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Dane forced himself to look away from the swaying cat-dog, to watch instead the singers who were now furtively eying their lord and his guest. The Terran knew that there were feudal bonds between the Ranger and his men. But suppose this was a showdown between Lumbrilo and Asaki whose side would these men take?

I told Henry that it's a showdown and that he's to get ready and start right away." "Well, Spugg," said one of the members "you're certainly setting us a fine example." "What else can a man do?" said Mr. Spugg. "When does your chauffeur leave?" asked another man. "Right away. I want him in the firing line just as quick as I can get him there."

It's rather like the bluff the Soviets ran on the rest of the world for a couple of decades back in the war era, just because they sprawled across half the globe. They were a giant, though it was mostly frozen desert. When the showdown came they didn't have it. They were a pushover. "All right, the next question is why did I choose H. E. instead of going in with everything I had? That's easy, too.

"When Cunningham worked that crooked irrigation scheme of his on Dry Valley, I reckon I was one of them that hollered the loudest. Prob'ly I talked foolish about what all I was gonna do about it. I wasn't blowin' off hot air either. If I'd got a good chance at him, or at Hull either, I would surely have called for a showdown an' gunned him if I could. But that wasn't what I came to Denver for.

The Spider's preparations for leaving Showdown were simple enough. He had his Mexican bale and cord the choicest of the rugs and blankets, the silver-studded saddle and bridle, the Bayeta cloth rare and priceless and the finest of his Indian beadwork. Each bale was tagged, and on each tag was written the name of Boca's mother. All these things were left in his private room, which he locked.

It seemed that he always thought of her just before some hidden danger threatened. He had been thinking of her even aside from her presence in the patio that night when the posse had entered Showdown. He had thought of her while riding to the Ortez rancho and now he was thinking of her again . . . He raised his head and glanced around. The starlit desert was as soundless as the very sky itself.

Should he stand pat on his straight or discard the heart and draw to his straight flush? Culvera's play had shown great strength and would probably beat the pat hand. The lad took a chance and called for one card. Culvera drew two. He left them lying on the table while he discarded leisurely. "You're all in, Pheelip. It's a showdown. What you got?" Philip had drawn the six of clubs.

No posse would ride farther south than Showdown, and with Pete afoot at Flores's rancho, Malvey would be free to follow his own will, either to Blake's ranch or farther south and across the border. Whether Pete returned to Showdown or not was none of Malvey's affair. To get away with the horse might require some scheming. Malvey made no further attempt to draw Pete out but rode on in silence.

The partners looked at each other. Each read the right answer in the other's eyes. When the showdown came they'd die as cheerfully as they knew how, hoping to the last to do something for the people who must still hope that, somehow, they would cause this bitter cup of catastrophe to pass from them. And there were thousands upon thousands whose blood cried out for vengeance.

The Spider's proffer of work was accepted, but Pete asserted that he would not leave Showdown until he had got his horse. "I'll see that you get him," said The Spider. "Thanks. But I aim to git him myself." And it was shortly after this understanding that Pete sat in the patio back of the saloon waiting impatiently for Malvey to show up, and half-inclined to go out and look for him.