``We'll do it another way, then,'' he said harshly.

Jess's coarse features twisted in a surprised grin which was smashed out of shape by Curt's fist. With a roar of pain and fury Jess made his attack.

Curt managed to duck beneath the man's flailing fist, and drove home a solid left to Jess's mid section. It was like hitting a sack of salt. Pain shout up Curt's arm clear to the shoulder, but Jess seemed hardly aware that he had been hit. He slammed into the wall, bounced back, and caught Curt with a roundhouse right which sent him spinning. An inch lower and it would have knocked him out. As it was, his vision blurred and for a moment he was unable to move. When his eyes began to focus, he saw Jess charging at him with a pitchfork.

Curt twisted to one side, and the tines of the fork bit into the floor. Jess wasted a few seconds trying to yank them loose. It gave Curt time to stagger to his feet.

The tines broke off under Jess's twisting, and he swung the handle in an attempt to knock Curt's brains out. His aim was hurried; so the pitchfork whistled over Curt's head.

By now Curt was seeing clearly again. He stepped inside Jess's guard and landed two blows to the big man's belly, putting everything he had behind them. They made Jess double over. When his head came down, Curt grabbed him by the hair and catapulted him head first into the wall.

The building shook, setting the lantern to swaying, and the buckskin to pitching again. Even Black's old crowbait began to snort, and from the house Black yelled, ``Jess! What's going on out there?''