Morgan did not come forward. He stood as he had risen from his chair at the table, one hand on the cloth, his head bent as if in a travail of deepest thought. The shaft of tender new sunlight reaching in through the open door struck his shoulders and breast, leaving his face in the shadow that well suited the mood darkening over his soul like a storm. A thousand thoughts rose up and swirled within him, a thousand harsh charges, a thousand seeds of bitterness. Rhetta, leaning to peer under the lintel of the low door, could see him there, and she reached out her hand, appealing without a word. "He is here, honey," Mrs. Stilwell repeated, assuringly, comfortingly. "Tell him--tell him--Craddock's come!" Rhetta said. "Craddock?" said Stilwell, pronouncing the name with inflection of surprise. "Oh, I thought something awful had happened to somebody." He turned with the ease of indifference in his manner, to go back and finish his meal. "Well, didn't you look for him to come back? I knew all the time he'd come." Morgan lifted his head. The sun, broken by Rhetta's shadow, brightened on the floor at his feet, and spread its beam upon his breast like a golden stole. The old wound on his check bone was a scar now, irregular, broad from the crude surgery that had bound it but illy. Its dark disfigurement increased the somber gravity of his face, sunburned and wind-hardened as any ranger's who rode that prairie waste. From where he stood Morgan could not see the girl's face, only her restless hand on the bridle rein, the brown of her riding skirt, the beginning of white at her waist. "There ought to be men enough in Ascalon to take care of Craddock," Violet said. "He's not alone, some of those Texas cowboys are with him," Rhetta explained, her voice firmer, her words quicker. "Mr. Morgan is still marshal--he gave me his badge, but please tell him I didn't--I forgot to turn it in with his resignation." "I don't see that it's Cal's fight this time, Rhetty," Stilwell said. "He's done enough for them yellow pups over in Ascalon, to be yelped at and cussed for savin' their dirty hides." "They're looking for him, they think he's hiding!" "Well, let 'em look. If they come over here they'll find him--Cal ain't makin' no secret of where he's at. And they'll find somebody standin' back to back with him, any time they want to come." Stilwell's resentment of Ascalon's ingratitude toward his friend was plainer in his mouth than print. "They're going to burn the town to drive him out!" Rhetta said, gasping in the terror that shook her heart. "I guess it'll be big enough to hold all the people that's in it when they're through," said Stilwell, unfeelingly. "Here's his badge," said Rhetta, offering it frantically. "Tell him he's still marshal!" "Yes, you can come for him--now!" said Violet, accusingly. "I told you--you remember now what I told you!" "O Violet, Violet! If you knew what I've paid for that--if you knew!"