“‘Tex Calder!’ says he.”

Silent started violently, and his hand moved instinctively to his six-gun.

“Did he say Tex Calder?”

“He said no less,” answered Shorty Rhinehart, and waited to see his news take effect.  Silent stood with head bowed, scowling.

“Tex Calder’s a fool,” he said at last.  “He ought to know better’n to take to my trail.”

“He’s fast with his gun,” suggested Shorty.

“Don’t I know that?” said Silent.  “If Alvarez, an’ Bradley, an’ Hunter, an’ God knows how many more could come up out of their graves, they’d tell jest how quick he is with a six-gun.  But I’m the one man on the range that’s faster.”

Shorty was eloquently mute.

“I ain’t askin’ you to take my word for it,” said Jim Silent.  “Now that he’s after me, I’m glad of it.  It had to come some day.  The mountains ain’t big enough for both of us to go rangin’ forever.  We had to lock horns some day.  An’ I say, God help Tex Calder!”

He turned abruptly to the rest of the men.

“Boys, I got somethin’ to tell you that Shorty jest heard.  Tex Calder is after us.”

There came a fluent outburst of cursing.

Silent went on:  “I know jest how slick Calder is.  I’m bettin’ on my draw to be jest the necessary half a hair quicker.  He may die shootin’.  I don’t lay no bets that I c’n nail him before he gets his iron out of its leather, but I say he’ll be shootin’ blind when he dies.  Is there any one takin’ that bet?”

His eyes challenged them one after another.  Their glances travelled past Silent as if they were telling over and over to themselves the stories of those many men to whom Tex Calder had played the part of Fate.  The leader turned back to Shorty Rhinehart.

“Now tell me what he had to say about the coin.”

“Hardy says the shipment’s delayed.  He don’t know how long.”

“How’d it come to be delayed?”

“He figures that Wells Fargo got a hunch that Silent was layin’ for the train that was to carry it.”

“Will he let us know when it does come through?”

“I asked him, an’ he jest hedged.  He’s quitting on us cold.”

“I was a fool to send you, Shorty.  I’m goin’ myself, an’ if Hardy don’t come through to me—­”

He broke off and announced to the rest of his gang that he intended to make the journey to Elkhead.  He told Haines, who in such cases usually acted as lieutenant, to take charge of the camp.  Then he saddled his roan.

In the very act of pulling up the cinch of his saddle, Silent stopped short, turned, and raised a hand for quiet.  The rest were instantly still.  Hal Purvis leaned his weazened face towards the ground.  In this manner it was sometimes possible to detect far-off sounds which to one erect would be inaudible.  In a moment, however, he straightened up, shaking his head.

“What is it?” whispered Haines.