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"Then perhaps you'll take a look at my room now, and allow me to retire again."
"I don't need to look there, ma'am," the man replied. "I'm awful sorry we troubled you."
"That's the way to talk," said a quiet voice from the door.
The leader whirled instantly to look into the ominous muzzle of a heavy automatic held by Casey Dunne.
"Put that gun down, and your hands up!" snapped Casey. "Quick! No nonsense! I'll kill the first man that tries anything."
The quiet had gone from his voice; it bit like acid. Strange, hard lights danced in his eyes. The hand that held the gun had not a tremor.
Clyde, looking at him, saw and recognized in his face the cold deadliness which she had once seen in McHale's.
Without an instant's hesitation the leader put his weapon on the table.
"You win once," he observed.
"That's sensible," Casey commented. "Now, perhaps you'll tell me what this means?"
"No objection in the world," the other replied coolly. "We wanted to interview McHale."
"Is that so? Well, Tom isn't here to-night Mr. Dade. By the way, unless you really like it you needn't wear that transformation scheme across your face. Same remark applies to the other gentlemen. I like to know my visitors."
Dade laughed, removing the handkerchief. "Take a good look. You may see me again."
"Any time you like, Mr. Dade. And what did you want with McHale?"
"Well," Dade answered calmly, "we figured that he'd help us take the stretch out of a new rope."
"n.o.body else would do?" queried Casey.
"We wanted him."
"I see. And had our mutual friend, Mr. Cross, anything to do with your desire? By the way, how _is_ Mr. Cross? Or should I say the late Mr.
Cross?"
"Not yet," Dade replied. "He's got a chance."
"Then aren't you too previous?"
"McHale laid for him, and plugged him as he came out of s.h.i.+ller's,"
Dade declared.
"Cross came out of s.h.i.+ller's with his gun in his hand to get McHale,"
said Casey. "McHale was ent.i.tled to shoot. It was an even break."
"That's not how I heard it."
"That's what McHale says, and it goes with me."
"It don't go with me," Dade declared. "Me and Cross is partners--has been for years. I'm out to get McHale, and you can send him word. I reckon he ain't here, or he'd be obvious."
"He'd be mighty obvious," Casey agreed. "I may as well tell you, Mr.
Dade, that this feud business makes me tired. It's sinful, and, worse than that, it's out of date. You take notice, now, that we won't stand for it. You've pretty well played out your string here, anyway."
Dade stared at him. "I reckon you'll have to talk a little plainer, Dunne."
"Isn't that plain enough? This shooting was square. You let it go as it lies. Otherwise we'll clean up your whole bunch."
Dade laughed. "That's sure plain," he admitted. "I like nerve, and you've got it a-plenty, but you ain't got me buffaloed at all. You heard what I said. It goes."
"Suit yourself," said Casey. "I'll send McHale word. Anything else I can do for you to-night?"
"Not a thing," Dade replied. "We'll be going--unless you want us to stay. I'm sorry we disturbed the lady, but I sure thought McHale was in here."
"She'll forgive you," said Casey. "That part of it's all right. Better think over what I said. I mean it."
"So do I," said Dade grimly. "You can send McHale word."
As Casey closed the door and set a chair against it in place of the damaged fastenings, Kitty Wade peeped from her room.
"Are the outlaws g-gone?" she asked.
"They have went," her husband replied. "You are saved, m'dear. Your little heart may now palpitate in normal palps."
His wife, looking altogether charming and girlish, emerged.
"Well, I _was_ frightened," she admitted. "I'd give worlds to be as brave as Clyde."
Clyde, feeling Casey's eyes upon her, flushed and gathered her dressing gown closer, conscious for the first time of her attire. "Oh, nonsense, Kitty!" she responded. "I was really shaking in my shoes."
"You didn't show it," Casey commented. "There isn't one girl in a thousand who would have been as cool."
"I agree with you," said Wade. He put his arm around his wife. "Better go back to roost, little girl."
"Not until I hear all about it," said Kitty. "Go and get a bath robe or something, like a good boy. Pajamas are very becoming, and all the best people wear 'em, but----"
"I beg everybody's pardon!" Wade exclaimed in confusion. "I thought I had on my--er--that is, it never struck me that I wasn't clad in orthodox garments." He was back in a moment, swathed in a bath robe.
"Now, Casey, tell us how you happened to make that stage entrance?"
"Not much to tell about it," Casey replied. "I had an old Indian bedded down in the hay in the stable, and he saw or heard this outfit riding in and woke me up. As a matter of fact, the old boy was just outside with a shotgun all the time. We had that much moral support. He came to tell me that this outfit meant to get Tom."
"This McHale business is serious," said Wade.
"Very serious. I don't mean so far as Tom is concerned; he can take care of himself. But you can see that we can't allow these men to bulldoze us. It's McHale now. To-morrow it may be some one else."
"Yes, I see. But what can you do about it? The law----"
"It's outside the law," said Casey. "The law is too slow. We'll make our own law. h.e.l.lo! What's that?"