Part 28 (1/2)

A clamor of amazement broke from the crowd, but the deputy looked steadily, without enthusiasm, at the stranger.

”Joe c.u.mber,” he said, when the noise fell away a little, ”I guess you'll see the sheriff. Harry, take Joe c.u.mber up to Pete, will you?”

One of the bystanders jumped at the suggestion and led the other from the room, with a full half of the crowd following. The deputy remained behind, thoughtful.

”What's the matter?” asked one of the spectators. ”You look like you'd seen a ghost.”

”Gents,” answered the deputy, ”do any of you recollect seein' this feller before?”

They did not.

”They's something queer about him,” muttered the deputy.

”He may be word-shy,” proffered a wit, ”but he sure ain't gun-shy!”

”When he looked at me,” said the deputy, more to himself than to the others, ”it seemed to me like they was a swirl of yaller come into his eyes. Made me feel like some one had sneaked up behind me with a knife.”

In his thoughtfulness his eyes wandered, and wandering, they fell upon the notice of the reward for the capture, dead or alive, of Daniel Barry, about five feet nine or ten, slender, with black hair and brown eyes.

”My G.o.d!” cried the deputy.

But then he relaxed against the counter.

”It ain't possible,” he murmured.

”What ain't possible?”

”However, I'm goin' to go and hang around. Gents, I got a crazy idea.”

He had no sooner started toward the door than he seemed to gain surety out of the motion.

”It's him!” he cried. He turned toward the others, white of face. ”Come on, all of you! It's him! Barry!”

But in the meantime Harry had gone on swiftly to the office of the sheriff with ”Joe c.u.mber.” Behind him swirled the curious crowd and for their benefit he asked his questions loudly.

”Partner, that was sure a pretty play you made. I've seen 'em all try out to crack them b.a.l.l.s, but I never seen none do it the way you did--with your gun in the leather at the start. What part of the country might you be from?”

The other answered gently: ”Why, from over yonder.”

”The T O outfit, eh?”

”Beyond that.”

”Up in the Gray Mountains? That so! I s'pose you been on trails like this before?”

”Nothin' to talk about.”

There might have been a double meaning in this remark, and Harry looked twice to make sure that there was no guile.

”Well, here we are.” He threw open a door which revealed a bald-headed clerk seated at a desk in a little bare room. ”Billy, here's a gent that cracked it the first whack and started his gun from the leather, by G.o.d.

He--”