He thought of the grinning men of the saloon; the
hidden words. Somebody might have gone out and
insulted Andy to his face for the first time.
There had been plenty of insults in the past two years,
since Andy could pretend to manhood, but none that
might not be overlooked. “Who’s been
talkin’ to you?” repeated Uncle Jasper.
“Confound that Buck Heath! He’s the
cause of all the trouble!”
“Buck Heath! Who’s he? Oh, I
remember. What’s he got to do with the
rotten life we lead here, Uncle Jas?”
“So?” said the old man slowly. “He
ain’t nothin’?”
“Bah!” remarked Andy. “You
want me to go out and fight him? I won’t.
I got no love for fighting. Makes me sort of
sickish.”
“Heaven above!” the older man invoked.
“Ain’t you got shame? My blood in
you, too!”
“Don’t talk like that,” said Andy
with a certain amount of reserve which was not natural
to him. “You bother me. I want a little
silence and a chance to think things out. There’s
something wrong in the way I’ve been living.”
“You’re the last to find it out.”
“If you keep this up I’m going to take
a walk so I can have quiet.”
“You’ll sit there, son, till I’m
through with you. Now, Andrew, these years I’ve
been savin’ up for this moment when I was sure
that—”
To his unutterable astonishment Andy rose and stepped
between him and the door. “Uncle Jas,”
he said, “mostly I got a lot of respect for you
and what you think. Tonight I don’t care
what you or anybody else has to say. Just one
thing matters. I feel I’ve been living in
the dirt. I’m going out and see what’s
wrong. Good night.”
Uncle Jas was completely bowled over. Over against
the wall as the door closed he was saying to himself:
“What’s happened? What’s happened?”
As far as he could make out his nephew retained very
little fear of the authority of Jasper Lanning.
One thing became clear to the old man. There
had to be a decision between his nephew and some full-grown
man, otherwise Andy was very apt to grow up into a
sneaking coward. And in the matter of a contest
Jasper could not imagine a better trial horse than
Buck Heath. For Buck was known to be violent
with his hands, but he was not likely to draw his
gun, and, more than this, he might even be bluffed
down without making a show of a fight. Uncle
Jasper left his house supperless, and struck down
the street until he came to the saloon.
He found Buck Heath warming to his work, resting both
elbows on the bar. Bill Dozier was with him,
Bill who was the black sheep in the fine old Dozier
family. His brother, Hal Dozier, was by many odds
the most respected and the most feared man in the
region, but of all the good Dozier qualities Bill
inherited only their fighting capacity. He fought;
he loved trouble; and for that reason, and not because
he needed the money, he was now acting as a deputy
