against his house, and his life if he should interpose to protect it.
He had not slept in the house that night, Tippie's counsel in that particular being heeded. Galloway's men might come in the night, drench his little house with kerosene, and roast him in it. Many a sheepman and herder had gone that fiery way in the contests of the northwestern range. Rawlins was no stranger to the hideous practice.
Rawlins' faith in his venture was shaken. Of course a man had to start somewhere, but, as Clemmons had said, there were safer places and more comfortable. Mrs. Peck had found a convenient excuse for repudiating her agreement; the sheepmen around would be quick to hop in and profit by his victory, chance it that he should win, and he would be left holding the sack.
But he could not abandon the venture now. His honor was involved, his courage had been challenged. More than that, the old feeling of resentment against Galloway for building that barrier, fencing him off from his destiny, as he regarded it, rose up renewed. Sheep or no sheep, he would hold that homestead, if for no other purpose or reward than the vindication of an American citizen's rights.
It was an aim entirely altruistic, somewhat uselessly heroic. Galloway would close the gap in the fence at the township line after Rawlins had been forced, by lack of funds to carry out his enterprise, to pursue his fortunes in some more congenial atmosphere. Or perhaps the sheepmen would be strong enough to hold it by that time, and one of them would jump his claim the hour his back was turned.
