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But it was a giant, dim foreboding holding dominion over other men's lives, and it sent a train of chilly-weakness through his blood. "It's a habit of mine," said Jerry Strann, "to kill mad dogs when I see 'em." And he smiled again. They stood for another long instant, facing each other. It was plain that every muscle in Strann's body was growing tense; the very smile was frozen on his lips.
By that brief glow Mac Strann looked up and down the wall. The match burned out against the calloused tips of his fingers. "That wall," mused Strann, "ain't made out of the same timber as the side of the barn. That wall is whole years newer. Haw-Haw, that ain't the end of the barn. They's a holler space beyond it." He lighted another match, and then cursed softly in delight. "Look!" he commanded.
While Mac Strann stood with his eyes closed, speaking his words slowly, syllable by syllable, like the tolling of a bell, Haw-Haw Langley stood with parted lips like the spirit of famine drinking deep; joy unutterable was glittering in his eyes. "If Jerry'd wanted me to get this Barry, he'd of said so," repeated Mac Strann. "But he didn't." He turned towards the dead face. "Look at Jerry now.
"I never asked you to come," responded Mac Strann. "Mac," cried Haw-Haw in a sudden alarm, "s'pose you wasn't to win. S'pose you wasn't able to keep him away from me?" The numb lips of Mac Strann sprawled in an ugly smile, but he made no other answer. "You don't think you'll lose," hurried on Haw-Haw, "but neither did them six that Pale Annie was tellin' about, most like. But they did!
The black stallion had reached his master and now he turned, in that same catlike manner, and watched with pricking ears as Strann dragged himself up from the dust. There was no shout of laughter no cheer for that fall, and without a smile they watched Strann returning.
He whispered rapidly: "You remember last night when you was out of the room for a minute? Jerry turned his head to me jest the way he's lyin' now and I says: 'Jerry, is there anything I can do for you?" Mac Strann reached up and his big fingers closed over those of Haw-Haw. "Haw-Haw," he muttered, "you was his frien'. I know that." Haw-Haw gathered assurance.
Buck Daniels turned and found his companion strangely changed. There was a set expression of coldness about his face, and a chill glitter in his eyes. "I got to wait here for something." "What's that?" "They's a man in town that may want to see me." "Mac Strann! I've heard about him.
Once more Bart pushed himself towards Mac Strann, and then Haw-Haw Langley stepped forward, and with all the force of his long leg smashed his heavy riding boot into the face of the dog. Black Bart toppled back against the base of the manger, struggled vainly to regain his poise, and it was then that he pointed his nose up, and wailed like a lost soul, wailed with the fury of impotent hate.
When the thunder of the cavalcade had rushed upon him down the street he had turned with catlike grace and raised his head to see; and his forehead and his eyes arrested Jerry Strann like a levelled rifle.
Mac Strann shook his ponderous head and his dull eyes considered Pale Annie with an expression of almost living curiosity. "Black Bart has a record behind him that an old time gun-man would have heard with envy. There are dead men in the record of that dog, sir!"
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