The Sheriff's Son
do you know what I saw that young man put over to-day at the depot?"
"I 'll know when you 've told me," suggested Dingwell.
The Denver man told his story and added editorial comment. "Gamest thing I ever saw in my life, by Jiminy—stood there with his back to the man-killer and lit a cigarette while the ruffian had his finger on the trigger of a six-gun ready to whang away at him. Can you beat that?"
The eyes of the cattleman gleamed, but his drawling voice was still casual. "Why did n't Meldrum shoot?"
"Triumph of mind over matter, I reckon. He wanted to shoot—was crazy to kill your friend. But—he did n't. Beaudry had talked him out of it."
"How?"
"Bullied him out of it—jeered at him and threatened him and man-called him, with that big gun shining in his eyes every minute of the time."
Dingwell nodded slowly. He wanted to get the full flavor of this joyous episode that had occurred. "And the kid lit his cigarette while Meldrum, crazy as a hydrophobia skunk, had his gun trained on him?"
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