"You're right, Hardy."

Lorry's gray eyes shone with a peculiar light. "What you goin' to do
about it, Buck?"

"Two of my boys are out looking for the man. You're under arrest till he
is brought in."

"You aim to lock me in that calaboose?"

"No. But, understand, you're under arrest. You can't leave town."

"Say, now, Buck, ain't you kind of crowdin' me into the fence?"

"I'd arrest my own brother for a trick like that."

Lorry gazed at the ground for a minute. He glanced up. Alice Weston sat
watching them. She could not hear what they were saying, but their
attitudes confirmed her apprehension.

"I'd like to speak to ma a minute," said Lorry.

"Go ahead. There's no hurry."

Waring, who had been watching his son closely, strolled to the veranda
steps and sat down.

Hardy lighted a cigar. "I hate to do this, Waring," he told the other.

"That's all right, Hardy."