"See what he did for you.

You ain't goin' to fire on him ?" "No, by----, I ain't!" said Steele.
In his thirst for revenge he had been willing enough to oppose his rescuers; indeed, some of them would have been fighting with him; but to fight against the boys was different.

He drew his gun from its holster, threw it on the ground, went over to Whitey, and grasped him by the hand.
It would be hard to say what turned the tide of that mob's feelings.
Whether it was Whitey's standing by his father, Mrs.Steele's quick wit, or Gil's throwing down his gun, or all three.

But the tide was turned.
The desire to kill was gone, and no one knew this better than Mart Cooley.

As he and Walt Lampson moved toward the horses, he paused and spoke to Mr.Sherwood.
"You got good nerve, all right," he said, "and so has the kid." Mr.Sherwood smiled, and Mart Cooley went on into the shadows, from which he never came again, as far as the father and son's lives went.
And it must be admitted that Whitey's nerves were rather shaken by now, with the excitement of the ride and the fear for his father and all.