“Somebody untie my hands,” called out Randolph, cutting and grim. “I’ll show you what kind of a joke it was.”

  Mohave was the cowboy who complied with the request, and it was plain he was nervous. He whispered something to Randolph. But it did not prevent Randolph, the instant he was free, from making long strides to confront Ray.

  “You’re a skunk,” said Randolph, deliberately. “I always had you figured as a bully and a conceited ass of a cowboy — mushy over every girl who ever came out here. But not till today did I know you to be a dirty foul- mouthed rat. You—”

  “Hold on, Randolph,” interrupted Endicott, aghast. “I told you I was to blame. Ray was only following my instructions.”

  “Randolph, we’ll shore make allowance for your feelin’s,” added Bennet, conciliatingly. “But you’re usin’ strong language — too strong for a little joke.”

  “Joke, hell!” flashed Randolph. “This locoed cowboy meant to hang me!”

  “Good God! Why, boy, you’re quite out of your head,” expostulated Endicott.

  Bennet began to see something serious in the situation. And he took his hint more from Ray’s face than Randolph’s words. Slipping out of his saddle he strode quickly to get between the men. Randolph gave him a shove that almost upset him.

  “Don’t you butt in. You’re a little late to save me the rottenest deal any man ever got. And you’re a lot too late to save this cowpuncher of yours from the damndest kind of a beating.”

  “Man! Look out for thet gun!” warned Bennet, shrilly.

  “I don’t care a damn for his gun,” replied Randolph. “He wouldn’t shoot a rabbit.”

  “Wal, I’d shoot a coyote damn quick or a gurl-chasin’ scientist,” replied Ray, laughing coarsely.

  “Drop thet gun!” ordered Bennet. “Can’t you see Randolph is unarmed?”

  “I’m takin’ no more orders from you,” said the cowboy, sullenly.

  “You bet your life you’re not,” shouted the trader, angrily. “But you throw thet gun on Randolph an’ you’ll have me to deal with.”

  Suddenly Randolph, in a pantherish spring, leaped upon Ray, and caught his arm just as he was lifting it with the gun. Randolph threw all his weight upon that gun arm, forced it down. Ray struggled and cursing yelled: “Leggo, er I’ll plug you!”

  Randolph bent swiftly to fasten his teeth in the dangerous hand. The cowboy let out a howl of pain and fury. Bang! Bang! Janey screamed and hid her eyes in horror. She heard the thud of feet and wrestling of bodies, then hoarse calls from the onlookers. Her heart seemed to burst. This awful farce was going to end in a tragedy. Randolph! Terror forced her to open her eyes. Ray had dropped the gun. The hand Randolph gripped was red with blood. On the instant Randolph gave the gun a kick. It flew to the feet of Mohave, who bent and snatched it up. Then Randolph, releasing Ray, struck him full in the face, with a blow that sounded like a mallet. Ray went down with a sodden thump.

  Nobody wasted any more words. The spectators were too intense for speech, and the contestants too mad with rage. Randolph seemed a man who once in his life had let go. Ray, as he bounded up like a cat, looked a demon.

  He rushed at Randolph and the fight began. Janey could not watch it, though now she had fascination added to her horror. But there was enough gentleness left in her to make her shrink instinctively. She stood there with hands pressed over her eyes. Thus blinded she could still hear. And the smash of fists, the scrape of boots, wrestling tussles of hard bodies in contact, the pants and whistles of furious breathing — these were worse to hear than to see. How must the battle go? Randolph, the gentleman, the mild-mannered archaeologist, would surely be worsted by a younger man and one inured to all the roughness of the desert. Crash! One of the fighters had been knocked into the cedar brush. He burst up again, bawling awful curses. Ray! What a hot tingling thrill Janey experienced! It seemed to change her very nature. She wanted more than anything ever before in her life for Randolph to beat down the vile-mouthed cowboy. She had known the cause of Randolph’s white anger. It was because of Ray’s bald insinuations. Randolph was fighting for her, to whip the cur before those onlookers who had heard. So it was impossible for Janey to keep her eyes covered any longer.

  She found she stood alone. The fighters had worked away up the bench. Even the Durlands had followed the men. Janey ran. She saw Phil first, face turned toward her. He was all bloody and dirty. Then Ray’s face swept round into sight. He was horribly battered, his face resembling a bloody beefsteak. He lunged wildly. He had no science. Randolph was agile, swift, and when he struck out he landed. Ray plunged down at Randolph’s legs, caught them, and dragged him down. They clinched furiously, and rolled over and over, now one on top, then the other. Ray kicked viciously. It was clear that he was trying to dig his spurs into Randolph’s legs. The cowboys yelled their derision of this further evidence of Ray’s cowardly tactics. He must have imagined that a rough- and-tumble fight would give him the advantage. But it soon became clear that he was as badly off as in a fair stand-up fight. Randolph was out to give the cowboy a terrific beating, and it looked as if it would end that way.

  Once, when in their rolling over Ray landed on top, he snatched up a dead branch, quite weighty, and brought it down hard upon Randolph’s head, where it cracked into many bits.

  “You dirty dog!” yelled Mohave, who was now plainly Randolph’s champion. “If you knock him out that way you’ll have me on you.”

  But if Ray heard he paid no heed. He snatched up a rock and swung that.

  “Drop it or I’ll shoot your arm off,” shouted Bennet, whipping out a gun.

  The maddened cowboy tried to smash Randolph’s head. Missed him! Bennet meant to shoot, but obviously feared he would either kill Ray or hit Randolph. Then he grasped his gun by the barrel, meaning to hit Ray with it. The cowboy struck again with the rock. Randolph dodged, but was slightly hit.

  “For God’s sake, Bennet, stop him! He means murder,” called Endicott, frightened.

  “Oh, Phil — don’t let him kill you!” screamed Janey, wildly.

  Mohave leaped close to do something, no one could guess what. Mrs. Durland collapsed in a faint. Randolph might not have been doing his utmost before, because his fury and strength became marvelous. With one powerful blow he knocked the stone flying out of Ray’s hand. Another broke Ray’s hold on his throat. Then he heaved mightily. He tossed Ray clear of him, and was on his feet as quickly as the cowboy. He rushed Ray. A blow stopped the cowboy. The next staggered him. Randolph swung his left biff Then his right — smash! Ray, who was falling at the first blow, shot down with the second as if it had been from a catapult. He fell headlong, and slid over the brink of the bench, to crash into the brush below.

  Randolph glared a moment at the puff of dust which the cowboy had raised, then striding to his pack he picked up his towel and went off down the slope toward the creek.

  Janey was so tottering and weak that she sat down on a rock. Bennet sheathed his gun.

  “Wal, that was good,” he declared, in great relief. “I hope he broke his neck. Some of you boys go down and see... Endicott, Mrs. Durland has fainted. No wonder. Thet came near bein’ a real scrap. Young man, fetch some water, an’ we’ll bring your mother to.”

  Janey sat dizzily conscious of the subsiding of the terrible emotions that had swayed her. Very slowly she recovered. Mrs. Durland was revived and lifted to a seat. Bennet appeared very kindly and solicitous. Janey’s father wore a haggard look of remorse displacing fear. Bert, who hovered over his mother, showed the pallor of a girl, and hands that shook. Mohave was the only cowboy left on the bench.

  “What in the hell happened?” questioned Bennet, sternly.

  “Boss, I swear it was as much of a surprise to us as to you,” began Mohave, most earnestly. “The boys will back me up in that... You know Mr. Endicott was awful keen on makin’ this fake hangin’ look like the real thing. We had our orders to do some tall actin’ — like them motion-picture fellars. You can bet we had a lot of fun plannin’ this. Talkin’ it over! We must look terrible mad, as if we meant bizness. Wal, Ray acted so powerful good thet we all was plumb jealous. Even when he began to say nasty things we thought he was only oversteppin’ a little. When he insulted Miss Janey then I was flabbergasted. Same with the other boys. Once I opened my trap, but Ray shet me up pronto. Still it was all so sudden I jest couldn’t see through Ray until he called Miss Janey a white-faced slut.”

  “Ahuh! Aboot time you seen through him, I’ll say. Wal?” grumbled the trader.

  “Then it all come in a flash,” went on Mohave, breathing hard. “We was obeyin’ orders — havin’ an awful big kick out of it. But Ray wasn’t actin’. He meant to hang Randolph. No doubt of thet, sir. He had it all figgered out an’ knowed the facts would clear him in any court.”

  “But the damn locoed idget!” burst out Bennet. “To hang Randolph in earnest! What on earth for?”

  “Wal, I ain’t shore. But I believe Ray thought Miss Janey was his gurl,” replied Mohave, manfully, though it was evident he hated to be frank. “He shore talked like it. An’ when he seen — wal, that he was what you called him, boss, why he went plumb out of his haid with jealousy.”

  “Ahuh! Wal, I’m damned!” ejaculated Bennet.

  Mr. Endicott had listened to all this conversation and now he turned to his daughter.

  “Janey, you let that cowboy make love to you,” he said. He did not ask; he affirmed.

  “Dad, I did,” replied Janey, bravely. It was confession that was accusation. “To my regret and shame — I did. I let him kiss me — talk a lot of nonsense.”

  “Well, that’s no crime,” he said, gravely. “But in this case it nearly led to murder. I hope it will be a lesson to you.”

  Janey dropped her face into her hands and hid it. Lesson! What lesson had she not had? She would be days accounting for them and their clarifying and transforming power. Now there was only one man in all the world whom she would allow to kiss her. And would he want to again?

  Zoroaster and the other cowboys came back from below.

  “Ray’s not crippled, sir,” reported Zoroaster. “Bad bunged up, but nothin’ serious.”

  “Able to ride?” asked Bennet, tersely.

  “Reckon so, if someone shows him where to go. Both eyes are swelled shet.”

  “Wal, let’s see. The Indians can look after us. You boys take him back to the post. Tell Mrs. Bennet to pay him off an’ let him go. Clear out now... An’ say, boys, if you want to stay with me, keep mum aboot this deal. Not one little word! Savvy?”

  They promised soberly, and picking up their guns, they led their horses down through the cedars out of sight.

  “Reckon we might as well stay heah fer a day or two, hadn’t we?” inquired Bennet of Endicott. “The Indians will look after our horses, an’ pack firewood. I can cook.”

  “Surely. I want to see this Beckyshibeta. Besides—” replied Endicott, who, happening to glance at Janey, did not complete what had been on his mind to say. Then seeing Randolph returning he advanced to meet him. He certainly got a cold shoulder from that individual. Standing blankly a moment he threw up his hands, then stalked off tragically. Janey had noticed this little by-play. So had Bennet, who was not above chuckling. This and Randolph’s reception of her father did much to spur Janey to some semblance of sanity.

  “Wal, lass, it was an awful mess, wasn’t it?” said the trader, sympathetically, as he seated himself beside Janey.

  “Mess is the word, Mr. Bennet,” replied Janey, finding her voice somewhat strained.

  “Your father had good intentions,” went on Bennet. “But jumpin’ horn toads! What a damn fool idee! He never told me till it was all done, an’ the cowboys on your trail. Shore I could have held them back, or come along. I thought somethin’ was kinda queer. Sort of in the air. But, Lord, how could I guess it?”

  “Don’t apologize, and please don’t be sorry for me,” murmured Janey.

  “Aw now—”

  “What this — this mess has done to me I don’t realize yet,” interrupted Janey. “But today has been terrible... When I — I get my nerve back, I’ll be all right... I don’t blame Dad. He meant well. He wanted to give me a — a real scare. I’ll say he succeeded beyond his wildest hopes... Still, it was my fault, Mr. Bennet. I can’t crawl out. I must have driven poor Dad crazy. And that miserable cowboy Ray! I don’t know what to say. I — I wanted Phil to kill him. Think of that!”

  “Wal, I’d have shot Ray myself if I hadn’t been leary of hittin’ Randolph,” said Bennet. “Don’t you waste too much pity on Ray. He’s plain no good. I know a lot of things aboot Ray. He was a good man with hosses an’ cattle. An’ not a hard drinker. I’ve gotta say thet fer him. But Ray always was loony aboot girls. He wouldn’t up an’ marry one. No sir-ee! He always said he didn’t want to be hawg-tied... Wal, I reckon he had a genuine case on you.”

  “As far as Ray is concerned — and that terrible fight — I am solely to blame,” confessed Janey, almost choking. “It makes me deathly sick. Mr. Bennet, I — I made a fool of—”

  “Never mind, lass,” interposed the trader, putting a rough kind hand on hers. “I heard what you said to your Dad. You’re game, as we say in the West, an’ takin’ your medicine. You jest didn’t savvy cowboys, much less a dangerous hombre like Ray. We’re lucky it didn’t turn out bad... Randolph shore was chain-lightnin’ when he rode up, wasn’t he? Wal, I reckon, after all, the most dangerous men are the quiet ones. I’ll never get over the surprise he gave me, though... Now, you pull yourself together. Reckon I’d better look up your Dad.”

  With that Bennet arose, and giving the Indians some instructions, he strode off in the direction Endicott had taken. Janey felt that she had pulled herself together, in a sense, though she was far too wise to trust herself yet. Still, she had to go about facing things, and she chose the hardest first. She went up to Randolph. He had changed his stained, torn shirt for a clean one, and washed the blood from his cut and bruised face. And he did not appear such an ugly sight as she had anticipated.

  “Phil, it was — fine — wonderful for you to fight that way for me. You — I — I can’t find words.”

  “What I did is nothing compared to the way you stood up before them and lied for me,” he said, with deep feeling.

  Janey had forgotten about that. All in a second she felt unaccountably tender and realized she was on most treacherous ground. She had not lied, and she longed to tell him so.

  “Don’t look so distressed,” he went on. “They all know you lied to save me and they’ll think more of you for it.”

  “I don’t care what they think,” returned Janey. “I’m pretty much upset. I just wanted to tell you how I felt — about your fighting for me... and to ask you — please not to quarrel with Dad.”

  “Sorry I can’t promise. It’s certainly coming to that gentleman,” said Randolph, grimly.

  Janey was not equal to any more just then; and when she slowly ascended the little rock slope to her retreat she realized how unstrung she was. Once there she lay down on her bed and did not care what happened. She did not quite sleep, but she rested for a couple of hours. Still she did not feel up to the exigencies of this hectic situation. Curiosity, however, was an entering wedge into the chaos of her mind. She sat up and tried to make herself more presentable — thinking, with a wan smile as she saw the havoc in her face, that this was a favorable sign of returning reason.

  The Indians appeared to be busy around the campfire, cleaning the mess left by Black Dick and his partner. Never would she forget them! And pretty soon she would find herself in the unique and embarrassing state of inquiring into their wholesome effect upon her. The Durlands were fixing up some kind of a shelter in the cedars, and evidently were quite interested. Janey reflected that an adjustment to their material loss might make considerable difference in their reaction. Randolph and Bennet were nowhere to be seen. But presently Janey saw her father. He had been so near, under the wall in the shade, that she had overlooked him. Hatless, coatless, vestless, collar open at the neck, dejected, he certainly presented a most unusual counterpart of himself. For an instant Janey had a wild start. What if Randolph had chastised him too! But no, that was improbable. Nevertheless something had happened to Mr. Endicott, and seeing him this way revived Janey’s spirit. Could she carry on? She would die in the attempt! These two detractors had not been punished enough to satisfy her. Especially Randolph! So after thinking it over for a little longer Janey went down to her father.

  “Well, Dad, you appear to be having a most enjoyable time,” she said.

  “Ah! — Hello, Janey. Yes, I’m having a grand time. Ha! Ha!” he replied.

  It was worse than Janey had imagined. She began to soften a little, though she never would let it show.

  “How do you like Beckyshibeta?” she asked.

  “Becky-hell and blazes!”

  “What’s happened, Dad?” she went on, quietly.

  “Nothing. I’ve had the most uncomfortable hour of my life,” he rejoined, miserably. She saw that unburdening himself would be well, so she encouraged him.

  “I didn’t know that man Randolph at all,” he exploded.

  “Neither did I,” replied Janey, musingly.

  “Janey, that confounded Westerner came up to me with fire in his eye. And he said: ‘Damn you, Endicott. I ought to punch you good!’ I thought he was going to do it, too. So I made some feeble reply about how sorry I was to place him in such a fix. ‘Fix? Hell!’ he yelled at me. ‘I’m not thinking of myself. It’s the fix you’ve got her in. It’s not I who’ll have ruined her reputation. It’s you! You made a damn fool of me. But you’ve hurt her. Those Durlands will be nasty. Your own daughter! You made me believe she was wild — going straight to hell!’ I yelled back at him that you were. Then he shut me up all right. He shook that big fist under my very nose. He called me a blankety-blank liar!... Then he swore at me. He cussed me. Such profanity I never heard. He must have collected it from every cowboy in the West. He never stopped until he was out of breath. Then he went off somewhere with Bennet.”