Straight upon them the big grey man strode and halted in front of Nash.

He said, his voice harsh and broken by his running:  “I ordered you to bring him to me unharmed.  What does this mean, Nash?”

The cowpuncher answered sulkily:  “Glendin sent us out.”

“Don’t lie.  You sent yourself and took these men.  I’ve seen Glendin.”

His wrath was tempered with a sneer.

“But here you are four against one.  Go down and bring him out to me alive!”

There was no answer.

“You said you wanted no odds against any one man.”

“When a man and a woman stand together,” answered Nash, “they’re worse than a hundred.  That devil, Sally Fortune, is down there with him.”

A gun cracked from the house; the bullet chipped the rock with an evil clang, and the flake of stone whirled through the air and landed at the feet of Drew.

“There’s your answer,” said Nash.  “But we’ve got the rat cornered.”

“Wrong again.  Calamity Ben is going to live—­”

A cry of joy came from Shorty Kilrain.

“Duffy says that he gave his horse away to Bard.  Glendin has called back your posse.  Ride, Nash!  Or else go down there unarmed and bring Bard up to me.”

The shadow of a smile crossed the lips of Nash.

“If the law’s done with him, I’m not.  I won’t ride, and I won’t go down to him.  I’ve got the upper hand and I’m going to hold it.”

“If you’re afraid to go down, I will.”

Drew unbuckled his cartridge belt and tossed it with his gun against the rocks.  He drew out a white handkerchief, and holding it above him, at a full arm’s length, he stepped out from the shelter.  The others, gathering at their places of vantage, watched his progress toward the house.  Steve Nash described it to the wounded men, who had dragged themselves half erect.

“He’s walkin’ right toward the house, wavin’ the white rag.  They ain’t goin’ to shoot.  He’s goin’ around the side of the house.  He’s stopped there under the trees.”

“Where?”

“At that grave of his wife under the two trees.  He waits there like he expected Bard to come out to him.  And, by God, there goes Bard to meet him—­right out into the open.”

“Steady, Steve!  Drop that gun!  If you shoot now you’ll have Drew on your head afterward.”

“Don’t I know it?  But God, wouldn’t it be easy?  I got him square inside the sights.  Jest press the trigger and Anthony Bard is done for.  He walks up to Drew.  He’s got no gun on.  He’s empty-handed jest like Drew.  He’s said something short and quick and starts to step across the grave.

“Drew points down to it and makes an answer.  Bard steps back like he’d been hit across the face and stands there lookin’ at the mound.  What did Drew say?  I’d give ten years of life to hear that talk!

“Bard looks sort of stunned; he stands there with a hand shadin’ his eyes, but the sun ain’t that bright.  Well, I knew nobody could ever stand up to Drew.