The Law of the Trigger by Clifton Adams

hand!”
    Frowning thoughtfully, Owen helped him lift the girl from the travois, and they carried her between them into the house. Elizabeth had the bed ready in the boys' room and they laid her down as gently as they could.
    “If you've got some whisky,” said the hard-faced boy, “maybe you could pour some over the wound.”
    “Too late for that,” Owen said, taking off the belt and blood-soaked bandage. “Elizabeth, get some blankets, all we have, and cover her up. She'll be going into chills soon.” He glanced up at the young man. “What's your name?”
    He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Dunc Lester.”
    “When was this girl shot, Dunc?”
    He frowned. “About this time yesterday, I guess.”
    Owen wiped his forehead on his sleeve, holding his curiosity with a heavy hand. “I see. The wound doesn't look too serious, but she's lost a lot of blood. She'd better have a doctor.”
    Dunc thought about this, saying nothing.
    “What kind of condition is your horse in?” Owen asked.
    “It's an Indian horse; it'll run till it drops dead. That won't be for a while yet.” When Owen turned to leave the room, Dunc said sharply, “Wait a minute, mister. You aimin' to use my horse to get a doctor?”
    “I don't have a saddle animal of my own.” Then he added with elaborate casualness, “Of course, you could make the trip to Reunion as well as I could.”
    “No!” Anger and confusion showed on his face. “I mean, I guess you know the trail better than me. You sure she has to have a doctor?”
    “If you want her to live.”
    Dunc swore harshly under his breath, then glanced sharply at Elizabeth and murmured, “Pardon me, ma'am. But I don't know what to do. I just don't know!”
    The two Stanley boys, jumping with curiosity, had come through the back door and were now looking in through the parlor doorway. “Marshal,” Bruce blurted, “my pa's got a saddle horse you could use.”
    Dunc Lester wheeled as though he had been struck from behind, glaring at the two boys. Owen did not miss this animal-like reaction, but he merely said, “Thank you, Bruce, but I think we can do with Mr. Lester's animal. Now you boys better go.”
    Dunc wheeled back on Owen, his eyes dangerously narrow. “That kid called you 'Marshal'!”
    “I used to work for the government,” Owen said easily. “That was five years ago.”
    He left the boy standing there and went to the other bedroom, where his wife was taking bright patchwork quilts from a cedar chest. Elizabeth looked up, frankly worried. “Owen, must you go after the doctor?”
    He nodded.
    “But why can't he go?” Suddenly she flung her arms around her husband and held him hard against her. “Owen, I don't want to be left alone here with him, just me and the children!”
    He held her to him, speaking softly and gently, as he often spoke to Lonnie when the boy was frightened. “You and the children will be safe. I wouldn't leave you here if I wasn't sure of that.”
    “But he's so hard!” Elizabeth protested. “Owen, is he an outlaw? Is he one of the Brunner gang?”
    Owen wanted desperately to comfort her, but he could not lie to her. “I'm not sure,” he said at last. “Perhaps he is an outlaw-I don't know. But I do know how he feels about that girl in the other room. He won't hurt you or the children because he knows we're doing our best to help the girl.”
    “How can you be so sure?”
    “Because I am sure.” He smiled faintly and released her slowly from the strong circle of his arms. “Don't worry. I'll be back sometime tonight.”
    Dunc came outside as Owen was tightening the cinch on the bay. “Just one thing, Marshal,” he said. “Don't come back with anybody but the doctor.”
    Owen looked at him. “All right.”
    “And don't say anything to anybody.” Owen nodded.
    “In case you decide to bring back some law, you'd better think a long time about your wife and children.”
    Owen felt the heat of unreasonable anger in his throat. He wheeled