"You damned fool!" came Lawler's voice into the vacuumlike stillness of
the cabin. "You haven't got nerve enough to shoot a coyote!"

Hamlin knew it; he knew, now, at least, that he hadn't had nerve enough
to shoot Lawler. He cringed under Lawler's contemptuous tone. And then
he became aware that Lawler was speaking again.

"I'm giving you another chance. I'm letting you off, clean. For Ruth's
sake.

"Look here, Hamlin!"

Hamlin's chin was caught in an iron grasp and he found himself looking
into the terrible eyes. He saw grim pity in the eyes and he shuddered.

"Ruth knows you're stealing cattle. Everybody knows it, now. Who is
buying them?"

"Singleton."

"Singleton!" Lawler's voice snapped with astonishment. "Dave Singleton,
Lefingwell's old range boss?"

Hamlin nodded. And then the grip of Lawler's fingers on his chin
relaxed. He heard Lawler step back, but he did not lift his head for a
few minutes, during which a strained silence descended upon the room.
Then he covertly raised his head, to see Lawler standing with his arms
folded over his chest, watching him.