CHAPTER VI
DISCOMFITURE OF A GUNFIGHTER
Grace accompanied them to the door.
"Everybody'll know you're fighting about me," she whispered, twitteringwith excitement. "Everybody is sure to know the row is over me?"
"Yes. I'm afraid so," said Lafe, staring at her.
"Oh. All the girls will be wild."
There was not an instant's hesitation in Haverty's acceptance of themastership of ceremonies. He took Moffatt's two guns, examined themthoroughly and removed the cartridges. The weapons were exactly alike.Then he reloaded them and stationed the men.
"Both your hosses is ready saddled," he announced. "So one of you kinget over the Border."
"That suits me," said Steve.
They were stationed in opposite corners of the rear room in the Fashion,a table placed accurately half-way between. On the table were twosix-shooters, the butts outward. Johnson had the ball of one foot bracedagainst the wall.
"All ready?" Haverty said crisply. "One--two--three!"
Johnson gained the middle of the room at a bound, seizing his gun andoverturning the table with one movement. It crashed against Moffatt'schest and his hands failed to grasp the weapon. Lafe jammed the .45close to his ribs and pulled twice.
"Help, boys!" Moffatt shrieked, sinking to the floor. "Help! He'smurdering me!"
He threw an arm upward, as though to ward off the death he had meted outto others. Johnson remained over him, the smoking gun in his hand.
"Get up," he said. "Get up and run."
"I can't. You got me twice. I'm done for, I reckon."
"Pshaw!" said Haverty. "You ain't even hit. Just scorched, Moffatt. Themwas blank kattridges."
From the floor, the gunfighter gazed stupidly at the two. He aroseslowly and dusted himself.
Outside in the crowded bar, nobody ventured to gibe at him, for Moffattwas always a dangerous man, and most dangerous when beaten orhumiliated. He went quickly in search of his horse.
"You'd better go back to Grace," Johnson said, following to see himsafely out of town.
"Not me. I'm overdue at the ranch already. She's yours. I wish you joyof her, Lafe."
He rode out of town at a purposely slow dogtrot. Some time afterward hekilled a Mexican vaquero in a dispute over a bridle, and fled south.
Johnson was saddling next day, when Grace Hawes swept into the yard ofthe stable and confronted him.
"What's this I hear?" she shrilled. "What's the meaning of it, LafeJohnson? Where're you going?"
"I've got to go to the ranch to-day, Grace."
"You mean you're through with me, Lafe Johnson?"
"I wouldn't go to put it that way, Grace. Don't take on so."
"I will--I will! I don't care who hears. You're a villain--that's whatyou are. You promised last night--you said--"
"A man had ought to be sociable with ladies," said Lafe, busy with thecinch.
"You done run off a man who was worth two of you any day, Lafe Johnson.And then you go to leave me. You leave me here to be laughed at. You ...here, wait. Don't go, Lafe. Lafe, I didn't mean ... please, Lafe ... oh,please ..."
Johnson and Buffalo ambled side by side along a mesa covered withmesquite. Jim had promise of a job from Floyd and assured Johnson ofone, also. Both planned to eschew the frivolities of city lifehenceforth. Buffalo asked suddenly: "What made you draw off so suddenthat way, Lafe?"
Johnson grinned at him.
"It's right queer, Jim," he said. "But when she saw us off to go tofighting, some way I begun to think of my li'l' sister. You knew mysister Kitty, back in Texas, didn't you, Buf'lo? She's got yallowhair."
"I shore did," said Jim, in some confusion.
"Well, I sort of begun to wonder what I'd think of Kitty if she served aman like that. It was all off then. If Kitty tried a game like that,Buf'lo, I'd sure take to her right smart with a rope end."
"Me and you both," Jim said heartily.
They rode onward toward the Lazy L headquarters, one whistling, theother smiling over memories.
The Sheriff of Badger: A Tale of the Southwest Borderland Page 6