"What I can't make out," said Joe Pollard, voicing the sentiments of the rest, "is how Bud Larrimer, that's as slow as a plow horse with a gun, could ever find the guts to challenge Terry Hollis to a fair fight." Kate Pollard rose anxiously with a suggestion. Today or tomorrow at the latest she expected the arrival of Elizabeth Cornish, and so far it had been easy to keep Terry at the house. The gang was gorged with the loot of the Lewison robbery, and Terry's appetite for excitement had been cloyed by that event also. This strange challenge from the older Larrimer was the fly in the ointment. "It ain't hard to tell why he sent that challenge," she declared. "He has some sneaking plan up his sleeve, Dad. You know Bud Larrimer. He hasn't the nerve to fight a boy. How'll he ever manage to stand up to Terry unless he's got hidden backing?" She herself did not know how accurately she was hitting off the situation; but she was drawing it as black as possible to hold Terry from accepting the challenge. It was her father who doubted her suggestion. "It sounds queer," he said, "but the gents of these parts don't make no ambushes while McGuire is around. He's a clean shooter, is McGuire, and he don't stand for no shady work with guns." Again Kate went to the attack. "But the sheriff would do anything to get Terry. You know that. And maybe he isn't so particular about how it's done. Dad, don't you let Terry make a step toward town! I _know_ something would happen! And even if they didn't ambush him, he would be outlawed even if he won the fight. No matter how fair he may fight, they won't stand for two killings in so short a time. You know that, Dad. They'd have a mob out here to lynch him!" "You're right, Kate," nodded her father. "Terry, you better stay put." But Terry Hollis had risen and stretched himself to the full length of his height, and extended his long arms sleepily. Every muscle played smoothly up his arms and along his shoulders. He was fit for action from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. "Partners," he announced gently, "no matter what Bud Larrimer has on his mind, I've got to go in and meet him. Maybe I can convince him without gun talk. I hope so. But it will have to be on the terms he wants. I'll saddle up and lope into town." He started for the door. The other members of the Pollard gang looked at one another and shrugged their shoulders. Plainly the whole affair was a bad mess. If Terry shot Larrimer, he would certainly be followed by a lynching mob, because no self-respecting Western town could allow two members of its community to be dropped in quick succession by one man of an otherwise questionable past. No matter how fair the gunplay, just as Kate had said, the mob would rise. But on the other hand, how could Terry refuse to respond to such an invitation without compromising his reputation as a man without fear? There was nothing to do but fight.