throat. The two men now clinched breast to breast, and, with arms
round each other's bodies, each began to try to throw the other down.
They swung back and forth and from side to side, but they were well
mated.

Westerfelt suddenly threw his left leg behind Wambush's heels and began
to force him backward. In an instant Wambush would have gone down, but
seeing his danger he wriggled out of Westerfelt's grasp, drew something
from his coat pocket, and sprang towards him.

"Knife! knife! knife!" cried Luke Bradley in alarm. "Part 'em!"

"Yes, part 'em!" echoed the bar-keeper with an oath, as if the edge of
his pleasure had been taken off by the more serious turn of affairs.
Several men ran towards Wambush, but they were not quick enough. He
had stabbed Westerfelt once in the breast and drawn back his arm for
another thrust, when Luke Bradley caught his wrist. Wambush struck at
Bradley with his left hand, but the bar-keeper caught it, and between
him and Bradley, Wambush was overpowered.

"The sheriff's coming!" a voice exclaimed, as a big man rode up quickly
and dismounted.

"Hello!" he cried, "I summon you, Buck Hillhouse, and Luke Bradley, in
the name o' the law to 'rest Wambush. Take that knife from 'im!"

"Arrest the devil!" came from Wambush's bloody lips. He made a violent
effort to free himself, but the two men held him.

"I'll he'p yer, whether you deputize me or not!" grunted Bradley, as he