She didn�t go into the store. She marched across the wide, dusty street, and at each step, her back stiffened and her chin tilted higher.

Pace whistled softly to himself. She was carrying trouble to somebody, he decided. He angled across the street, moving with apparent slowness, but narrowing the distance between them.

She turned in an office with the words, �Gar Testerman, Cattle Buyer,� lettered on the door.

Pace ventured a look through the window. He saw an office furnished with leather chairs, filing cabinets, a gleaming, new rolltop desk. At the sound of Nancy�s entry, a man was swinging his swivel chair around at the desk to face her.

He was a big, bluff-looking man with a shock of iron gray hair, a mustache of the same color, and gray eyes beneath beetling brows.

�Gar Testerman,� Nancy announced, �you owe me for a pair of millstones � not that I hope to collect. But I want you to know you haven�t run me out of business with that dynamite cap trick.�

The cattle buyer stood up. He was a good six two, and would tip at least two hundred, Pace guessed. He dwarfed the girl, a fearsome-looking man with those brows and stern face. But he failed to overawe the girl. She had worked up too much of a mad.

Testerman smoothed his expensive doe-colored frock coat, lighted a cigar, and said flatly, �Girl, you�re crazy!�

�Of course you�d deny it.�

�Deny anything I don�t know about.� He took her by the arm, leading her toward the door. �Now don�t come back in here bothering me with a lot of tomfoolery.�

Testerman and girl both drew up as Pace�s shadow fell across them from the doorway.

Pace grabbed Gar�s wrist in a hard grip. The cattle buyer was so surprised he released Nancy�s arm. Pace pushed the girl toward the front of the office, turned to follow her.

Testerman cursed in erupting rage, caught Pace�s shoulder, whirled him, and swung.

Pace blocked the blow. He retreated, keeping himself between Testerman and the girl. The big man moved with surprising speed. His second punch landed high on Pace�s cheek. Pace decided it was high time to hit back, even if he was on another man�s premises. He threw a hard right. Testerman laughed, danced away, and his huge fist seemed to come from nowhere.

Pace felt as if his nose was splattered all over his face. He hit the floor with a crash. This was going to be tougher than he�d thought, decidedly. He rolled to one side, started to get to his feet, and Testerman hit him with a chair.

At least the fight was over, Pace thought as his senses swooped into the black nothingness of unconsciousness.

Pace returned to the land of the living with a groan and the distinct feeling that his throbbing nose was larger than his head. He raised a hand as his senses cleared, touched the nose, and flinched. It didn�t seem to be broken, but Pace guessed he�d be without a sense of smell for a week or two.

He opened his eyes and sat up. He hadn�t been out long. It was not yet fully dark, and in the dusky light he got his vision into focus enough to see that he was in a narrow, hot jail cell.

He tried to collect his thoughts and take stock of his situation. He heard voices, and then footsteps approached the cell. Nancy came first, looking at him with concern.

He managed a faint grin. �Didn�t make such a good showing, did I?�

�You did fine, Texas. But I feel terrible, knowing it was because of me.�

�Gar Testerman have me put in here?�

She nodded, biting her lips. �I think we�re going to get you out. I... I told the sheriff you work for me and took full responsibility.�

�Thanks.�

�Could I do any less?� Her eyes flashed suddenly. �But I wish you�d stayed out of it. Haven�t I got enough trouble already?�

Two men came out of the front office, stopping before the cell. The first was Gar Testerman, smoking a fresh cigar and looking completely unruffled. The second was a portly man dressed in woolen pants stuffed into runover boots, a blue shirt that stretched across his ample paunch, and a leather vest which hung open and was decorated with a tin star. He had a large, dew-lapped, whisky-veined face and merry blue eyes.

Even his present stern demeanor failed to quench completely the lurking humor of the sheriff�s eyes. �Young feller, next time tackle a less experienced man. Why, before he came west, Gar Testerman once went ten rounds with the great John L. Sullivan himself.�

�Somebody should have told me,� Pace said. �Who�s going to look after my horse, and what�s the charge?�

�The charge is trespassing � but Mr. Testerman will drop it, the girl being held legally accountable for any actions of yours in the immediate future. So you can look after your own horse.�

�Thanks.�

The sheriff unlocked the cell. Pace stepped out. Gar Testerman drew his beetling brows together. �Never lead with your right, son.�

�Thanks for nothing. I owe you a punch in the nose.�

�Hear him now, Bigby?� Testerman said.

�I do,� the sheriff said. �You want to go back in that cell?�

�The best thing he can do,� Testerman said, �is get out of town.�

It was a flat warning, and, having made it, Gar turned and walked from the jail.

Pace, Nancy, and the sheriff walked to the front office, where the sheriff returned property he�d taken from Pace�s pockets.

�Now let�s go over and see if we can find any clues as to who did that mill-wrecking.�

Pace watched the sheriff at work. The sheriff�s full name was Bigby Barnes, Pace learned. He also learned and suspected much more from the lackadaisical way Bigby inspected the millwheel housing and tracks outside, grunting now and then. A few sympathetic clucks of the tongue was about the ultimate of Bigby�s proficiency.

He leaned against the wall of the mill finally, rubbing the sweatband of his hat with a bandanna. �Downright sorry it happened, Nancy, but I don�t see a thing here to work on. Your description of the man who brought the corn might fit any of half a dozen people. If anything else turns up, let me know.� He replaced his hat. �Wish there was something I could do, but the law has to have proof. Well, I�ll give it a good think.�

He waddled off, Nancy staring after him bitterly. �Proof! He�s too easy going and lazy to hunt for proof, exactly the kind of law Gar Testerman wants in this town. All he does is sit in Oliver Frady�s saloon and play pinochle.�

She walked toward the rear of the store; then stopped, turned back and said, �Come on, Texas. You look like you need something done for that nose. I owe you that much certainly.�

Penick�s bootheel ground against Pace�s hand, and the sapling fell away. Then Penick used the toe of the boot against Pace�s jaw. The blow paralyzed his senses. Pace knew what was going on, but he couldn�t do anything about it. They used him for a punching bag, and it seemed considerable time passed before the blessing of unconsciousness wiped away the pain.

With the advent of the morning sun, a dusty, blood-caked caricature of a man maintained his precarious, rolling position astride a dun horse by holding the saddle horn. The man managed to knee-rein the horse around to the rear of the Fairfax town general store; then the man came loose from the saddle and staggered toward the rear. Before he could knock, the door was jerked open.

Nancy Dinsmore stared with wide eyes. �Pace! What happened to you?�

�Met your loco mavericks, Penick and Searcy.�

She caught his arm, helped him inside. �They thought I was working for you,� he said.

Her lips thinned. �Testerman again. I had to say that yesterday in the sheriff�s office.�

�It looks like you�re right. Testerman � or somebody who heard from him or the sheriff that you had a new hand.�

The talk spent him. He was content to do nothing but groan into a chair and let the girl bring hot coffee to his lips.

�Texas,� she said, a sudden break in her voice, �why�d you have to be unlucky enough to stop here?�

He looked at her and a grin came to his stiff lips. �Luckiest man alive,� he said, �hearing that concern in your voice.�

She turned her face. �Don�t go courting me, Texas.�

�Any law against it?�

�No, but there are things you don�t know about me.�

He touched her chin, turned her face toward his. �Not married?�

�No.�

�Ain�t got a fellow?�

�No.�

�Then I�m a candidate. And I know all I need to about you, so let�s leave the matter there.�

She bit her lower lip, and for the second time in twenty-four hours her fingers were gentle as she doctored his face.

Sleep is nature�s own medicine, Pace thought, awakening in early afternoon. He was still stiff and sore in spots, but confidence and a clarity of mind had returned. He dressed in the bedroom Nancy told him had been Kyle Dinsmore�s.

Out in the kitchen, he found that she had left food for him in the stove warmer. As he ate, he heard someone enter the store, a man�s voice, then Nancy�s.

Pace slid over to the door that opened into the store. It was slightly open, and he saw Nancy�s caller, though she was beyond his line of vision.

From her greeting, Pace knew the man was Oliver Frady, the saloon owner she�d mentioned. Oliver was a big man, the kind who looked sloppy no matter what the cost of his clothes. He was short, fat, and bald, and sweating like a greased pig. Pace guessed that the heat always bothered Frady.

Oliver wiped his face with practiced motions of a bandanna. He was speaking earnestly: �I heard your mill got ruined. Wanted to come over, but haven�t had the chance. Busy in the saloon. Girl, why don�t you sell this place?�

From Nancy�s silence, Pace guessed the prospect was attractive.

Oliver stuffed his bandanna in his pocket and lighted a thin pantella. The smoke wreathed about his head. �You know you can�t go on here, girl. Not and give those nesters credit.�

�I can�t go on and refuse them either, Oliver.�

He nodded. �I know you feel that way. And I don�t blame you for refusing to let a bunch of toughs dictate how to run your business and interfere in your life. But there�s even more than just you and the nesters at stake. There�s Oliver Frady himself. I�ve loaned those people money on their claims. If you get burnt out here or shut up, the nesters move on. No crops, no money, no pay mortgages.�

About ten o�clock Pace heard a group of horsemen ride out of town. Pace rose, fully dressed except for boots. He slipped these on and walked to the window. He saw the dust cloud in the moonlight; from the size of it, he guessed most of Fairfax had hit the trail for some reason.

He stepped quietly out of the store, crossed the street to the saloon, where the only lights were visible.

Oliver Frady was alone, turning off the lights as Pace entered. �The customers all went with the sheriff.�

�Trouble?�

�That Ellis Callaway turned out to be a hand, newly hired, on the Bar-J, one of the ranches Gar Testerman has an interest in. Somebody slugged the sheriff and busted Callaway out of jail not twenty minutes ago. Soon as the sheriff came to, he got a posse together and lit out after Callaway.�

Pace let his shoulders relax. So it was Testerman after all. With the sheriff, it was logical to assume that he�d round up every available townsman to go after Callaway. He wouldn�t do the job alone. Which might mean that the breaking out of Callaway had been for the simple and express purpose of taking most of the able-bodied men out of town. Callaway�s capture had shown that Pace, Nancy, and the farmers weren�t fooling. Given time, they would win. But in a suddenly deserted town, anything might happen to the store or to Nancy.

Pace tried to keep from running as he headed back toward the store. He slipped inside as he heard a muffled scream. He grabbed a brace of revolvers from the rack behind the counter and cursed the moment lost in loading them in the dark.

A door opened and closed. The shadow of a man moved. Coal oil splashed, spreading its pungent odor into the store. Pace laid the second revolver down quietly, not having time to load it. The shadowy man struck a match. Pace recognized the heavy bush of red beard.

�Hold it!�

Instead of obeying, Jack Penick dropped the blazing match and grabbed for his gun. Pace fired. Penick choked and fell. Flames were already racing over the pool of coal oil. Pace vaulted the counter, dragged the man away. From the bullet crease along the temple, Penick would not be conscious for quite awhile. Pace shoved Penick through the front door; then skirted the spreading fire toward the living quarters in back.

He saw Nancy pulling herself to her feet with the aid of a chair in the middle of the room. �Alec Searcy, Pace,� she said. �The shot warned him. It gave me a chance to break away, and he lunged outside. Watch it, Pace, he�ll shoot you in the back!�

He slid through the rear door. A gun went off almost in his face. The bullet sang by his ear. He fired back and saw Alec Searcy break from the corner of the building. Pace held the trigger and began fanning the gun. He was shouting crazy words without realizing it.

His knees went limp as he saw Searcy stumble and fall. He walked over to Searcy, who was whistling breath out through a hole in his chest. Searcy had dropped his gun and was trying to crawl toward it. Pace kicked the gun away.

He stood looking down on the fallen man, moonlight giving his face an icy look. �You weren�t above burning out a girl, Searcy, risking the chance of killing her. Now you�re dying. Do one decent thing. Who hired you?�

�Oliver Frady,� Searcy said after a moment.

�He wants the land?�

�Yes. Trip to Denver. He found the railroad�s figuring to come this way. Made a deal with one of the officials to deliver the land in one lump, cheaper than the road could buy it piecemeal from the farmers. In return the official promised to use his power to give Frady time. Official crooked gent...�

�Thanks, Searcy.�

But the man had stopped breathing.

Pace moved down alongside the building. He reached the front of the saloon, eeled through the door. The saloon appeared to be empty. Then Pace heard a sound behind the bar and knew it was Frady, warned by the shooting across the street.

�Frady,� Pace said. �You�re going to help fight some fire � with this gun on you every minute. And you�re paying for every dime damage she�s suffered.�

When the posse returned with a bedraggled prisoner in tow, they found a girl and a Texan standing guard over a smoke-blackened, blistered saloon owner who slumped on the edge of the boardwalk, face in hands, sobbing for breath, one gunman, dead, and a second hired hoodlum moaning with a bullet crease along his scalp.

Sheriff Bigby dismounted. Gar Tester-man slid off his mount beside him. The two men approached him, coming along the boardwalk.

�Looks like you been right busy here,� Testerman said. �We got the skunk that sneaked on the Bar-J payroll.�

�And we got the one who had him do it,� Pace said. �You�d better screen your hands. Frady might have found it convenient to slip several in here and there. A prime way of keeping them close to call and point suspicion the other way in case they were caught.�

�We�ll do that,� Testerman said. He started to turn away, then paused. �I tried for twenty-one and busted the hand.�

Pace watched the posse gather in its fresh prisoners and move down the street. The night was quiet, studded with stars.

A soft voice touched the night with added beauty: �You�re wonderful, Texas.�

�No � not so much so,� he said. His limbs felt suddenly heavy, his throat dry. �You had your secret. I got mine. You don�t think I came here by accident, do you? I was a little young, fiddle-footed, and crazy once myself, like Kyle Dinsmore. I thought it was high adventure to smuggle some \vet cattle across the border, but the Feds waiting on this side didn�t agree. I had to share their opinion when I had time to think it over � in company with Kyle Dinsmore.

�He wanted me to tell you he�s fine, Nancy. And he is. Fine as they come. He saved my life in a prison riot once. So you see, a beating couldn�t drive me away when I promised him I�d look in on you when I was released. He suspected things were tough, even though you did try to keep your letters cheerful.�

He touched lips that felt parched with his tongue. �Well, I guess that�s it, Nancy.�

He started to turn away; then she spoke, and he turned back, and she was suddenly in his arms.

She had said only one word: �Texas!� But the way she�d said it told him all he needed to know.