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Circle S cows yesterday morning, early.” Forster started visibly. “You thought you’d got away with it, but I have eyes. Looks bad, doesn’t it?”
    Forster’s face showed that it looked bad to him, too. He looked Malloy straight in the eye and said: “I don’t know what you’re talking about, marshal.”
    The lawman made a noise that could have been a chuckle, but which sounded like a faint explosion.
    â€œYou’d better, Forster, or I’ll have your hide,” he said. “My advice to you is: Get out of town. Fast.”
    He turned and walked out of the room.
    Forster listened till his footsteps had died, then he finished dressing hurriedly, strapped on his gun and also left the hotel. But he left by the rear entrance.

Chapter 6
    Forster’s mind was busy as he walked through the backlots. The walk did him good; it enabled him to clear his mind and to decide what to do. First things first. McAllister had to be stopped. That should not be difficult, for he was only one man. One thing was clear: he could not be killed. If he was, Forster would have Malloy to contend with. For a moment, Forster was tempted to take the man well out of town and kill him on the prairie. No, he would maim McAllister so that he would be stopped from his immediate intention. Forster smiled. He had men who could do that admirably.
    He found Dice Grotten in a shack on the outskirts of town down near the creek. Dice was a man who could be trusted. He was no fool, but he was a simple man in that he gave his loyalty to one man and stuck to it. He gave his to Forster. They had been in the Union army together during the war between the states. They had belonged to a New England regiment; Forster had served first as a lieutenant and then as a captain, while Grotten had been a sergeant, a sober disciplinarian and a brave soldier. He had fought because he had abhorred slavery. He had always been a great reader and he was reading now as Forster entered the cabin, steel-rimmed spectacles perched on his blunt nose and a book propped up on the table near the lamp. The book was Milton’s
Paradise Regained
. Grotten was absorbed in it and looked a little annoyed at being interrupted. But his frown cleared when he saw that the new arrival was Forster.
    â€œHello, captain.”
    â€œHello, Dice.”
    Forster drew a chair up to the table.
    â€œWhere’re the boys?” he asked.
    â€œSpending their money as fast as they can on drink and women I suppose,” was the growled reply. “You look like you saw a ghost. What happened?”
    â€œHad a visit from Malloy.”
    â€œMalloy?” A little alarm touched Grotten’s heavy face.
    Forster nodded. “He told me there’s a man in town who wants to kill me.”
    The alarm faded from Grotten’s face. He looked pensive.
    â€œKnow his name?” he asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen we can settle his hash,” Grotten said steadily.
    â€œI’m sure you can. His name’s McAllister and he’s at the Dowling House on Garrett. Know it?”
    â€œSure. Say, what’s his given name?”
    â€œRemington.”
    The frown returned to Grotten’s face.
    â€œYou mean old Chad McAllister’s boy?” he demanded.
    â€œYou know him?”
    â€œHeard of him. Didn’t you hear talk of the feller that went into Comanche country and took out that Texas woman? Went right into their camp and took her from under their noses.”
    â€œI never heard it.”
    â€œIf it’s him, he’s a real heller.”
    Forster smiled so that he showed his strong white teeth and said: “Bring him down here for me, Dice, and we’ll see how much of a heller he is.”
    Grotten closed his book carefully and put it on one of the several bunks that were built around the walls of the shack. He took off his spectacles and put them carefully on a shelf. Then he put on his jacket and thrust a pistol