And then Ferguson's gun was out; its cold muzzle pressed deep into the pit of Leviatt's stomach, and Ferguson's left hand was pinning Leviatt's right to his side, the range boss's hand still wrapped around the butt of his half-drawn weapon.

Then came Ferguson's voice again, dry, filled with a quiet earnestness: "I ain't goin' to hurt you--you're still tenderfoot with a gun.

I just wanted to show these boys that you're a false alarm.

I reckon they know that now." Leviatt sneered.

There was a movement behind Ferguson.