"
"There! They see each other!" Endicott exclaimed. Each horseman
pulled up, hesitated a moment, and rode on. Distance veiled from the
eager onlookers the significant detail of the shifted gun arms. But no
such preclusion obstructed Bat's vision as he lay flattened upon the
rim of the coulee with the barrel of his six-gun resting upon the edge
of a rock, and its sights lined low upon the stranger's armpit.
"They've dismounted," observed Alice, "I believe Tex is going to
unsaddle."
"Tightening his cinch," ventured Endicott, and was interrupted by a cry
from the lips of the girl.
"Look! The other! He's going to shoot---- Why, they're fighting!"
Fighting they certainly were, and Endicott stared in surprise as he saw
the Texan knocked down and then spring to his feet and attack his
assailant with a vigour that rendered impossible any further attempt to
follow the progress of the combat.
"Why doesn't Bat shoot, or go down there and help him?" cried the girl,
as with clenched fists she strained her eyes in a vain effort to see
who was proving the victor.
"This does not seem to be a shooting affair," Endicott answered, "and
it is my own private opinion that Tex is abundantly able to take care
of himself. Ah--he got him that time! He's down for the count! Good
work, Tex, old man! A good clean knockout!"
The two watched as the men mounted and rode their several ways--the
stranger swinging northward toward the mountains, and the Texan
following along the south face of the butte.
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