For a long time Brand Fair looked at it.
Then he raised sombre eyes to her face.
“Eight inches to the right,” he said slowly, “and it would have been your heart.”
She nodded.
“Cattle Kate means business now,” she said, “but—I—don’t think she’ll get me.”
“Not if I can get her first,” said Fair grimly. “Now let’s have some hot water strong with salt.”
Mrs. Allison set about preparing this, while the bitter tears of one who had seen feud before, dripped down her weathered cheeks.
The boy Bud stood by the table opening and closing his hands and muttering under his quick breath—“Pappy’s gun—it’s good and true-sighted. Not high-power—but I can hide and wait—close—close——”
“If you’ll forgive a stranger, Mrs. Allison,” put in Fair, straightening up and looking at the mother, “I’d say—give him his father’s gun. And I’d say, Buddy—don’t go to pieces now after such a brave and conservative fight. Be a defender—not a murderer.”
The boy turned his dilated eyes to him, wetting his dry lips.