Max Brand

“ To Red Stanton in the morning it had seemed that nothing was more important than to win the favor of the girl. He could have sworn that the happiest man in the mountains was that man who could make her smile. But since the morning another nature had risen in Red Stanton, his true self. Now he swung around on the girl with his muscular arm outstretched, pointing. But it was almost as though he had struck her down.
"You," he said, "what are you doing in here? Ain't this a man's place to hear man talk? Run along and sit in a corner. ”

“ They crowded around it, clamoring with wonder, and from the farther side of the room arose Pete Burnside. His square jaw was set, and his face was white, and there was an almost maniacal light in his eyes. He was drawn nearer and near to the center of interest. His movements were like those of a sleep walker.
In the meantime the talk turned back to the stranger from whose saddlebag that steel plate, with the quilting down the back, had been taken. The controversy raged hot about him. Should all that he knew be torn out of him? Should they torture him until he was glad to speak? ”

“ They wanted to know whether or not he had formed a part of the gang which operated under Joe Daly. They demanded to know where the rendezvous of that gang might be. But the prisoner would not speak. In vain they had tried every persuasion on him. They had tried to corner him by showing their knowledge that the very horse, which he rode was known to be the favorite horse of Joe Daly, but still he could not be induced to speak.
Then Red Stanton had tried other measures. The muzzle of the unfortunate man's own six-shooter had been heated and pressed into his flesh. ”