Wright, finding his voice, cursed Diane, cursed the Ranger, then Sampson, then me.

“You damned, selfish fool!” cried Sampson, in deep, bitter scorn.  “All you think of is yourself.  Your loss of the girl!  Think once of me—­my home—­my life!”

Then the connection subtly put out by Sampson apparently dawned upon the other.  Somehow, through this girl, her father and cousin were to be betrayed.  I got that impression, though I could not tell how true it was.  Certainly, Wright’s jealousy was his paramount emotion.

Sampson thrust me sidewise off the porch.  “Go away,” he ordered.  He did not look around to see if I came back.  Quickly I leaped to my former position.  He confronted Wright.  He was beyond the table where the gun lay.  They were close together.  My moment had come.  The game was mine—­and a ball of fire burst in my brain to race all over me.

“To hell with you!” burst out Wright incoherently.  He was frenzied.  “I’ll have her or nobody else will!”

“You never will,” returned Sampson stridently.  “So help me God, I’d rather see her Ranger Steele’s wife than yours!”

While Wright absorbed that shock Sampson leaned toward him, all of hate and menace in his mien.  They had forgotten the half-drunken cowboy.  “Wright, you made me what I am,” continued Sampson.  “I backed you, protected you, finally I went in with you.  Now it’s ended.  I quit you.  I’m done!” Their gray, passion-corded faces were still as stones.

“Gentlemen,” I called in clear, high, far-reaching voice, the intonation of authority, “you’re both done!”

They wheeled to confront me, to see my leveled gun.  “Don’t move!  Not a muscle!  Not a finger!” I warned.  Sampson read what Wright had not the mind to read.  His face turned paler gray, to ashen.

“What d’ye mean?” yelled Wright fiercely, shrilly.  It was not in him to obey my command, to see impending death.  All quivering and strung, yet with perfect control, I raised my left hand to turn back a lapel of my open vest.  The silver shield flashed brightly.

“United States deputy marshal in service of Ranger Steele!”

Wright howled like a dog.  With barbarous and insane fury, with sheer, impotent folly, he swept a clawing hand for his gun.  My shot broke his action as it cut short his life.  Before Wright even tottered, before he loosed the gun, Sampson leaped behind him, clasped him with his left arm, quick as lightning jerked the gun from both clutching fingers and sheath.  I shot at Sampson, then again, then a third time.  All my bullets sped into the upheld nodding Wright.  Sampson had protected himself with the body of the dead man.  I had seen red flashes, puffs of smoke, had heard quick reports.  Something stung my left arm.  Then a blow like wind, light of sound yet shocking in impact, struck me, knocked me flat.  The hot rend of lead followed the blow.  My heart seemed to explode, yet my mind kept extraordinarily clear and rapid.