was one of those deceptive men whose muscles
are folded in broad, firm flakes like steel springs. A sense of danger
thrilled his blood, but he did not show it--he could not afford to show
it. Therefore he merely backed up against the wall of the building and
with clenched hands awaited their onset.

Something in his silence and self-control daunted his furious opponents.
They hesitated.

"If you weren't a government officer," blustered Abe, "I'd waller
ye--But I'll get ye! I'll put ye where that Dutchman and his--"

Hanscom's fist crashing like a hammer against the rancher's jaw closed
his teeth on the vile epithet which filled his mouth, and even as he
reeled, stunned by this blow, the ranger's left arm flashed in another
savage swing, and Abe, stunned by the swift attack, would have fallen
into the gutter had not one of his gang caught and supported him.

"Kill him! Kill the dog!" shouted one of the others, and in his voice
was the note of the murderer.

Eli Kitsong whipped out his revolver, but the hand of a friendly
bystander clutched the weapon. "None of that; the man is unarmed," he
said.

At this moment the door of the saloon opened and five or six men came
rushing, eager to see, quick to share in a fight. Believing them to be
enemies, Hanscom with instant rush struck the first man a heavy blow,
caught and wrenched his weapon from his fist, and so, armed and
desperate, faced the circle of inflamed and excited men.

"Hands up now!" he called.

"Don't shoot, Hans!" shouted the man who had been disarmed. "We're all
friends."

In the tense silence which followed, the sheriff, attracted by the
noise, emerged from the coroner's door with a shout and hurled himself
like an enormous ram into the crowd. Pushing men this way and that, he
reached the empty space before the ranger's feet.

"What's the meaning of all this?" he demanded, with panting intensity.
"Put up them guns." The crowd obeyed. "Now, what's it all about?" he
said, addressing Abe.

"He jumped me," complained Kitsong. "I want him arrested for that and
for taking Henry without a warrant."

"Where's _your_ warrant?" asked Throop.

Abe was confused. "I haven't any yet, but I'll get one."

Throop addressed the crowd, which was swiftly augmenting. "Clear out of
this, now! _Vamose_, every man of you, or I'll run you all in. Clear
out, I say!" The throng began to move away, for the gestures with which
he indicated his meaning were made sinisterly