CHAPTER V.The Fight.
There were three spots of white in the dim saloon, the faces of Stewart, Lorrimer, and old Lew Perkins, and at the feet of Vic grew a spot of red.

Knowing with calm surety that no hand would lift against him even if he turned his back, he walked out the door without a word and swung into the saddle.

There, for an instant, he calculated chances, for the street stretched empty before and behind with not a sound of warning stirring in the saloon.

He was greatly tempted to ride to Dug Pym's for his blanket roll and a few other traveling necessities, but he remembered that the men of Alder rose to action with astonishing speed; within five minutes a group of hard riders would be clattering up his trail with Pete Glass at their head.

An unlucky Providence had sent Pete to Alder on this day of all days.