FullReads

Breathing hard, he looked them over one by one. “You’re a pretty bunch of citizens,” he said, with cutting contempt. “You ought to be shot–every man jack of you!” Then glancing down at the wounded gambler at his feet, he added: “Some of you better take this whelp to a doctor. He needs help.”

Lemont and another of Mink’s friends took up the unconscious man and carried him into the drug-store, and Kelley followed, with a feeling that all the town was against him, and that he must re-arm himself for a night of warfare. His revolver was gone, and to replace it and to gain a breathing-space he retreated to his room, his endurance all but exhausted.

He had no regret for what he had done. On the contrary, he took a savage satisfaction in having at last ended Mink, but as he hurriedly buckled on his cartridge-belt, he foresaw the danger ahead of him in Mink’s friends, who, he knew, would get him if they could.

The patter of feet in the hall and a knock at the door startled him. “Who’s there?” he demanded, catching up his rifle.

“It’s Rosa,” called a girlish voice. “Let me in.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. Open! Quick!”

He opened the door, gun in hand. “What is it, Rosie?” he gently asked.

“They’re coming!” she answered, breathlessly.

“Who’re coming?”

“That saloon crowd. They’re almost here!”

Other footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Run away, girl,” said Kelley, softly. “There’s going to be trouble–“

Rosie pushed him back into the room. “No, no! Let me stay! Let me help you fight!” she pleaded.

While still he hesitated, Mrs. Mink, a short, squat woman with eyes aflame with hate, rushed through the doorway and thrust a rifle against Kelley’s breast. Quick as a boxer Rosa pushed the weapon from the woman’s hands and with desperate energy shoved her backward through the door and closed it.

“Run–run!” she called to the marshal.

But Kelley did not move, and something in his face turned the girl’s face white. He was standing like a man hypnotized, every muscle rigid. With fallen jaw and staring eyes he looked at the weapon in his hand. At last he spoke huskily:

“Girl, you’ve saved my soul from hell. You surely have!” He shivered as if with cold, rubbing his hands stiffly. “Yes,” he muttered, “a second more and I’d ‘a’ killed her–killed a woman!”

The sound of a fierce altercation came up the hall. Cautious footsteps were heard approaching, and at last a voice called out, “Hello, Kelley! You there?”

“I am. What’s wanted of me?”

“It’s the mayor. Let me speak with you a minute.”

Kelley considered for a breath or two; his brain was sluggish. “Open the door, Rosie,” he finally said and backed against the wall.

The girl obeyed, and the mayor entered, but his hands were open and raised. “Don’t shoot, Ed. We’re friends.” He was followed by the judge and a couple of aldermen.

“It’s all right, Ed,” said the judge. “Mink’s coming to life. Put up your gun. We don’t blame you. He had no call to attack an officer like that–“

At the word “officer” Kelley let his rifle slip with a slam to the floor and began to fumble at the badge on his coat. “That reminds me, your Honor,” he said, at last. “Here’s a little piece of tin that belongs to you–or the city.”

He tossed the loosened badge to the mayor, who caught it deftly, protesting: “Oh, don’t quit, Ed. You’ve just about won the fight. Stay with it.”

A wry smile wrinkled one side of the trailer’s set face. “I’m no fool, your Honor. I know when I’ve got enough. I don’t mind being shot in the back and mobbed and wallered in the dirt–that’s all in the day’s work; but when it comes to having women pop in on me with Winchesters I must be excused. I’m leaving for the range. I’ll enjoy being neighbor to the conies for a while. This civilized life is a little too busy for me.”