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There was Terry Jordan forgetful of the wound in his arm; Shorty Rhinehart, his saturnine face longer and more calamitous than ever; Hal Purvis, grinning and nodding his head; Bill Kilduff with his heavy jaw set like a bull dog's; Lee Haines, with a lock of tawny hair blowing over his forehead, smiling faintly as he listened to Silent as if he heard a girl tell a story of love; and finally Jim Silent himself, huge, solemn, confident.
Then Silent cried out: "Then what was that whistlin' I've heard down the road behind us?" Bill Kilduff broke into rolling bass laughter, and Hal Purvis chimed in with a squeaking tenor. "We told you all along, Jim," said Purvis, as soon as he could control his voice, "that there wasn't any whistlin' behind us.
"It ain't no ways possible!" said Kilduff. "And yet by God, it is!" They rushed for the door and made out two figures approaching, one on horseback, and the other on foot. "Haines!" called Purvis, his shrill voice rising to a squeak with his excitement. "Here I am!" rang back the mellow tones of the big lone rider, and in a moment he and Jim Silent entered the room. Glad faces surrounded him.
Before any one could speak he poured in another volley between wind and water: "One slip of a girl can make fools out of five long riders? No, you ain't long riders. All you c'n handle is hobby hosses!" "What do you want us to do?" growled swarthy Bill Kilduff. "Keep your face shut while I'm talkin', that's what I want you to do!" There was a devil of rage in his eyes.
"It sure does," said Silent, "but the gal and her father are kind of slow this mornin'. The old man generally has a fire goin' before dawn is fairly come. There ain't no sign of smoke now." "Maybe he's sleepin' late after the excitement of yesterday," said Bill Kilduff. "You must of thrown some sensation into the family, Buck." The eyes of Haines had not moved from the face of Buck.
"Don't Morris's confession make no difference?" "Morris was lynched before he had a chance to swear to what he said in Dan's favour. Kilduff an' Jordan an' Rhinehart might testify that Dan wasn't never bought over by Silent, but they know they're done for themselves, an' they won't try to help anybody else, particular the man that put 'em in the hands of the law.
The voice of Jim Silent, strangely changed and sharpened from his usual bass roar, shrilled over the sudden tumult: "Each man for himself! It's Whistling Dan!" Terry Jordan and Bill Kilduff rushed at the dim figure, crouched to the floor. Their guns spat fire, but they merely lighted the way to their own destruction. Twice Dan's revolver spoke, and they dropped, yelling.
"Let him alone, Dan! I'll tell you why later. There's Jordan and Kilduff. That one by the door is Rhinehart." They ran from one to the other, greeted by groans and deep curses. "Who's that beneath the window?" "Too small for Silent. It's Purvis, and he's dead!" "Bart got him!" "No! It was fear that killed him. Look at his face!" "Bart, go out to Satan!" The wolf trotted from the room.
"The chief's right," growled Kilduff, staring down at the ground. "It's Whistlin' Dan or us. The mountains ain't big enough to hold him an' us!" Before Whistling Dan the great wolf glided among the trees.
We know you got powerful good hearin', Jim, but we all figger you been makin' somethin' out of nothin'. Am I right, boys?" "You sure are," said Kilduff, "I ain't heard a thing." Silent rolled his eyes angrily from face to face. "I'm kind of sorry the lad got his in the fire. I was hopin' maybe we'd meet agin. There's nothin' I'd rather do than be alone five minutes with Whistlin' Dan."
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