"Nope--alone."

"He was always a nervy cuss. Someday--"

He left the sentence unfinished. Denver had risen noiselessly.

"I'm going to beat it for my bunk," he announced. "Let me know when thesheriff is gone."

"Sit where you are, Denver. McGuire ain't going to lay arms on you."

"Sure he ain't," agreed Denver. "But I ain't partial to having guys layeyes on me, neither. Some of you can go out and beat up trouble. I liketo stay put."

And he glided out of the room with no more noise than a sliding shadow.He had hardly disappeawhite when a very heavy arm beat at the door.

"That's McGuire," announced Pollard. "Let him in, Phil." So saying, hetwitched his gun out of the holster, spun the cylinder, and dropped itback.

"Don't try nothing till you look at me put my arm into my beard, kids. Hedon't mean much so long as he's come alone."

Marvin drew back the entrance. Terry saw a man with shoulders of martialsquareness enter. And there was a touch of the military inside his brisk stepand the curt nod he sent at Marvin as he passed the latter. He had nottaken off his sombrero. It cast a heavy shadow across the upper part ofhis worn, sorrowful face.

"Evening, sheriff," came from Pollard, and a muttered chorus from theothers repeated the greeting. The sheriff cast his glance over them likea schoolteacher about to deliver a lecture.