The whole affair had been like a flash of fire, neither pursuers nor pursued realizing the half of the story in those first rapid seconds of breathless action.

But back yonder lay a dead man, and every instinct of the border demanded a victim in return.
At the summit of the ore dump the two men flung themselves panting down, for the first time able now to realize what it all meant.

They could perceive the figures of their pursuers among the shadows of the bushes below, but these were not venturing out into the open--the first mad, heedless rush had evidently ended.

There were some cool heads among the mob leaders, and it was highly probable that negotiations would be tried before that crowd hurled itself against two desperate men, armed and entrenched.

Both fugitives realized this, and lay there coolly watchful, their breath growing more regular, their eyes softening.
"Whut is all this fuss about, anyhow ?" questioned the marshal, evidently somewhat aggrieved.