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It had been a cowardly attitude, and she was glad that she had shaken it off. As her brain, under the spur of the sudden excitement, resumed its function, her thoughts flitted to the agent's babble during the time she had been sending the telegram to her father. She talked rapidly, her voice carrying far: "Trevison got the record last night. He stopped at my ranch and showed it to me.
"I'm the construction boss av this section, an' I'm the mon that had the unhappy experience av lookin' into the business end av 'Firebrand's' six-shooter yisterday." "'Firebrand's'?" she said, with a puzzled look at him. "Thot mon, Trevison, ma'am; that's what they call him. An' he fits it bedad beggin' your pardon." "Oh," she said; "then you know him." And she felt a sudden interest in Carson.
Well, it seems that the pickpocket got just what he deserved." He offered the deputy a cigar, and the latter went out, satisfied. Later, Corrigan looked appraisingly at Levins, who still graced the office. "That was rather an easy job," he said. "Marchmont was slow with a gun. With a faster man a man, say " he appeared to meditate " like Trevison, for instance. You'd have to be pretty careful "
Since then, whenever Nigger sees a gun in anyone's hand, he thinks it's time to bowl that man over. There's no holding him. He won't even stand for anyone pulling a handkerchief out of a hip pocket when I'm on him." Trevison grinned. "Try it, Carson, but get that boulder between you and Nigger before you do." "I don't like the look av the baste's eye," declined the Irishman.
"There, there, dear," soothed Agatha. "I am sure everything will come out all right. But Trevison does look to be the sort of a man who would abduct a judge, doesn't he? If I were a girl, and felt that he were in love with me, I'd be mighty careful " "That he wouldn't abduct you?" laughed the girl, tremulously, cheered by the change in her relative's manner. "No," said Agatha, slyly.
He left Lefingwell, not trusting himself to argue the question of the man's attitude, and went down to the station, where he found a telegram awaiting him. It was from Judge Graney: Coming home. Case sent back to Circuit Court for hearing. Depend on you to get evidence. Trevison crumpled the paper and shoved it savagely into a pocket.
He stretched himself out with a sigh, oppressed with the conviction that he had done a bad day's work in antagonizing Trevison. The Diamond K owner would repay him, he knew. But he knew, too, that he need have no fear that Trevison would sneak about it. Therefore he did not expect to feel Trevison at his throat during the night. That was some satisfaction.
At a turn in the butte he came upon them both, their horses halted, the girl berating Levins, the man laughing lowly at her. "Don't!" she cried to Trevison as he rode up. "Please, Trevison don't let that happen! It's criminal; it's outlawry!" "Too late," he said grimly, and rode close to her to grasp the bridle of her horse.
"I know how you feel. But you can't fight the law with lawlessness. You lie quiet until you hear from me. That is all there is to be done, anyway win or lose." Trevison clenched his teeth.
Changing his tactics, his breath lagging in his throat from the terrible pressure on it, Trevison worked his right hand into the other's stomach with the force and regularity of a piston rod. The big man writhed under the punishment, dropping his hand from Trevison's chin to his waist, swung him from his feet and threw him from him as a man throws a bag of meal.
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