They stared at her, all of them puzzled by her change of attitude as by her words.  Then Brodie, with a noisy explosion of laughter, smote his thigh and, after him, Benny giggled foolishly.

“The better man!” Brodie shouted.  “Hear her, Steve, old horse?  The better man!” He lunged to his feet; he stood solidly, unswerving though more than ever slow and ponderous.  “I’ll go you, Steve.  The lady’s right; she goes to the man who’s man enough to get her.  That’s big Swen Brodie, the best man in these mountains!  I’ll go you for her, Steve.  By God, she’s worth it, too.”

But Steve Jarrold sat where he was, glaring.

“She’s sly,” he grunted, cursing before and after.  “Can’t you see what she’s up to?  She wants us to fight one another; she’d be glad if we both killed one another.  You don’t understand women, Brodie; they’re sly like cats.”

“Make a auction out’n it!” was Benny’s mirthful suggestion.  “Why just you two guys, anyway?  Where do you get that stuff?  Free for all, that’s what I say!” He waved his bottle.  “Auction her off, that’s what I say!  I’ll give a bottle of whiskey for her; hey, Brodie?”

Brodie had laughed when Jarrold spoke; he laughed now.  But he looked to Jarrold and not Benny as he spoke; he extended his great hands, the fingers crooked, curving slowly inward, like steel hooks.

“I can eat you alive, and you know it, Steve,” he mocked.  “What’s more, she knows it!  That’s what she wants; she’s picked me, Steve!  That’s just her way of letting you down easy; she don’t aim to hurt your feelings.  Will you come on and take a fall for her?  Or is the lady mine?  What’s the word?  Speak up, man!”

Gloria saw that Jarrold, though he sent a black, scowling look at the bigger man, was afraid.  And yet they must fight—­they must be driven to blows—­she must somehow set them at each others’ throats.  It was so hard to think at all!  Yet she could think forward to one occurrence only that could give her respite and a frail chance for freedom:  if they would only fight as, in some dim instinctive way, it was given her to understand that such men would fight once a wrathful blow had been given and taken—­if the others would only watch them and not her, if she could come to one of the rifles—­or outside——­

She turned to Jarrold.  She gathered herself for the final supreme effort.  She made her eyes grow bright through sheer force of will; she made her lips cease trembling and curve to a smile at the man; she even concealed her loathing and put a ringing note, almost of laughter, into her voice as she said softly: 

“I know you are not afraid—­and I think—­yes, I am sure, that you could whip him!”

Steve Jarrold’s eyes flashed.  Then they left hers lingeringly; Brodie was stamping impatiently, calling to him.

“Take her!” snapped Jarrold.  “Hell take both of you.”

The laughter and challenge went out of Swen Brodie’s bloodshot eyes; a new red surged all of a sudden into them.  He turned and came slowly about the fire, his arms still uplifted, the crooking fingers toward Gloria.