Fargo instantly decided it would not be wise to attempt to disobey these summons. Like most wrongdoers he had an abject horror and fear of the law, and the moment was of the greatest terror he had ever known. Yet he dared not turn and flee. In his panic he was unable to remember that not in one chance out of a hundred could a bullet find him in the darkness. For all he knew the man at the fire was already staring at him through his sights, and possibly the whole camp was surrounded by the officers. His mouth felt dry, his hands numb as he rode out into the circle of firelight. And then his fear changed in a moment to devastating rage. The form was revealed quite clearly now: simply that of a lowly sheep herder in soiled clothes and with unshaven face. Had José lied about the murder? Yet this man was not Dan, the herder. There was nothing to believe but that Crowson had already discovered the crime and had hired a substitute. There was nothing to fear here. His arrogance swept back to him and his eyes leaped savagely over the trim form that now had risen to greet him. It was a slender figure, the kind he could hammer to paste beneath his flailing fists. He swung down from the saddle, once more feeling himself completely master of the situation. “What do you mean?” he demanded savagely, “hollerin’ out and threatenin’ me that way.” Hugh looked at him, considering just what he had meant. And perhaps his lips drew up in a faint smile. If there was one thing his experience with the sheep had taught him, it was to smile: smile at misfortune, smile at the little, everyday comedy of life,—and smile with real amusement at such storming, bullying men as this. But it was true that a moment before he had not been in the humor for mirth. He had known at once that the step in the darkness was not that of the coyote, or any of the hunters of the wild. It was a horse, and its rider could kill from a distance: perhaps it was the same foe that had crept into camp the previous night and had murdered Dan. His voice—he remembered with a strange, inward pleasure—had sounded level and clear; but nevertheless a wholly justified apprehension had been upon him. He had been entirely at a disadvantage. He made a fair target beside the leaping flame and he could not see his enemy at all. And he was still somewhat white about the lips as he stood up.