But--you yaller hearted houn'-- get out from between.

When I make my draw I'm goin' to kill that damn wolf." Now, the fighting face of Jerry Strann was well known in the Three B's, and it was something for men to remember until they died in a peaceful bed.

Yet there was not a glance, from the bystanders, for Strann.

They stood back against the wall, flattening themselves, and they stared, fascinated, at the slender stranger.

Not that his face had grown ugly by a sudden metamorphosis.