ut Dorn. His voice had a terrible ring of furious
amaze. His whole body seemed to gather as in a knot and then to spring.
The man called Glidden went down before that onslaught, and his gun went
flying aside.

Three of Glidden's group started for it. The cowboy Bill leaped forward,
a gun in each hand. "Hyar!... Back!" he yelled. And then all except the
two struggling principals grew rigid.

Lenore's heart was burning in her throat. The movements of Dorn were too
swift for her sight. But Glidden she saw handled as if by a giant. Up
and down he seemed thrown, with bloody face, flinging arms, while he
uttered hoarse bawls. Dorn's form grew more distinct. It plunged and
swung in frenzied energy. Lenore heard men running and yells from all
around. Her father spread wide his arm before her, so that she had to
bend low to see. He shouted a warning. Jake was holding a gun thrust
forward.

"Boss, he's goin' to kill Glidden!" said the cowboy, in a low tone.

Anderson's reply was incoherent, but its meaning was plain.

Lenore's lips and tongue almost denied her utterance. "Oh!... Don't let
him!"

The crowd behind the wrestling couple swayed back and forth, and men
changed places here and there. Bill strode across the space, guns
leveled. Evidently this action was due to the threatening movements of
several workmen who crouched as if to leap on Dorn as he whirled in his
fight with Glidden.

"Wal, it's about time!" yelled Anderson, as a number of lean, rangy men,
rushing from behind, reached Bill's side, there to present an armed and
threatening front.

All eyes now centered on Dorn and Glidden. Lenore, seeing clearly for
the first time, suffered a strange, hot paroxysm of emotion never before
experienced by her. It left her weak. It seemed to stultify the cry that
had been trying to escape her. She wanted to scream that Dorn must not
kill the man. Yet there was a ferocity in her that froze the cry.
Glidden's coat and blouse were half torn off; blood covered him; he
strained and flung himself weakly in that iron clutch. He was beaten and
bent back. His tongue hung out, bloody, fluttering with strangled cries.
A ghastly face, appalling in its fear of death!

Lenore broke her mute spell of mingled horror and passion.

"For God's sake, don't let Dorn kill him!" she implored.

"Why not?" muttered Anderson. "That's Glidden. He killed Dorn's
father--burned his wheat--ruined him!"

"Dad--for _my_--sake!" she cried brokenly.