a public benefactor—­an’ they’ll be satisfied.  The preacher’ll preach a long sermon condemnin’ the takin’ of human life without due process of law, an’ the next Sunday he’ll preach another one about the onchristian shootin’ of folks without givin’ ’em a chanct to repent—­after they’d drawed—­an’ he’ll use the lynchin’ as a specimen of the workin’s of the hand of the Lord in bringin’ speedy justice onto the murderer.

“But they ain’t be’n no lynchin’ done.  ’Cause the boys will turn the prisoner over to me an’ I’ll hustle him acrost to the N. P. an’ let him get out of the country.”

Alice Marcum leaped to her feet:  “Oh, are you telling me the truth?  How do I know you’re not going to lynch him?  I told him I’d stay with him and see him through!”

The Texan regarded her gravely:  “You can,” he said after a moment of silence.  “I’ll have Bat take you to Snake Creek crossing an’ you can wait there ’til I come along with the pilgrim.  Then we’ll cut through the mountains an’ hit down through the bad lands an’——­”

“No you don’t, Tex Benton!” Jennie was facing him again.  “You’re a smooth one all right.  How long would it take you to lose the pilgrim there in the bad lands, even if you don’t lynch him, which it ain’t no cinch you ain’t a-goin’ to—­then where would she be?  No, sir, you don’t pull nothin’ like that off on me!”

“But I want to go!” cried Alice.  “I want to be near him, and I’m not afraid.”

The girl regarded her for a moment in silence.  “I should think you’d had enough of cowpunchers for one night.  But if you’re bound to go I ain’t got no right to hold you.  I’d go along with you if I could, but I can’t.”

“I’m not afraid,” she answered as her eyes sought the Texan’s.  “I’ve learned a lot in the past few hours.”

“I guess you ain’t learnt enough to hurt you none,” retorted Jennie, with a trace of acid in her tone.  “An’ you’ll learn a lot more ’fore you hit the N. P., or my name ain’t Jennie Dodds.  If you’re bound to go you can take my outfit.  I guess Tex’ll see that my horse comes back, anyhow.”

The cowpuncher grinned:  “Thanks, Jennie, I’m right proud to know you think I wouldn’t steal your horse.”  Once more he turned to the girl.  “When the half-breed comes for you, you go with him.  I’ve got to go on with the boys, now.”  Abruptly he left the room, and once more paused in the hall before passing through the office.  “She’s game, all right.  An’ the way she can look at a fellow out of those eyes of hers——­ By God!  Purdy ought to be’n killed!”

CHAPTER IX

THE PILGRIM

A group of saddle-horses stood before the Headquarters saloon, and as the Texan entered he was vociferously greeted by the twenty cowboys who crowded the bar.

“Come on, Tex, drink up!”

“Hell’ll be a-poppin’ down to the wool-warehouse.”