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At last Lee spoke.
"Trevors," he said quietly, "maybe the law can't get you. But I can.
For reasons which both you and I understand you are going to clear out of this part of the country."
"Am I?" asked Trevors. The look of his eyes did not alter, the poise of his big body did not shift, his hands, both at his sides again, might have been carved in bronze.
Then suddenly he laughed and threw out his arms in a wide gesture and again dropped them, saying shortly:
"You're playing the game the way I thought you would. You've got a gun. I am unarmed--begin your shooting and be d.a.m.ned to you!"
He even stepped forward, his eyes fearlessly upon Lee's, and settled his big frame comfortably in a chair by the table.
"Go ahead," he concluded. "I'm ready."
"That's as it should be!" Lee's voice was vibrant. His hard eyes brightened. With a quick jerk he drew the revolver from his belt and dropped it to the floor at Carson's feet.
Carson, though he stooped for it quickly, did not shift his watchful eyes from Trevors. For Carson had known more fights in his life than he had years; he knew men, and looked to Trevor for just the sort of thing Trevors did.
As Lee stepped forward, Trevors s.n.a.t.c.hed open the drawer of the table at his side, quick as light, and whipped out the weapon which lay there.
"Go slow, Trevors!" came old Carson's dry voice. "I've got you covered already, two-gun style."
Trevors, even with his finger crooking to the trigger, paused and saw the two guns in Carson's brown hands trained unwaveringly upon him.
There was much deadly determination in Carson's eyes. Again Trevors laughed, drawing back his empty hand.
"You yellow dog!" grunted Bud Lee, his tone one of supreme disgust.
"You d.a.m.ned yellow dog!"
Trevors shrugged.
"You see, gentlemen--two to one, with the odds all theirs."
"You lie!" spat out Carson. "It's one to one an' I see the game goes square." He stepped forward, removed the weapon from the table under Trevors's now suddenly changeful eyes, and went back to his place with his back to the wall.
"For G.o.d's sake!" cried the one nervous man in the room, he who had opened the door. "This is murder!"
Melvin smiled, a smile as cheerless as the gleam of wintry starlight on a bit of gla.s.s.
"Will you fight him, Trevors?" he asked. "With your hands?"
"Yes," answered Trevors. "Yes."
"Move back the table," commanded Melvin, on his feet in an instant.
"And the chairs. Get them back."
The table was dragged to the far end of the room; the chairs were piled upon it.
"Now," and Melvin's watch was in his hand, his voice coming with metallic coldness, "it's to a finish, is it? Three-minute rounds, fair fighting, no----"
But now at last Bayne Trevors's blood was up, his slow anger had kindled, he was moving his feet restlessly.
"d.a.m.n it," he shouted, "whose fight is this but mine and Lee's? If he wants a fight, let him come and get it; a man's fight and rules and rounds and time be d.a.m.ned! Am I to dance around here and sidestep and fence just for you to look on? . . . Carson!"
"Well?" said Carson.
"Lee challenges me, doesn't he? Then I'm the man to name the sort of fight, am I not? Is that fair?"
"Meaning just what?" asked Carson.
"Meaning that I am going to get him, get him any way I can! You let us fight this out our way, any way, and no interference!"
"Talk to Bud there," rejoined the old cattleman calmly. "It ain't my sc.r.a.p."
"Then, Lee," snapped Trevors, "come on if you want such a fight as you'd get if you and I were alone in the mountains, with no man to watch, a fight where a man can use what weapons G.o.d gave him, any weapon he can lay his mind to, his eye to, his hand to! Or," and at last the sneer came, "do you want a pair of padded gloves and somebody to fan you?"
Carson shifted his glance to Bud Lee's face. Lee merely nodded.
"Then," cried Carson sternly, "go to it! No man steps in, an' you two can fight it out like coyotes or mountain-lions for all of me."
"Your word there will be no interference?" asked Trevors. "For you're just a fool and not a liar, Carson."
"My word," was the answer.
x.x.x
THE FIGHT
Bayne Trevors slipped out of his coat and vest, tossing them to the pile of chairs on the table. He loosened his soft shirt-collar and was ready. All of Bud Lee's simple preparations had been made when he threw his broad hat aside.
Then came the little pause which is forerunner to the first blow, when two men measure each other, seeking each to read the other's purpose.
"It ought to be a pretty even break," muttered Melvin, his interest obviously that of a sporting man who would travel a thousand miles to see a fight for a champion's belt. "Trevors has the weight by forty pounds; Lee has the reach by a hair; both quick-footed; both hard; Lee, maybe a little harder. Don't know. Even break. The sand will do it--sand or luck."
The two men drew slowly together. Their hands came up, their fists showed glistening knuckles, their jaws were set, their feet moved cautiously. Then suddenly Bud Lee sprang in and struck.
Struck tentatively with his left hand that grazed Trevors's cheek and did no harm; struck terribly with his right hand that drove through the other man's guard and landed with the little sound of flesh on flesh on Trevors's chest. Trevors's grunt and his return blow came together; both men reeled back a half-pace from the impact, both hung an instant upon an unsteady balance, both sprang forward. And as they met the second time, they battled furiously, clinging together, striking mercilessly, giving and taking with only the sound of scuffing boot-heels and soft thuds and little coughing grunts breaking the silence. Bayne Trevors gave back a stubborn step, striking right and left as he did so; caught himself, hurled himself forward so that now it was Bud Lee who was borne backward by the sheer weight of his opponent. There was a gash on Lee's temple from which a thin stream of blood trickled; Trevors's mouth was bleeding.
"Under his guard, Trevors!" shouted Melvin, on the table now, his face red, his eyes shining. "Under, under!"
"Remember, Bud! Remember!" cried Carson.
"That's it, that's it!" Melvin clapped his two big hands and came perilously near falling from his point of vantage as Trevors's fists drove into Lee's body and Lee went reeling back. "Give him h.e.l.l! A hundred dollars on Trevors!"
"Take you!" called Carson without withdrawing his eyes from the two forms reeling up and down, back and forth across the room.
"Done!" cried Melvin. "Trevors, a hundred dollars----"