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Flatray was quite right in his surmise, since Melissy Lee, who had come out to see the posse off, was standing at the end of the porch with her dusky eyes fastened on him, the while he stood beside the house with one foot resting negligently on the oilcloth cover of the wash-stand.
Yet Flatray answered easily, without any perceptible hesitation: "I reckon I'll play my hand and let Bucky play his." "Suits me if it does you. Jeff, collect that hardware. Now, while you boys beat up the hills for O'Connor, I'll trail back to camp with these two all-night picnickers." Melissy saw the two prisoners brought in, though she could not tell at that distance who they were.
But there was something deeper than generosity. Her banked love for Flatray flooded her in a great cry of protest against his death. She loved him. She loved him. Much as she detested this man, revolting as she found the thought of being linked to him, the impulse to sacrifice herself was the stronger feeling of the two.
They were already riding into the open. In front of one of the log cabins the man who had called himself Flatray swung from his saddle. "Better 'light, lieutenant," he suggested carelessly. "We'll eat breakfast here." "Don't care if we do. I could eat a leather mail sack, I'm that hungry," the ranger answered, as he, too, descended.
"Suppose we step around to the side of the house. We'll be freer from interruption there." He led the way, taking her consent for granted. With him he carried a chair for her from the porch. "If you'll be as brief as possible, Mr. Flatray. I've been in the desert two days and want to change my clothes." "I'll not detain you. It's about this gold robbery." "Yes."
Why did he jump for the sandhills soon as the word came to arrest him?" He snapped together his straight, thin-lipped mouth, much as a trap closes on its prey. A heavy weight hurtled against the door and shook it to the hinges. Melissy had been edging to the right. Now with a twist of her lissom body she had slipped past the furious man and turned the key. Jack Flatray came into the room.
"No, I don't see it," Flatray answered hotly. "I can take what's coming to me, can't I? But if you save my life that way you make me as low a thing as he is. I say I'll not have it." Melissy could stand it no longer. She began to sob. "I I Oh, Jack, I've got to do it. Don't you see? Don't you see? It won't make any difference with me if I don't. No difference except that you'll be dead."
Two or three young men hovered about her; notable among them was a young fellow of not many words, good-humored, strong, with a look of power about him which the railroad king appreciated. Jack Flatray they called him. He was the newly-elected sheriff of the county. The great man watched the girl without appearing to do so.
Then, impulsively, "No, you don't, but you may be for all that." "I'm not asking anything for myself. You may do as you please after I've gone. Send for Mr. Flatray and tell him if you like." A horse cantered across the plaza toward the store. Bellamy turned quickly to go. "I'm not going to tell anyone," the girl called after him in a low voice. Norris swung from the saddle.
I reckon Melissy has introduced you to her friends. No? Make you acquainted with Mr. Flatray. Shake hands with Mr. Norris, Miss Yarnell. Where are you, Norris?" The owner of the Bar Double G swung round, to discover for the first time that harmony was not present. Boone stood back with a sullen vindictive expression on his face.
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