window, saw that the sweep by the stream was filling
with a sullen concourse of men; he saw their faces,
grim and resentful, turned toward the house; the
sun struck upon the dusty, black expanse of their
hats.

He walked deliberately through the bedroom and
out upon the porch. A sudden, profound silence
met his appearance, a shifting of feet, a concerted,
bald, inimical stare.

"Well?" Gordon Makimmon demanded; "you've
read the _Bugle_, well?"

He heard a murmur from the back of the throng,

"Give it to him, we didn't come here to talk."

"'Give it to him,'" Gordon repeated thinly. "I
see Ben Nickles there, behind that hulk from the
South Fork; Nickles'll do it and glad. It will wipe
off the two hundred dollars he had out of me for a
new roof. Or there's Entriken if Nickles is afraid,
his note falls due again soon."

"What about the railroad?"

"What about it? Greenstream's been settled for
eighty years, why haven't you moved around and got
one? Do you expect the President of the Tennessee
and Northern to come up and beg you to let them
lay tracks to your doors? If you'd been men you'd
had one long ago, but you're just -- just stock. I'd
rather be an outlaw on the mountain than any of
you; I'd ruther be what you think I am; by God!"

[[345]]

p344 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p345w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p346

v?