Marion too looked, and understood. She had not dismounted, but still sat her pony within ten feet of the outlaw, at the side of the roadway, in about the middle of which stood Huntington. With an effort she drew her eyes away from that ominous black spot in the distance, and turned toward Seth. A shiver ran through her body, but her cheeks burned, and there was a voice in her ears that shouted, "Tell him he's a fool to anger me!" For a moment she was on the point of rushing upon Seth, and shrieking that warning into his face. But now it was too late. Like all the others Huntington stood for a few seconds fascinated by that figure in the puff of dust. And for just those few seconds there was a certain unsteadiness in his attitude, irresolution in the black eyes beneath their bushy brows. But the blue-whiteness under the dark beard was not the pallor of fear, so called. Seth Huntington was as incapable of physical cowardice as he was of moral courage. He was not afraid of Philip Haig, but he was dreadfully afraid of being thought afraid of him. There was yet time to avoid a clash with Haig, to withdraw from an undertaking in which he knew he was wholly in the wrong. But he was not equal to that test of character. He would sooner tackle all the Haigs in Christendom than face the derision of his neighbors, whom he had assiduously taught to expect great things of him on the first occasion. Here was the occasion; he had seized it, blinded by passion; and there was no way for him now but to see it through. He straightened up, and faced the three cow-punchers. "All right!" he cried defiantly. "It's a thousand." But the three had heard the name murmured by the crowd, had seen the distant horseman. Larkin was plainly elated. Raley and Smith, as plainly abashed, looked this way and that, avoiding the eyes of their leader, and every other eye as well. Huntington, seeing the game about to slip from his hands, whirled on his heel and looked swiftly toward the store. "Thompson!" he yelled. "Here!" was the answer, as a small, gray-bearded man in shirt sleeves advanced a step or two from the door. "Fetch me that roll from your safe, will you?" "Right!" As Thompson disappeared within the store, Huntington turned again toward the cowboys. "A thousand dollars--cash!" he repeated. Larkin leaned forward on his horse, and looked at him shrewdly. "Seems to me it's not the horse you're after so much as him," he said, with a grin and a nod toward the road. "That's as may be," retorted Huntington. "Money talks." "An' it says mighty funny things sometimes," replied Larkin, who now made no concealment of his dislike of Huntington and his "game." "We'll see!" cried Huntington angrily. "How does twelve hundred sound to you two?" He looked steadily at Raley and Smith, who exchanged glances.