The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-09

ranch. The King Fisher gang. likely. An so the towns shore wide open"
 Duane stalked outdoors and faced down the street. He walked the whole length of the long block, meeting many people-farmers, ranchers, clerks, merchants, Mexicans, cowboys and women. It was singular fact that when he turned to retrace his steps the street was almost empty. If it was an instinct for Texans to fight, it was also instinctive for them to sense with remarkable quickness the signs of a coming gun-play. Rumor could not fly so swiftly. In less than ten minutes everybody who had been on the street or in the shops knew that Buck Duane had come forth to meet his enemy.
 Duane walked on. When he came swerved out into the middle of the street, stood there for moment, then went ahead and back to the sidewalk. He passed on in this way the length of the block. Sol White was standing in the door of his saloon.
 Buck, I'm a-tippin' you of" he said, quick and low-voiced. "Cal Bains over at Everall's. If he's a-huntin' you bad, as he brags, he'll show there."
 Duane crossed the street and start ed down. Notwithstanding Whites statement, Duane was wary and slow at every door. Nothing happened, and he traversed almost the whole length of the block without seeing q person. Everalls place was on the corner.
 Duane knew himself to be cold. steady. He was conscious of strange fury that made him want to leap ahead. He seemed to long for this en- counter more than anything he had ever wanted. But, vivid as were his sensations. he felt as if in dream.
 Before he reached Everau's he heard loud voices, one of which was raised high. Then the short door swung out ward as if impelled by a vigorous hand. A bowlegged cowboy wearing woolly chaps burst out upon the sidewalk. At sight of Duane he seemed to bound into the air, and he uttered savage roar.
 Duane stopped in his tracks at the outer edge of the sidewalk, perhaps a dozen rods from Everall's door.
 If Bain was drunk he did not show 1t in his movement. He SWaggered forward, rapidly closing up the gap. Red, sweaty, diSheveled and hatless, his face distorted and expressive of the most malignant intent, he was q wild and sinister figure. He had all ready killed man, and this showed in his demeanor. His hands were extend ed before him, the right hand little lower than the left. At every step he beloved his rancor in speech mostly curses. Gradually he slowed his walk, then halted. A good twenty-five paces separated the men.
 "Won't nothin' make you draw, you
 -!" he shouted fiercely.
 'Tm waitin' on you, Cal" replied Duane.
 Bain's right hand stiffened-moved Duane threw his gun as q boy throws a ball underhand-a draw his father had taught him. He pulled twice, his shots almost as one. Bain's big Colt boomed while it was pointed down. ward and he was falling. His bullet scattered dust and gravel at Duanes feet He fell loosely, without contor- tion.
 In flash all was reality for Duane. He went forward and held his gun ready for the slightest movement on the part of Bain. But Bain lay upon his back, and all that moved were his breast and his eyes. How strangely the red had left his face-and also the distortion! The devil that had showed in Bain was gone. He was sober and conscious, He tried to speak, but failed. His eyes expressed something pitifully human. They changed rolled-set blankly.
 Duane drew deep breath and sheathed his gun. He felt calm and cool, glad the fray was over. One violent expression burst from him. "The fool!"
 When he looked up there were men around him.
 Plumb center" said one.
 Another, n cowboy who evidently had just left the gaming table, leaned down and pulled open Bain's shirt. He had the ace of spades in his hand. He laid it on Bain's breast, and the black figure on the card covered the two bullet holes just over Bain's heart.
 Duane wheeled and hurried away. He heard another man say:
 "Reckon Cal got what he deserved. Buck Duane's first gun-play. Like fa- ther like sonp'
 CHAPTER II.