In her wildest dreams she had never visioned Buck Daniels transformed like this.  She knew that in his past, as one of those long-riders who roam the mountain-desert, their hand against the hands of every man, Buck Daniels had been known and feared by the strongest.  But all she had seen of Buck Daniels had been gentleness itself.  Yet what faced her as the door flew wide was a nightmare thing with haggard face and shadow-buried, glittering eyes—­unshaven, unkempt of hair, his shirt open at the throat, his great hands clenched for the battle.  The wolf-dog, at that familiar sight, whined a low greeting, but with a glance at his master knew that there was a change—­the old alliance was broken—­so he bared his white teeth and changed his whine to a snarl of hate.

Then a strange terror struck Kate Cumberland.  She had never dreamed that she could fear for Dan Barry at the hands of any man, but now the desperate resolve which breathed from every line of Buck Daniels, chilled her blood at the heart.  She sprang back before Dan Barry.  Facing him, she saw that demoniac glitter of yellow rising momently brighter in his eyes, and he was smiling.  No execration or loud voiced curse could have contained the distilled malignancy of that smile.  All this she caught in a single glimpse.  The next instant she had whirled and stood before Dan, shielding him with outspread arms and facing Buck Daniels.  The latter thrust back into the holster the gun which he had drawn when he entered the room.

“Stand away from him, Kate,” he commanded, and his eyes went past her to dwell on the face of Barry.  “Stand away from him.  It’s been comin’ for a long time, and now it’s here.  Barry I’m takin’ no start on you.  Stand away from the girl and pull your gun—­and I’ll pump you full of lead.”

The softest of soft voices murmured behind her:  “I been waitin’ for you, Buck, days and days and days.  I ain’t never been so glad to see anybody!”

And she felt Barry slip shadowlike to one side.  She sprang in front of him again with a wild cry.

“Buck!” she begged, “don’t shoot!”

Laughter, ringing and unhuman, filled the throat of Buck Daniels.

“Is it him you’re beggin’ for?” he sneered at her.  “Is it him you got your fears for?  Ain’t you got a word of pity for poor Buck Daniels that sneaked off like a whipped puppy?  Bah!  Dan Barry, the time is come.  I been leadin’ the life of a houn’ dog for your sake.  But it’s ended.  Pull your gun and get out from behind the skirts of that girl!”

As long as they faced each other with the challenge in their eyes, nothing on earth could avert the fight, she knew, but if she could delay them for one moment—­she felt that swift moving form behind her slipping away from behind her—­she could follow Barry’s movements by the light in Daniels’ eyes.

“Buck!” she cried, “for God’s sake—­for my sake turn away from him—­and—­roll another cigarette!”