H. Bedford-Jones

“ With a surging of turned horses, the crowd headed about and started back for town. Fisher gazed after them until the darkness had swallowed up the mob; then he turned, and found Steve Arnold at his elbow.
"Red, you're sure a wonder!" exclaimed Steve admiringly. "You done it. What next?"
"Riding," replied Fisher. "Hard riding, Steve. You know the country better than I do. You have to go ahead to the Circle Bar and get every last one of Jake Harper's boys out around Buck's place; no fighting, understand, but the Running Dog outfit must be cooped up. Tell 'em to drop any man that rides out." ”

“ Their imaginations painted a dozen voices from the clumps of brush. They saw themselves trapped, surrounded. Men cursed and drew rein.
"I want a little talk, boys," said the invisible sheriff of Pecos. "We don't aim to have any more bloodshed than we got to, and you fellers are honest enough in your convictions. Willing to listen a minute?"
"Sure," said a nervous voice from the crowd.
"That's sensible." Fisher's tone was grave, steady, holding them spellbound. "I'll be at the Lazy S to-morrow to meet the coroner and the preacher. This Cervantes murder is going to be handled by the law. ”

“ Who's leading them? Nobody. They'll cool off mighty quick after leaving town. They ain't sure just what has happened or who I am. When they strike trouble in the darkness they'll be all confused and imagining things. Now, all we got to do is like this——"
He spoke for a moment, low-voiced.
The crowd of men who rode out from town on the north road was headed by the two Running Dog riders, who now had Chuck Hansom to avenge. Only their savage spurrings had availed to rouse the crowd, in fact; nobody was quite certain whether Miguel Cervantes had been murdered by Fisher or by Templeton Buck. ”