WILLIAM 
 
 PATTERSON 
 
 WHITE 
 
LYNCH LAWYERS 
 
Iftoveis bs 
 WILLIAM PATTERSON WHITE 
 
 THE OWNER OF THE LAZY D 
 LYNCH LAWYERS 
 
Half deafened and coughing in the smoke, Red Kane wrenched the 
 
 Winchester from the hands of Dot Lorimer. FRONTISPIECE. 
 
 Seepage 118. 
 
LYNCH LAWYERS 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM PATTERSON WHITE 
 
 WITH FRONTISPIECE BY 
 
 ANTON OTTO FISCHER 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 1920 
 
Copyright, 1920, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published January, 1920 
 Reprinted January, 1920 (twice) 
 
 Set up and electrotyped by J. S. Gushing Co., 
 Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 
 

 TO MY COUSIN 
 LAURA ELLMAKER WALLER 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I RED KANE S BOREDOM ...... i 
 
 II THE MORNING AFTER 6 
 
 III THE SUDDEN LADY . . . . < . . . 13 
 
 IV THE NESTER . . , . 24 
 
 V THE COTTONWOOD . . , .... . 35 
 
 VI JUDGE LYNCH ; . ; . . 43 
 
 VII PUBLIC OPINION ... . . r . . 54 
 
 VIII THE BROKEN KNIFE . . . . . . 61 
 
 IX LANPHER . . . . .... .71 
 
 X "HEY, BOYS, UP Go WE! " . * . ... 79 
 
 XI THE WARNING . . . ... . 86 
 
 XII A WILD TIME . . ...... 99 
 
 XIII THE DARK PLACES . . .106 
 
 XIV THE STRANGER .125 
 
 XV RECOVERY 136 
 
 XVI THIN ICE 145 
 
 XVII THINNER ICE 152 
 
 XVIII AN ACCIDENT? 164 
 
 XIX "RIDIN EM" 172 
 
 XX LUMLEY S LAUGH .187 
 
 XXI A POINT OF LAW 197 
 
 XXII THE BAR S 208 
 
 XXIII THE CALABOOSE 222 
 
 XXIV ONE DOWN 234 
 
 XXV THE SHOT 243 
 
 XXVI ROCK COUNTY MEN .... 252 
 
Vlll 
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XXVII SMOOTHER THAN BUTTER 
 
 XXVIII A CHECK .... 
 
 XXIX THE STAIN 
 
 XXX THE UNEXPECTED . 
 
 XXXI THE DUST CLOUD . 
 
 XXXII A PLEASANT EVENING . 
 
 XXXIII SKINNER is REASONED WITH 
 
 XXXIV THE REAPER . 
 XXXV THE BARGAIN . 
 
 XXXVI THE HEARING . 
 
 PAGE 
 269 
 
 282 
 293 
 305 
 319 
 
 333 
 34i 
 347 
 356 
 368 
 
LYNCH LAWYERS 
 
LYNCH LAWYERS 
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 RED KANE S BOREDOM 
 
 " WHY," mourned " Red " Kane, " why don t some- 
 thin ever happen?" 
 
 " Knock wood quick," urged " Kansas " Casey, the 
 deputy sheriff, " or somethin ll happen to you maybe." 
 
 "Huh!" snorted Red Kane the skeptic, "I wouldn t 
 mind. Any thin for a change. A earthquake, or, if 
 you d have a fit even, it d help. I ain t particular. 
 Djever have fits, Kansas? " he added hopefully. 
 
 " Shore I never," denied the indignant Kansas. " You 
 talk like I was a cat or somethin ." 
 
 " Yuh might be somethin lots worse. Cats ! Why, 
 Kansas, cats is real people an wide between the eyes. 
 I dunno but what cats is most as sensible as mules." 
 
 " Well, I ain t no cat, an don t you forget it ! " Ca 
 sey s grin belied his tone. 
 
 " Alia same, I wish somethin d happen." Red Kane 
 was not losing sight of the main issue. 
 
 " Why don t yuh get drunk ? " suggested Kansas. 
 
 " Don t wanna get drunk. Dunno why, neither. 
 Sfunny." 
 
 " Must a got religion like Tommy Mull up at Cutter. 
 But Tommy jumped in again with a splash that near 
 drownded him, an so will you. They all do." 
 
 " I guess. I m only a poor weak vessel full o sin an 
 
Lynch Lawyers 
 
 the devil s works like I heard a helldodger say once at 
 camp-meetin when I was a kid back East in Arkansaw. 
 Scared me green, them words did, till my pap told me 
 how that was only the preacher s way o callin me a hu 
 man being. Lordy, I wish I was back in Tom s Landing. 
 There d be a dog fight or a steamboat takin on freight or 
 somethin . An a swim ! A feller could take a swim, a 
 real shore-nough swim in twenty foot o water. Twenty 
 foot o cool water, Kansas." 
 
 " Shut up ! " begged the deputy. " The sweat s run- 
 nin down the back o my neck; that thermometer out 
 front says ninety-five in the shade, an they ain t no swim- 
 min water inside o fifteen mile. A swim ! " 
 
 " Yessir, a swim," persisted Red Kane, his eyes shin 
 ing at the memory, " an a float while yuh go driftin 
 down the current with the afternoon sun a-slantin down, 
 an the Mississippi shore all blue an hazy way off yonder, 
 an no sound but the water lappin when yuh wiggle yore 
 toes or maybe a steamboat whistle now an then. 
 Wouldn t that make yuh chew cotton, huh? I m askin 
 yuh, wouldn t it?" 
 
 " Shut up, I m tellin yuh. She s only one o clock, an 
 gettin hotter by the minute." 
 
 " All of which ain t got a thing to do with Farewell s 
 bein dead an buried. I might s well stayed at the ranch 
 an let the Kid s Twin come. He wanted to, an , cause 
 he wanted to, I wanted to like a fool an we matched 
 a dollar, an I won I mean I lost." 
 
 Red Kane listlessly pulled the makings from a vest 
 pocket and constructed a cigarette without haste and with 
 a great deal of care. 
 
 The two men were sitting in the shade of the wide eaves 
 of Dolan s warehouse. Through the open window of 
 the dance-hall next door they could hear the voices of 
 the bartender and one of the girls uplifted in a dreary 
 wrangling. 
 
Red Kane s Boredom 3 
 
 " If it wasn t so hot, I d bend this bottle over yore 
 head ! " the girl declared plaintively. 
 
 The bartender mumbled something. The girl came to 
 the doorway and stood looking out into the street. 
 Within the hotel corral a mule brayed a bray without 
 spirit, a bray that broke off in the middle. 
 
 " Gawd," murmured the girl, slatting the sweat from 
 her forehead with plump fingers, " it s too hot even for 
 the mule." 
 
 She stared heavily at Casey and Kane, achieved a bo 
 vine wink and withdrew, her slippers slipslopping across 
 the dance-hall floor. 
 
 " She shore feels the heat, too," chuckled Kansas 
 Casey. 
 
 Kane nodded and inhaled deeply. He was hot and 
 becoming hotter. Nevertheless, his desire for action of 
 some sort remained acute. Which desire was destined 
 to be divertingly gratified much sooner than he expected. 
 
 The northbound stage, pulling in with mail, two pas 
 sengers and the Wells Fargo box, broke the front axle 
 directly opposite the Canton Restaurant. The Wells 
 Fargo guard and the driver shot from the seat and 
 sprawled upon the horses. The wretched passengers 
 smote the interior of the coach with noses and knees. At 
 the slithering impact of the guard s and driver s bodies 
 upon their skittish backs the horses ran away. 
 
 The guard fell between the wheels and came out, 
 barked and bruised but otherwise undamaged, under the 
 rear axle. The driver, hanging to his reins, straddled 
 the pole and strove to regain control of his tearing team. 
 The customers of the Happy Heart saloon rushed out to 
 see the fun. Then they rushed in again with equal 
 promptitude and gained safety a short jump ahead of the 
 careering stage, which mounted the sidewalk and fairly 
 clipped the saloon s doorsill. All the cow-ponies attached 
 to the hitching-rail ran away, and in all directions, too. 
 
Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Mrs. Jackson, a nervous person, in sticking her head 
 out of her kitchen window, knocked away the supporting 
 stick and was held in the position of a guillotined victim 
 of the French Revolution by the descending sash. The 
 unhappy lady at once began to scream like a lost soul, for 
 the window had jammed and she could not release herself. 
 
 The stage and its horses poured through Mrs. Jack 
 son s tiny truck garden, upset the wash-bench and two tubs 
 of water, swung around the house and back into the 
 street, where the stage struck the Bar S buckboard and 
 smashed the buckboard s hind wheels to splinters. Here 
 the stage was joined by at least twenty- four dogs, which 
 proceeded to further enliven the frantic horses by furious 
 barking and sundry nips judiciously delivered. All this 
 in the midst of a swirling fog of golden dust. 
 
 At the crash of the collision with the buckboard the 
 stage s two passengers contrived to open a door and 
 jump. The stage was making excellent time at the mo 
 ment. The two passengers came to earth in a tangle, 
 rolled over and over in their own little dust cloud and 
 brought up against a snapped post. 
 
 The runaways had not lost their enthusiasm. Leav 
 ing the remains of the buckboard, they wheeled and bore 
 straight down the middle of the street till the stage locked 
 wheels with a freight wagon. The freight wagon was 
 strongly built and it stood up under the shock. So did 
 not the stage. The king-pin snapped, the body of the 
 stage parted company with the front axle, and the six 
 horses, freed of all encumbrance save their harness and 
 the pole, got into racing stride in a breath. 
 
 At the edge of the town they were halted by a quick 
 witted puncher who whirled his rope, forefooted a leader 
 and piled up the whole outfit in a heap. Incidentally, 
 the driver, who had stuck to his duty to the last, almost 
 had his brains dashed out by the madly flickering heels 
 before he could crawl clear. 
 
Red Kane s Boredom 5 
 
 The driver, " Whisky Jim ", sat up and swore with 
 great feeling. The Wells Fargo guard limped up and 
 rescued the express box. The puncher freed his rope and 
 coiled it. Willing spectators held the horses. 
 
 Red Kane and Kansas Casey had not moved during all 
 this tumult and uproar. Now Casey drew a long breath. 
 
 " There," said the deputy, " just see what yuh done, 
 wishin for excitement : them drunkards in the Happy 
 Heart nigh lost a year s growth, the stage almost natur 
 ally ruined, an Mis Jackson like to choke if Piney 
 don t get that window up. There, he s got it up. An* 
 yore buckboard looks s if it s gone shy a wheel or some- 
 thin ." 
 
 " She s gone shy two wheels an the whole hind end," 
 supplemented Red Kane, his gray eyes glistening, his 
 tone manifesting less sorrow than it might have, "an Old 
 Salt will just about go crazy. Won t he rare an tear? 
 Oh, no, he won t. He ll sue the stage company, that s 
 what he will. Lucky them mules was in gettin shod. 
 Now I gotta stay here till Piney can mend the buckboard. 
 Maybe somethin else ll happen. C mon, Kansas, le s ir 
 rigate. I m a heap livened up now." 
 
 On their way to the saloon they saw the guard and 
 Buck Saylor, the Wells Fargo agent, carrying the express 
 box into the company s office. 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 THE MORNING AFTER 
 
 RED KANE rose early in the morning. He wished to 
 see Mr. Piney Jackson, the town blacksmith, start to work 
 on the buckboard. Not that Jackson was an unwilling 
 worker, but, like many another man of his kind, Piney 
 labored the better for being watched. 
 
 Red Kane, stretching and yawning in the street in front 
 of Bill Lainey s hotel, chanced to glance past the front of 
 the Starlight Saloon and catch a glimpse of the side door 
 of the express office. It was a brief glimpse, but it 
 showed him that the door was open. Within the office 
 part of a booted leg and foot, heel on the floor and toes 
 up, was visible. Was that a bandage round the ankle? 
 Was it? 
 
 Red Kane diagonally crossed the sidewalk in the direc 
 tion of the express office. He hurried. Scuffling in at 
 the door he found that what he had taken for a bandage 
 was a rope and that it tied together the ankles of " Buck " 
 Say lor, the express agent. More of that same rope was 
 passed round Saylor s wrists, and there was still enough 
 left to go twice between Saylor s open jaws, encircle his 
 head and finish up in a neat, tight knot beneath Saylor s 
 occipital bone. The agent s eyes batted and rolled. He 
 made queer noises in his throat. 
 
 " Lordy ! " exclaimed Red Kane and dropped on his 
 knees and pushed the blade of his clasp-knife in between 
 Saylor s bound wrists. 
 
 When Say lor was free, he sat up jerkily and spoke 
 
The Morning After 7 
 
 after the manner of one who has a hot potato in his 
 mouth, for his jaws were very raw and sore. 
 
 " They got the safe an the express box ! " were the 
 agent s first words. 
 
 Red Kane looked sidewise. The company safe was 
 not in its accustomed corner. Nor was the box from the 
 wrecked stage visible. Red Kane nodded and sat down 
 comfortably on the edge of the agent s cot. 
 
 " Yeah," said Red Kane, " g on." 
 
 " My Gawd ! " moaned Buck Saylor, holding his head 
 in his hands and weaving his body to and fro. " My 
 Gawd! Fifty thousand dollars in cash! " 
 
 " Huh ! " Red Kane s sagging backbone straightened 
 with a snap. 
 
 " Fifty thousand in gold," reiterated the mishandled 
 agent. " Forty thousand in the box for the new bank in 
 the Bend an ten thousand consigned to Lanpher o the 
 88!" 
 
 " Insured? " asked Red Kane. 
 
 The agent shook his head. 
 
 " Ha ! Ha ! " barked the puncher sardonically. 
 " Lanpher will shore lose his mind ! He don t care no 
 more for sixbits than he does for his right eye ! " He 
 broke off, perceiving that the agent failed to grasp the 
 point of the joke. " Fifty thousand, Buck," he went on 
 as soothingly as possible ; " that s a fright, shore. What 
 yuh gonna do about it? " 
 
 " They took the safe ! " repeated the agent. " They 
 took the safe ! " 
 
 Then and not till then did Red Kane realize the true 
 inwardness of the agent s remark. For the Wells Fargo 
 safe weighed a good fifteen hundred pounds. The re 
 moval of the safe was a deal more astonishing than the 
 robbery. Kane s eyes widened. 
 
 " She s a wonder they didn t take the whole office while 
 they was about it. Where was you ? " 
 
8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 "Right here. Where d yuh guess I d be? Say " 
 Here the agent s somewhat scattered wits returned to the 
 fold " we gotta get after em. I gotta roust out Kan 
 sas. I wish Jake was here." 
 
 " I ll get Kansas," said Red Kane, and he departed on 
 the run. 
 
 He returned breathless in five minutes with the deputy. 
 The agent demanded that the robbers be pursued forth 
 with. 
 
 " Plenty o time," countered Kansas. "If they was 
 bright enough to hop in an hop out with a safe weighin 
 as much as two ponies, they re bright enough not to hang 
 around where we can pounce down on em. Tell me all 
 of it, Buck. Then maybe we ll know where we stand. 
 Didn t yuh hear nobody breakin in ? You didn t let em 
 in, did yuh ? " 
 
 "Let em in? Of course I didn t let em in! What 
 yuh guess? But it was so hot I left the side door open. 
 My dogs was out exercisin round, an I was a-settin here 
 on my bed waitin for em to come in, an I guess I must 
 a drowsed off." 
 
 " I guess maybe," put in Kansas. " What next? " 
 
 " Next I was bein tied like Red found me. I thrashed 
 round, but they had me tight. I couldn t do nothin . 
 Couldn t even squeak. They had the rope in my mouth 
 first thing, o course. An everythin was done in the 
 dark." 
 
 " How many was they ? Yuh must have some li l 
 idea, even if yuh couldn t see nothin ." 
 
 Three four men maybe. I ain t shore. Seems 
 like they was a dozen, but o course they couldn t have 
 been so many." 
 
 " Did they say anythin ? " 
 
 " Nothin I could hear cept once. They mostly mut 
 tered low. I didn t know their voices." 
 
 " What did they say that once? " 
 
The Morning After 9 
 
 " Here s a express box/ says one. Take it along/ 
 says another. They s maybe somethin in it/ 
 
 " They didn t know about that shipment o forty thou 
 sand to the Bend/ declared Kansas Casey. " Lanpher s 
 money was all they knowed about, an that extra forty 
 was pure velvet. You couldn t swear to neither o them 
 voices, Buck, huh ? Shore ? " 
 
 " Shore. I d never heard em before/ 
 
 " Three men anyway, yuh say ? " 
 
 " Yep. Now, for Gawd s sake, Kansas, do something 
 will yuh? Yuh ve heard all I can tell yuh, an " 
 
 " Yeah, I m paid to do somethin ," interrupted Kansas, 
 staring levelly at Buck Saylor. " I ll do my job, don t 
 yuh fret. Habit I got. Le s go out an see how they got 
 the safe away." 
 
 By the marks on the earth without it was evident that 
 the midnight marauders had eased the safe along by tip 
 ping it end over end. 
 
 " She must a made a jounce each time she dropped/ 
 observed Red Kane. 
 
 " She didn t make much of a noise," said the agent. 
 " Leastwise all I could hear was li l bumps like." 
 
 " You must be gettin deef," Kansas assured him. 
 
 Behind the corrals, where the marks of crowbars and 
 bootheels ended in a maze of tracks and scars and gouges, 
 the express agent managed to vindicate his maligned sense 
 of hearing. 
 
 " There," he announced, excitedly pointing his ringer, 
 " look at that mattress ! That s why I didn t hear much. 
 They dropped her on that mattress each time. I told yuh 
 they was a heap silent." 
 
 " A heap silent ! " cried Kansas Casey scornfully, 
 pointing to the wheeltracks of a freight wagon. " A 
 heap silent! Look at them wagontracks! Why, they 
 musta made noise enough to wake Julius Caesar. I m 
 surprised the town s still here. Dunno why they didn t 
 
i o Lynch Lawyers 
 
 take you too, Buck. Yore head would make em a good 
 paperweight." 
 
 " How could I know what was gonna happen? " pro 
 tested the indignant Buck Say lor. " My dogs wasn t 
 around." 
 
 Came then Tom Kane, Red Kane s brother and a citizen 
 of Farewell engaged in the freighting business. Tom 
 Kane was manifestly perturbed to a degree. 
 
 "My wagon s gone!" he declared. "Likewise the 
 marshal s pet ridin hoss an a team o my mules. What 
 you laughin at? " he added angrily to his brother. 
 
 * You," grinned Red, " an them midnight magruders. 
 Which they are shore the most enterprisin active gents I 
 ever have the luck to hear tell of. Yessir." 
 
 " Yo re a fool ! " snapped Tom Kane in proper broth 
 erly fashion. 
 
 " Well, anyway, I got sense enough to hang onto what s 
 mine," returned Red Kane. 
 
 "Yeah," said Tom unpleasantly, "yeah. If yo re so 
 able to hang onto what s yores, where s yore team o 
 mules gone ? " 
 
 " What ! " cried Red. " Ain t they in the corral with 
 yore other teams ? " 
 
 " They ain t, y bet yuh. Only my other teams there. 
 Yore mules is vanished plumb away. Yore li l black hoss 
 is missin , too." 
 
 Tom Kane smacked his lips with relish as he gazed 
 at his brother. Red began to swear. He heatedly cursed 
 the robbers and their immediate ancestors as he hitched 
 up his chaps and started off in the direction of his 
 brother s corral. 
 
 " I m gonna borrow one o yore hosses," he flung back 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 " Help yoreself ," Tom called after him. " Take Jack 
 Owens saddle. She s hangin inside the front door." 
 
 " Guess we ve done learned all we need here," said the 
 
The Morning After 1 1 
 
 methodical Kansas. " Might as well scare up a posse now 
 an do a li l trailin ." 
 
 They had no need to scare up a posse. Every Farewell 
 citizen, on hearing the news, reached for his Winchester, 
 scooped up saddle and bridle and headed for his horse. 
 
 Within fifteen minutes Kansas Casey was riding the 
 wagon-track trail. With him galloped the two Kanes, 
 Buck Say lor and twenty other men. Other of Farewell s 
 inhabitants, slower in the uptake, followed by twos and 
 threes. 
 
 They followed the tracks eastward a distance of more 
 than five miles. Riding through a draw, they came sud 
 denly upon the freight wagon, its pole propped and tidily 
 harness-hung, standing between two tall spruce trees. 
 Beyond the wagon, where the draw, widening round a 
 spring, formed a basin filled with lush grass, grazed four 
 hobbled mules. Of the marshal s pet riding horse and 
 Red Kane s black pony there were no signs. 
 
 l They shore was thoughtful devils," Red Kane ob 
 served, nodding toward the hobbled mules and the wagon. 
 " Tom himself couldn t a took more care o that harness, 
 an they might a left them mules run loose." 
 
 " Yuh d oughta be grateful," chuckled Piney Jackson. 
 
 " I am. Oh, yes, shore I am, an then a li l, on top o 
 that. Bet I never see my black cay use again." 
 
 Red had reason to be pessimistic. The black was an 
 excellent horse ; speedy, good wind and bottom and an ex 
 traordinarily easy keeper. The thieves had lifted a prize 
 and doubtless knew it by this time. 
 
 "Where s the safe? That s what I d like to know." 
 Thus Buck Saylor, staring about him. 
 
 " Here she is ! " replied Kansas Casey, craning his neck 
 to see over a willowbush. 
 
 The horsemen crowded up. There was the Wells 
 Fargo safe, right side up and yawningly empty. The 
 door, hinges wrenched crookedly and snapped across, lay 
 
12 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 front downward on the crushed grass. An acrid odor 
 hung about the safe. 
 
 " Giant," averred Red Kane, sniffing. 
 
 " Shore," said Dolan, a storekeeper and the local jus 
 tice. " Likely they was miners." 
 
 " Miners ain t the only folks know how to use blastin 
 powder," declared Red. " It might a been anybody." 
 
 " It probably was," Dolan said dryly. " I wonder 
 where the box is." 
 
 They poked about among the bushes and came at last 
 upon the express box, smashed open and as empty as the 
 safe, near the spring. Stuck in a crack of the splintered 
 lid was a folded bit of paper. Red Kane was the first 
 to reach the paper. He spread out and smoothed it 
 against the swell fork of his saddle, the others jostling 
 each other to read over his shoulders the few lines of 
 pencilled printing that sprawled waveringly across the 
 gray and grimy surface. The wording ran : 
 
 hope you had a goode ride thanks for the money we didn t expect 
 so much you ll notice we tuk goode care of your mules an harness we 
 needed your two hosses so we ll take em with us we ll come again 
 sometime goodby. 
 
 " An there you are," said Red Kane, handing the 
 paper to Kansas Casey. " All we gotta do is wait till 
 they come again." 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 
 THE SUDDEN LADY 
 
 IT would seem that the men of Farewell were destined 
 to wait even as Red Kane said, for there were no tracks, 
 at least no appreciable trail leading out of the draw. 
 Here and there were hoofmarks, but these were lost on 
 hard ground three hundred yards farther east. 
 
 " Looks like a stand-off," observed Kansas Casey. 
 " But we gotta do somethin ." 
 
 He divided the posse into pairs and groups of threes 
 and fours and sent these out in all directions to hunt 
 signs. Red Kane and his brother Tom rode together. 
 
 Late in the afternoon they sighted the old ranch-house 
 at the base of Sweetwater Mountain. 
 
 " They ain t nothin there, I guess," observed Tom 
 Kane. " Might s well swing off to the south toward the 
 gap between Sweetwater and the Sandy Hills. Maybe 
 them bandits went through there. If they went east, they 
 shore did." 
 
 " We d ought to look at that ranch-house first," de 
 murred Red. 
 
 " What for? Nobody s lived there since the K C out 
 fit sold out to the Cross-in-a-box five year ago. What sa 
 use wastin time, Red? Yo re always wantin to slide 
 off to one side. I never see such a jigger. Besides, I 
 wanta get home some time tonight." 
 
 " Now we re gettin at it," grinned Red. " It ain t so 
 much my ridin away from the line as it is yore wantin 
 to get home that bothers you, huh ? " 
 
 " Well, they s my mules an my wagon back there in 
 
1 4 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 that draw, an they s yore mules too. What ll Old Salt 
 say if anythin happens to em? I should think you d be 
 anxious about em. Most any rightminded man would 
 be. But not you. Whadda you care for other folks 
 property? Nothin , that s all. It might all get lost or 
 stole an you wouldn t bat an eye-winker." 
 
 " Aw, the mules are all right. I want my black pony. 
 She s the best cayuse in my string and the best cuttin 
 pony in the territory, bar none. You make me sick, you 
 an yore mules! You act like yore mules an yore old 
 cracker-box of a wagon was important, really worth some- 
 thin . My li l black hoss tops em by " 
 
 " Yore li l black hoss ! Yore li l black accordeen, you 
 mean. It ain t even as good as an accordeen. An ac- 
 cordeen ll play tunes, an that hoss Why, all that hoss 
 is good for is to bite folks. He bit me yes day aft noon, 
 an " 
 
 " Bit yuh, did he ? " interrupted Red in a grieved tone. 
 " I was wonderin what made him so sick last night. The 
 poor li l feller. You d oughtn t to tantalize round him 
 that way. Don t you do it no more, Tom, after I get him 
 back. I don t aim to have my hosses made dyspeptics for 
 life through bitin chunks out o you. Nawsir, I can t 
 have it, Tom, deed I can t. You be careful now an leave 
 the poor hoss be." 
 
 The stung Tom retorted profanely. Red listened ad 
 miringly. His brother s grasp of vivid utterance never 
 failed to impress him. 
 
 " That s great," approved Red when Tom paused for 
 breath. " You done better n yuh did the last time, re 
 member, when yuh fell over that box o can tomatters in 
 the dark and fetched up with yore face against the stove. 
 Mule-skinnin shore does help a gent thataway, don t it ? " 
 
 Thus the time passed profitably till they came to the old 
 K C ranch-house under Sweetwater Mountain. They ap 
 proached the place carelessly. But one look at the corral 
 
The Sudden Lady 15 
 
 brought them alive with a jerk. Horses were visible 
 through the gaps between the posts. 
 
 "What are you doin ?" 
 
 There was more than a hint of amusement in the soft 
 voice that spoke from the kitchen window of the ranch- 
 house. Both men turned swiftly in their saddles. Red, 
 at sight of the horses in the corral, had pulled his six- 
 shooter. Now, confronted by a very good-looking girl, he 
 slid the gun back into its holster and hoped she hadn t 
 seen him pull it. But she had. Her snapping black eyes 
 twinkled at him. 
 
 " I m not considered dangerous," she announced in a 
 delicious drawl, putting up a sunburnt hand to push back 
 a mop of curly black hair. " Your friend needn t 
 worry ! " she added significantly. 
 
 " He ain t my friend," apologized Red, removing his 
 hat. " He s my brother, an he ain t always accountable." 
 Here he kicked his brother on the ankle, adjuring him in 
 a fierce whisper to put away his six-shooter. 
 
 Tom, who had been as he said later, " struck all of a 
 heap " to find the old K C ranch occupied by a woman, 
 hastily bolstered his gun and wiggled an agonized ankle. 
 
 " Were you lookin for anythin ? " inquired the girl. 
 
 " No ma am, no, not a-tall," disclaimed Red Kane. 
 
 " We was just passin by," amplified Tom Kane, mean 
 while endeavoring to snatch an unobtrusive look at the 
 animals in the corral. 
 
 You don t have to twist around so and rub your ear 
 and all in order to look into the corral," the girl said 
 kindly. " Ride right up to the gate and enjoy yourself. 
 Don t mind me." 
 
 Red Kane laughed outright. Tom looked rather sour. 
 Confound the woman. She was too observing by half. 
 
 "I I they we we lost some hosses," he 
 stuttered, " an we thought maybe they might a strayed 
 over here." 
 
1 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I suppose that s why you tried to look into the corral 
 instead of asking me straight out whether I d seen them," 
 observed the girl, ceasing abruptly to twinkle. 
 
 " Oh, no, ma am, no," Tom hastened to assure her, but 
 his effort was not convincing. 
 
 The girl nodded eying him steadily. 
 
 " You don t do it well," she remarked indifferently. 
 
 " Ma am," said Red Kane, " you mustn t mind Tom. 
 He s always been the fool o the family. I m beggin 
 yore pardon for him. You see, they s been a robbery 
 over to Farewell, an fifty thousand dollars an two bosses 
 are missin . I was just wonderin if yuh d seen anybody 
 ride by this mornin or afternoon." 
 
 " Not a soul," she told him, and began again to twinkle 
 her black eyes. " I wish father was home. He might 
 have met somebody, although he didn t mention it at din 
 ner. He s out on the range now. One of our horses has 
 strayed." 
 
 " An he s huntin it," observed Tom Kane. 
 
 " He is," said the girl. " Why don t you wait till he 
 rides in ? Maybe he could help you out." 
 
 " Good idea," nodded Tom. " We will." 
 
 He dismounted, loosened cinches, watered his horse in 
 the tiny brook running from the spring behind the house 
 and made himself comfortable in the shade of a cotton- 
 wood. Red remained in the saddle. He looked after 
 his brother, whimsical disapproval written large upon 
 his countenance. 
 
 " Tom never did have no manners," he confided to 
 the girl. " Then again, he don t like ladies, Tom don t. 
 Outside o that, he s all right, if he is my brother." 
 
 " That s a strong-lookin pony," said the girl critically, 
 ignoring Red s persiflage. 
 
 " He is," nodded Red, " but he ain t nothin to my li l 
 black the bandits rustled. That was a hoss. If I ever 
 catch the sports that run him off, I ll shore make em hard 
 
The Sudden Lady 17 
 
 to find. I guess I ll just water this feller if you don t 
 mind." 
 
 He nodded to her, put on his hat, rode to the brook and 
 allowed his mount an even ten swallows. Then he rode 
 back to the kitchen. The girl had deserted the window 
 for the doorway. She stood with her arms folded across 
 the breast of her man s flannel shirt and watched him with 
 bright, alert eyes. 
 
 " You re careful of a horse," she said, smiling up at 
 him. " Ten s all I allow when they re hot, too, but 
 people as a rule don t care much. They think a cow- 
 pony ll stand anythin ." 
 
 " People are careless," he told her, dismounting and 
 crooking his arm round the saddle-horn. " Awful care 
 less. Sometimes they re careless in what they say an 
 do an hurt folks feelin s without meanin to." 
 
 She nodded. She caught his meaning perfectly. 
 
 " I don t believe you ve looked in our corral yet," said 
 she. 
 
 " I don t need to now," was his answer. 
 
 " How do you know I m not a bold, bad horse-thief ? 
 I might be. I might have stolen the fifty thousand, too. 
 You don t know. They say a nester will do anythin ." 
 
 A certain bitterness underlay her tone and words. It 
 would seem that nestering, for this curly-headed girl, had 
 not been an easy path to follow. Red Kane looked 
 straight into her black eyes. 
 
 " I never said nothin about nesters," he declared. 
 
 * You re a cow-man like all the rest. At least, I sup 
 pose you re a cow-man." 
 
 " I m a puncher all right, but I believe in livin an let- 
 tin live. She s a free country." 
 
 " Some folks seem to think differently." 
 
 " Some folks always do. Wouldn t be a human world 
 if they didn t. You got a right nice li l place here." 
 
 This was the boldest flattery, for a more dilapidated 
 
i 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 residence than the K C ranch-house would be difficult to 
 find. The roof had fallen in at one end, and every win 
 dow lacked glass. The kitchen door hung slantingly 
 from leather hinges, and the weather-worn skeleton of a 
 cow that had died of big jaw gleamed whitely through 
 the tall grass beside the kitchen chimney. 
 
 The girl looked sharply at Red. But there was no 
 sarcasm in the puncher s expression. He had merely 
 meant to be polite. 
 
 " I ll have it lookin like somethin in time," she said. 
 " Haven t had much chance yet. We only pulled in yes 
 terday. The wagons aren t all unloaded yet." 
 
 "All?" 
 
 " We ve two wagons and there s just the two of us, 
 dad and I. Funny, isn t it? " 
 
 " Funny ? Why, I dunno " 
 
 " I can tell just what you re thinkin about, Mister 
 Man. Your face is like big print. You re wonderin 
 about us. Two wagons, and nesters usually have but one 
 and a pair of three-legged crow-baits cuddlin the pole, 
 and nothin much to do with, take em all round. I won 
 der are these folks all right. That s what you re thinkin , 
 I can tell. Can t fool me." The girl threw up her chin 
 and laughed a hard mirthless laugh. " You citizens are 
 the most suspicious lot I ever saw," she continued. " You 
 think nobody has a right on earth but your own high and 
 mighty selves. He s a nester, is he? Rub him out, if it 
 can be done legally or half-legally. Run off his cattle and 
 horses, anyway. Make trouble for him till he has to pick 
 up and move again. But I guess we re here to stay, 
 Mister Man." 
 
 She stared at him defiantly. Taken aback by her out 
 burst, he essayed a feeble grin. 
 
 " I hope yuh do stay, ma am. I d be shore sorry to see 
 yuh go. I dunno why yuh think yuh won t be treated 
 right here." 
 
The Sudden Lady 19 
 
 "Do you know the 88 ranch?" she asked abruptly. 
 " We came by there, and the manager was pretty disa 
 greeable." 
 
 " Lanpher, huh ? He s that manager feller. Don t 
 yuh care what he says. He s so tight across the chest he 
 can t unbutton his vest, and he s too mean to catch cold. 
 He even hates himself, the lizard. Don t yuh think of 
 him a-tall. We don t." 
 
 " I see. Well, you can go on about your business 
 whenever you feel like it, you and your brother." 
 
 Red s surprised jaws dropped with almost an audible 
 click. 
 
 " I thought you asked us to stay till yore father got 
 home," he puzzled. 
 
 " I did. I didn t know then what I know now, and I 
 don t want you round any longer. Slide, the two- of you. 
 Go on back to Lanpher, and tell him Dot Lorimer said 
 to come himself next time." 
 
 With the words she reached behind the door and 
 brought out a Winchester and trained the firearm on Red 
 Kane s stomach. Tom Kane got hastily to his feet. 
 Red did not move. 
 
 * You by the spring," said the girl, not removing her 
 eyes from Red s amazed face, " climb on your horse and 
 wander. One wrong move and your brother gets a pill." 
 
 Red Kane hooked his thumbs over his hat. 
 
 " Ma am," he cried, " would you mind tellin me, be 
 fore I go, why you said, Go back to Lanpher ? " 
 
 " Because you re one of his men. Now " 
 
 " But I ain t. What makes yuh think I am? " 
 
 " Don t lie to me. Get aboard and get a-goin . I ve 
 fooled with you long enough. Drag it ! " 
 
 Without another word Red Kane swung up and fol 
 lowed his departing brother. 
 
 " Nice sociable lady," sputtered Tom Kane when Red 
 joined him. " You d think we was bandits or somethin . 
 
2O Lynch Lawyers 
 
 I ll bet she d a plugged yuh, Red, if yuh d wiggled yore 
 ear at her." 
 
 " Shore she would," agreed Red. " She had the old 
 cannon headed straight where my dinner s gonna be an 
 her finger on the trigger. Yessir, she s shore a jim hicky, 
 that girl." 
 
 Tom Kane caught the enthusiasm in Red s tone. 
 
 " You act like she d done somethin amusin , instead of 
 offerin to blow yore lights out." Tom s voice was a 
 raucous snarl. 
 
 "Well, they was my lights, an still are," Red said 
 equably. " I like her spirit, I do. Gimme a girl with git- 
 up-an -git to her every time." 
 
 " Yo re welcome to her This way, Red, if we re 
 goin down between Sweetwater an the Sandy Hills I 
 don t want nothin to do with her myself." 
 
 " You wouldn t stand no show with her anyhow. 
 What do you know about women ? " 
 
 "Nothin , thank Gawd, an I don t wanna, neither. I 
 got sense thataway. You go fussin round a woman, an , 
 before yuh know it, yo re in love with her, an next yuh 
 know yo re married. Then you are up a stump." 
 
 " Oh, I dunno. A feller might be a lot worse off than 
 married." 
 
 " Yeah, he might be dead." 
 
 " You dunno. You never was either." 
 
 " An I m gonna claw free o both while I got my 
 health. What do you guess made her search out her gun 
 anyway? I was watchin the pair of yuh, an I didn t see 
 you do nothin ." 
 
 " I didn t. I was just talkin to her, an all of a sudden 
 she sort o looked past me, an her eyes got hard. Next I 
 knowed she was holdin the gun on me an tellin me what 
 to do." 
 
 "Looked past yuh?" 
 
 " Shore over my shoulder like." 
 
The Sudden Lady 21 
 
 "What at?" 
 
 " How d I know by ! " Red jerked his horse to 
 a sliding halt and slid to the ground. " Look at that! " 
 he exclaimed, pointing at the name and brand carved on 
 the front of the saddle s cantle. " Jack Owens, 88. 
 This here is Jack Owens old saddle, an I never thought. 
 O course she got suspicious prompt an sudden when she 
 seen that. I dunno," he added, mounting and wheeling 
 his horse, " but what I ll go back an tell her it s all a 
 mistake." 
 
 " I would ! " cried his brother, as a puff of gray smoke 
 clouded across the kitchen doorway of the ranch-house 
 and a bullet buzzed overhead. " I shore would, if I was 
 you ! The range ain t over eight hundred yards, an the 
 next piece o lead might not flip past up yonder. It might 
 sift through yore thick head. I m tellin yuh that female 
 means business." 
 
 " Aw, she ain t to blame ! " protested Red, reluctantly 
 turning his horse s head. " Appearances is against us." 
 
 " An she s shore agreein witli appearances steady an 
 strong. There goes another." 
 
 A bullet kissed the earth twenty yards to the left, 
 struck a rock and ripped off at an acute angle with a high 
 shrill whine. 
 
 " Ain t she a jo-darter? " grinned Red, chin on shoul 
 der, looking back at the ranch-house as he jogged along. 
 
 " I dunno what she is," Tom Kane said disgustedly, 
 " but I know yo re a fool. Fore I d let a female jerk me 
 down that-away ! Why, one minute after you seen her, 
 you forgot what you was doin . You even forgot yore 
 li l black hoss. Yes, yuh did. Can t tell me yuh didn t. 
 I know better. Yuh didn t even try to look in the corral 
 after she spoke." 
 
 " I didn t need to, but I m gamblin you did." 
 
 " You better believe I did. I ain t lettin no curly hair 
 tangle up my eyesight." 
 
2 2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Yuh didn t see the rustled hosses in the corral, did 
 yuh?" 
 
 " Naturally not, or I would a said so. They was eight 
 hosses in that corral, all collar-marked. D Both Ways 
 right hip was the iron on two of em. Couldn t see the 
 others. They was headin wrong." 
 
 " Seein they was all team hosses, you was a heap dis 
 appointed, huh ? " 
 
 " I didn t say so." 
 
 " Yuh didn t have to. Yuh looked it, old sour-ball. 
 Tom, yore milk o human kindness is all addled up. 
 Sometimes I wonder can this mistrustin , fault-fmdin 
 undertaker with the face long like a pony s be my brother. 
 Yessir, that shore bothers me a lot sometimes." 
 
 " Nemmine about my milk o human kindness. I don t 
 go spillin it round promiscuous like other folks I know 
 of. N esters, an you a cow-man! " 
 
 " Not nesters, nester, frosty- face. I dunno nothin 
 against Paw Lorimer, but Miss Dot Lorimer is shore the 
 one for my money. Yessir, Tom, y ol coffee-cooler, 
 that s that li l lady I m gonna marry." 
 
 Tom gulped, gasped, ran two fingers round the inside 
 of his collar, rubbed both ears anfl shook his head vigor 
 ously. 
 
 " Somethin s gone wrong with my hearin ," he an 
 nounced after an anxious moment. " I shore thought 
 you said that nester lady was the one you was gonna 
 marry." 
 
 You heard right." Red placidly eyed his brother. 
 
 " There, I m hearin funny noises again," Tom cried in 
 alarm. 
 
 " You ain t hearin no funny noises, feller. Yo re 
 hearin the truth. I ain t surprised yuh don t know it, 
 yuh use it so seldom." 
 
 Tom ignored the slander. 
 
 " Yuh don t like her already! " he exclaimed. " Yuh 
 
The Sudden Lady 23 
 
 can t ! Why, yuh just seen her. Aw, Red, whatsa mat 
 ter with yuh ? Are yuh crazy ? " 
 
 " Yeah, I m crazy crazy like a fox. You heard me, 
 I m gonna marry that girl. She dunno it yet, but she 
 will." 
 
 " That s good. You ll tell her before yuh marry her, 
 huh? She d like to know maybe. Women are funny 
 thataway." 
 
 " An yo re tryin to be an makin a boggy ford of it. 
 Listen here, Tom, I m tellin yuh about this, but I m 
 expectin yuh to keep it behind yore front teeth, see." 
 
 " Don t yuh fret, I ain t anxious to have folks know 
 what a idjit they is in the family. Nawsir, not me. I ll 
 never tell. I ll keep it under my hat same s if it was fits 
 or web-feet." 
 
CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 THE NESTER 
 
 " WE didn t find no tracks round Sweetwater," said 
 Red reporting to Kansas Casey in the sheriff s office at 
 Farewell. " We scouted past that gap between the moun 
 tain an the Sandy Hills, too, but we didn t find one smid 
 gin of a track. Did any o the others find anythin ? " 
 
 " They did not, nary a find. She s a mystery. Here 
 we was out four days an rode our hosses down to whis 
 pers an no luck a-tall. An three days ago, while we was 
 gone, two sports held up the stage south of Injun Ridge 
 an went through the passengers." 
 
 " Kill anybody?" 
 
 " Naw, but they got five watches an about a thousand 
 dollars, which ain t a bad ten minutes work, even countin 
 in the risk." 
 
 " Who was ridin shotgun ? " 
 
 " Nobody. They wasn t carryin no box that trip. 
 An the bandits expected a box too, an give everybody 
 aboard a cussin cause she wasn t there. Looks like old 
 times shore once again." 
 
 " They s a-plenty cottonwoods," Red observed dryly, 
 " an we all got ropes." 
 
 " You ll be needin em before we re through, not that 
 I hold with lynchin , officially speakin , me bein a deputy 
 sheriff as duly made and provided, but I got my own idea 
 o what s the best cure for the road-agent business." 
 
 " Did yuh tell Kansas about the nesters ? " inquired 
 Tom Kane, looking up from his task of greasing wagon- 
 
The Nester 25 
 
 wheels as his brother scuffed round the corner of the 
 house. 
 
 " Shore not," replied Red, sitting down on a handy 
 case. " Question : What business is it o his ? Answer : 
 Why, no business a-tall. Got the makin s? " 
 
 " They re in the shack, but nemmine about no makin s 
 now. Gimme a hand with these wheels, you lazy cow- 
 wrastler, instead o sittin there a-wearin out my packin - 
 cases with the seat o yore pants. There s the wrench, 
 an there s a box of axle-dope. Hop to it, feller." 
 
 " Lordy," groaned Red, " don t I never get a chance 
 to rest?" 
 
 " Not round me yuh don t. When yuh goin back to 
 the Bar S?" 
 
 " When Piney Jackson gets the buckboard fixed. He 
 ain t got a light wheel in stock, an he s gotta make all 
 new spokes. Piney knows how to charge, too. Old 
 Salt H roar like a bull when he gets the bill. He ll make 
 out it s all my fault somehow." 
 
 " Betcha he tries to take it out o yore wages," was 
 Tom s bright suggestion. 
 
 " Tryin an doin ain t even in the same corral. Aw, 
 Old Salt s all right so long s yuh watch him." 
 
 " So s a mule. Yuh ll never screw on the nut thata- 
 way, Red. It s a left-hand thread. Don t yuh know 
 nothin ? " 
 
 In this wise the wheel-greasing proceeded to a success 
 ful close and the driven Red fled to the Blue Pigeon Store. 
 Here he found Kansas Casey deep in conversation with 
 Mike Flynn, the proprietor. 
 
 " I m feelin a heap proud to-day," Red announced, 
 grinning at the two men, " an I guess I ll buy me a shirt. 
 I always gotta buy somethin when I feel proud." 
 
 You ain t got nothin to be proud about," Kansas said 
 seriously. " Do you see anythin he s got to be proud of, 
 Mike?" 
 
26 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Wait till after I sell him his shirt," smiled the Irish 
 man. " Any partic lar kind, Red? " 
 
 " They s one yonder on the fourth shelf right behind 
 yuh looks kind o good. Yeah, that one. Them li l 
 purple hoss-shoes sprinkled all over the gray makes it look 
 a heap festive, don t it ? " 
 
 " Shore does," concurred Kansas. " All you need now 
 is a yaller han kerchief round yore neck an leave yore hat 
 off an folks will shore see sunset a-comin ." 
 
 " Nemmine about my hair. I know she s red, an that s 
 a good color, lucky too. Only the best people has red 
 hair. If yuh ll notice, they ain t so many of us, but what 
 they is is fine strain ,an corn-fed, y betcha. Lookit me 
 now. Where ll you find a better feller, take him all 
 round, huh? I m askin yuh, an yuh can t answer. No, 
 of course not." 
 
 " How strong the breeze is to-day, Mike," observed 
 Kansas. " They must be a window open some ers/ 
 
 " They is," said Red. " Several. All yuh gotta do is 
 lay back an enjoy it. She s free, all free. Yuh d oughta 
 appreciate it, stead o prancin round makin remarks. 
 Ain t that so, Mike? Nemmine, don t answer. Maybe 
 he might hold it against yuh, an go over to Galloway s 
 for his makings. How much did yuh say that shirt was ? 
 Two dollars four-bits, huh? Here y are. If she wears 
 out under a year, I ll lay for yuh an burn the store." 
 
 " Lemme know when you re comin ," Mike requested 
 serenely. " Hello, Tom." 
 
 " Lo, Mike." Tom, entering, looked hard at the news 
 paper-wrapped bundle under his brother s arm. " Bet 
 he s done one o two things, Red has he s either bought 
 one shirt or two." 
 
 " One," tattled Kansas. " Ain t he the spendthrift? " 
 
 " He s worse n that," Tom averred, fixing his brother 
 with a gloomy stare. " A shirt ! A new shirt ! It must 
 be true. He s a goner." 
 
The Nester 27 
 
 " Web-feet an fits ! Web-feet an fits ! " Red bawled 
 to head him off. 
 
 " That s what it is all right," grunted Tom, and 
 marched out, rank disapproval in every line of his stiff 
 back. 
 
 Kansas Casey seized the lobe of his right ear and 
 moved it slowly to and fro. 
 
 " You like to deefened me with yore * web-feet an 
 fits ," he told Red. " Next time you go to whirlin yore 
 voice, whirl her the other way. An what is web-feet 
 an fits anyhow ? " 
 
 " What yuh wanna know for ? Did yuh lose any ? " 
 
 At this point diversion was created by the entrance of a 
 stranger. He was a long, lean citizen, this stranger, with 
 lank black hair, sharp blue eyes and bat ears. He wore 
 two guns and an air of great alertness. 
 
 The bat-eared one leaned hip-shot against the counter 
 and nodded to Mike Flynn. 
 
 " Got any Winchester ,45 s? " he asked. 
 
 " Shore." 
 
 " I ll take four boxes o them an six for my Colts, same 
 caliber, an " 
 
 Here the bat-eared man was interrupted by a strange 
 and raucous voice squawking : 
 
 " Help ! Help ! Don t kill me ! Gimme that ax ! 
 Oh, my Gawd in heaven ! That s right ! Cut her yellow 
 throat! What you think it that feller him got? Two 
 dead men lib for beach! What s the odds! Stick her 
 again ! She stole my watch ! Murder ! Murder ! Mur 
 der! Gawd bless our home and make me a good boy! 
 Get outa here, you dirty dog! " 
 
 At the first words uttered by the raucous voice the bat- 
 eared man sprang backward a yard and drew both guns. 
 Crouching forward, his narrow-slitted eyes swept the 
 counter. Muscles in cheek and jaw quivered tensely. 
 
 Marked interest flickered in the eyes of Kansas Casey 
 
28 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 and Red Kane. They watched the bat-eared man cu 
 riously. From behind the counter Mike Flynn smiled re 
 assuringly at the bat-eared man and flung up a hand, palm 
 pacifically outward. 
 
 "If yo re gonna shoot," calmly remarked Mr. Flynn, 
 " I d take it kindly if yuh d p int them carronades out 
 doors." 
 
 The bat-eared man straightened slowly. His gaze did 
 not waver from the eyes of Mike Flynn. Realizing that 
 hostilities were unwarranted, the bat-eared gentleman slid 
 his guns into their holsters. 
 
 " I been sick," vouchsafed the bat-eared one quietly. 
 " I ain t well yet not complete. Still nervous some 
 times. What made that noise ? " 
 
 Mike Flynn stooped behind the counter and groped 
 purposefully among cans. When he straightened there 
 roosted on his doubled fist a parrot, green and red, with a 
 mild and filmy eye. The bird stared solemnly about him. 
 Balancing on one foot it scratched its head and giggled. 
 
 " I saw yer steal the whiskey," the parrot observed in 
 a raucous but remarkably human voice. " I ll tell Tom, I 
 will. I ll wring yer neck, see if I don t! Alf an alf ! 
 Gimme a kiss ! I love yer ! Cross my heart ! Grab her ! 
 Grab her ! Kill the cop ! Kill the cop ! There goes the 
 window. Don t let her get away! Smash her face in 
 and throw her out in the alley ! Hellelujah ! Hallelujah ! 
 Gawd bless my soul ! Who s a good boy ? I am ! " 
 
 The parrot ceased talking and with its beak proceeded 
 industriously to search the back of its neck. A slight 
 smile parted the thin lips of the bat-eared man. He 
 pushed back his hat and rubbed a wide forehead. 
 
 "Ain t she the hellion?" chuckled Mike Flynn, tick 
 ling the parrot between the eyes. " She shore knows a 
 lot, Percival does." 
 
 " She ? Percival ? " The bat-eared one stared inquir 
 ingly at Mike Flynn. 
 
The Nester 29 
 
 " She thinks she s a boy," explained Mike, " but I know 
 better. The first thing she done after gittin in from the 
 Coast was lay an egg in me hat. She has no morals, the 
 crayture." 
 
 " I can lick yer with one hand ! " screamed the parrot. 
 " And I will if yer don t shut up ! Oh, my Gawd, you ve 
 killed her! I told yer not to use a knife! Hurrah for 
 the bloody duster ! " 
 
 " She s seen life, has Percival," smiled Mike Flynn, 
 " an death too, I m thinkin . There, yuh divil, in wit 
 yuh." 
 
 He tossed the bird through the open door of the cage 
 on a shelf at his back, closed the door, and pulled a black 
 cloth over the cage. 
 
 " There now," he continued, " she ll kape quiet. Any- 
 thin else besides the cartridges, Mister? " 
 
 " Twenty- four can tomatters an six boxes matches," 
 replied the bat-eared man, now wholly at his ease. " Got 
 any milk, Hyacinth brand, huh? Aw right, twelve cans 
 an twenty pounds o coffee. Any candy, have yuh? " 
 
 " Dozen pails came in this mornin chocolates an 
 hard candies, half an half." 
 
 " I ll take a pail o the chocolate. My daughter likes 
 chocolate candies, she does. An yuh might wrap up 
 three four pounds peppermint sticks. Them striped 
 like a barber s pole. She likes them, too. I guess that ll 
 be about all." 
 
 Kansas Casey, sitting on the counter and swinging 
 spurred heels, looked idly out through the doorway into 
 dusty Main Street. 
 
 When the bat-eared man departed with his purchases, 
 Kansas Casey was still looking through the doorway. 
 He watched the bat-eared man drop his bulging sack be 
 hind the seat of an extremely sway-backed buckboard and 
 make it fast with a lariat. He watched the man untie his 
 team, heave his lanky body into the seat and drive away. 
 
30 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 In the light of recent events Kansas Casey had more than 
 a passing interest in strangers. - 
 
 " Who s that, Mike? " he asked. 
 
 " I never seen him before," was the Irishman s answer. 
 " I did hear how they was a nester throwed down over 
 near Sweetwater Mountain. Maybe it s him." 
 
 " Maybe. I heard o that nester, too. Do you know 
 this gent, Red ? " 
 
 "Who? Me?" Kane replied carelessly. "I guess 
 maybe it might be him that nester, yuh can t tell. 
 Name s Lorimer, or somethin like that." 
 
 " Oh," said Kansas Casey, and he appeared to reflect. 
 " Kind o loosened up on the language after Percival made 
 his li l speech, didn t he?" 
 
 " Shore did. He was sort o dumb an dumpish-like 
 before." Thus Red Kane, extracting tobacco from a 
 shirtpocket. 
 
 " Guess maybe he must a been right serious-sick to 
 have nerves that bad, the poor fellah," Mike said with a 
 knowing wink. 
 
 " Yeah, I guess I guess maybe." Kansas Casey did 
 not glance at Mike Flynn. He looked fixedly at the toes 
 of his own boots. 
 
 " Aw, he s all right," declared Red Kane warmly. 
 
 " Who said he wasn t? " Kansas Casey looked hard at 
 Red Kane. 
 
 " Well, yuh don t have to say much to mean a whole 
 lot." 
 
 " Which goes double," grinned Kansas. " What was 
 that he said about his daughter? " 
 
 " Daughter? " Red Kane exclaimed in a surprised tone. 
 " Did he say anythin about a daughter? " 
 
 "Didn t he, Mike?" 
 
 " Shore did. Bought the candy for her, he said." 
 
 " Le s you n me go get a drink, Red," suggested Kan 
 sas, slipping to the floor with a thud and a jingle. 
 
The Nester 31 
 
 " We ll get two drinks," amended Red Kane, following 
 his friend to the street. " Where yuh goin , Kansas? 
 That ain t the way to the Happy Heart." 
 
 " Nemmine about that drink now. This here freight 
 wagon is where we re a-goin , an we re gonna sit on the 
 tongue, you n me together, an yo re gonna tell me se 
 crets." 
 
 " You ve got em unusual bad to-day, Kansas," Red 
 assured him seriously. " I always knowed, if yuh kept 
 on a-lappin it up an a-lappin it up all same sponge, yuh d 
 go loco. An yuh have, an yuh ve went." 
 
 " Whadda yuh know about that jigger Lorimer, Red? " 
 inquired Kansas, coming straight to the point. 
 
 "Who? Me?" Red Kane elevated surprised eye 
 brows. 
 
 "Yuri done said Who? Me? before. Change 
 hosses, Red. It s What ? Him ? " 
 
 " Oh, yeah, o course, shore, an all like that. What do 
 yuh think I am, a cyclophobia ? I dunno all the nesters in 
 the country, do I ? " 
 
 Red Kane glared indignantly at Kansas Casey. The 
 latter grinned back. 
 
 "Don t tell me," said Kansas. "Yuh ve seen that 
 daughter anyhow. Don t try to tell me different. Why 
 did yuh stick up for him there in the Blue Pigeon less 
 yuh had some reason? " 
 
 " I might have lots o reasons whole herds o rea 
 sons, an none of em yore business." 
 
 " There yuh go gettin mad just cause I hinted this 
 gent wasn t maybe always a holy Christian." 
 
 " I ain t gettin mad ! " Red denied vigorously. 
 
 " Then what yuh gettin all red about? " jibed Kansas. 
 " The daughter, what s she like ? Hell s bells, ain t I yore 
 best friend? Don t yuh glom all my tobacco alia time? 
 Don t I ride yore hosses for yuh an bust em gentle when 
 you ain t able ? Shore I do all that, an more. An 
 
3 2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 here yuh turn me down cold. Yo re a suspicious cuss, 
 Red. Always lookin on the black side. Never trust 
 nobody, you don t. I ll bet you think I really wanna go 
 over to Sweetwater Mountain an cut yuh out or some- 
 thin ." 
 
 " I ain t never been to Lorimer s ranch but once, not 
 that she s any o yore business like I said previous." 
 
 " She s a wide, free world, an I ain t sayin yuh know 
 Lorimer I don t think yuh do, or yuh d a spoke there 
 in the store but yuh ve done met up with the girl some- 
 ers." 
 
 " What if I have? " Red s eyes steadily held those of 
 Kansas. 
 
 " Oh, nothin , only I d like yuh to see somethin I got 
 in the office." 
 
 Kansas led the way to the sheriff s office. The office 
 was the front room of the sheriff s house. Jake Rule, 
 the sheriff of Fort Creek County, was abroad on business. 
 But it was not his custom to lock either his house or his 
 home-made desk. 
 
 Kansas opened the wide deskdrawer. From the 
 drawer he drew a sheaf of notices. Leafing through 
 them rapidly, he found that which he sought and handed 
 it to Red Kane. 
 
 Clipped of legal verbiage, the notice set forth that one 
 John Hudson was wanted for rustling and horse-stealing, 
 said heinous crimes having been committed in Lang 
 County. The notice bore a date three years old. It like 
 wise carried a fairly comprehensive list of John Hudson s 
 salient characteristics. One of these points of interest 
 was a bushy black beard. 
 
 " Ben Lorimer ain t got no beard a-tall," objected Red 
 Kane. 
 
 " They s such a thing as shavin ," suggested Kansas 
 Casey. " It has been done. If you d do it, it would help 
 yore face, Red." 
 
The Nester 3 3 
 
 Red told Kansas where he could go and laid the notice 
 on the desk. 
 
 " You can t prove nothin by this notice," said Red 
 Kane. " Besides, I don t believe he done it anyway." 
 
 " She must be a shore good-looker." 
 
 " What s that gotta do with it ? " wrathf ully. 
 
 " Nothin , nothin a-tall. I was just gonna say that I 
 guess I d better climb on my rockin -hoss an slide out 
 after this stranger an sort o look round where he goes. 
 Whadda you guess ? " 
 
 " Yo re on the wrong range, I keep tellin yuh ! Why, 
 Kansas, she wouldn t let him do nothin out o the way. 
 I know she wouldn t. Aw, you make me sick! Yo re 
 a reg lar he-wolf ! Yuh needn t stand there grinnin like 
 a chessy-cat. Yuh needn t go pokin fun neither. You 
 know I ain t no more likely to help out a hoss thief than 
 you are. But they ain t no hoss thieves in the Lorimer 
 outfit, you can gamble on that." 
 
 " Alia same, here s this man Lorimer a dead ringer for 
 the sharp in this notice, leavin out the beard, o course. 
 They s the same thin lips, straight nose, black eyes, black 
 hair, six-foot-two or thereabout, weight a hundred an 
 seventy-five, quick in his movements an on the trigger. 
 What more do yuh want? Don t it all fit? " 
 
 " It might fit a description of you," said Red sharply. 
 " Yore lips ain t thick, yore nose ain t crooked, you got 
 black hair an eyes, yore weight is between one seventy 
 an one eighty, an you move quick. Comin right down 
 to cases why don t yuh arrest yoreself on suspicion ? " 
 
 " Look here " began Kansas. 
 
 " Coin farther," interrupted Red, " they s Daly right 
 here in town. He fills out that description same s you 
 do. They s Dunlavy, the Wells Fargo agent at Marys- 
 ville. How about him? " 
 
 " Aw, we all know they didn t do it. We know they re 
 honest." 
 
34 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " How do we know they re honest any more n we know 
 this here stranger is dishonest ? " 
 
 " Well, he s a nester, this feller," was Kansas Casey s 
 undeniably lame answer. 
 
 " You dunno he s a nester. He may be, an he may not. 
 Yuh dunno nothin about him." 
 
 "If you don t think he is, why you fightin so hard for 
 him?" 
 
 "Fair play. What else?" 
 
 At which Kansas Casey was moved to smile, for he had 
 never known Red Kane to be so public spirited. But he 
 did not smile. Instead he picked up the Lang County 
 notice and reread it. 
 
 " Here," said he suddenly, pointing to a line of fine 
 print at the very bottom of the sheet, " we missed this, 
 Red. It says here John Hudson has a knife scar on his 
 right arm half-way between elbow an shoulder. That s 
 how we re gonna tell whether this stranger is our John 
 Hudson or not." 
 
 " Yore John Hudson," corrected Red Kane acidly. " I 
 got nothin to do with this, an yuh can stick a pin in that." 
 
 " That s all right. Le s wander." 
 
CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 THE COTTONWOOD 
 
 " HERE S where he left the trail," said Kansas Casey, 
 glancing up from the wheelmarks and turning his horse 
 to follow them. " Strikin off due east. Go yuh ten he s 
 the Sweetwater gent, Red." 
 
 Red Kane shook his head. He was too uncomfortable 
 in his mind to even smoke. He was not a susceptible per 
 son. Far from it. But Miss Dot Lorimer had hit him 
 hard. He had never seen any one quite like her before. 
 That his wages were forty a month and " found " troubled 
 him not at all. His was. a hopeful soul, and the age was 
 a hopeful age. A strong man, provided he kept his head, 
 could go far. With Dot Lorimer as his wife, Red Kane 
 saw himself making wheelmarks in the sands of time. 
 He would save his money, buy a few cows, start a brand 
 of his own and become a large cattleman, like his em 
 ployer, Mr. Saltoun, the owner of the Bar S. He would 
 branch out in other lines too. All rich men did. Mines, 
 for choice. Yes, he thought he would invest in mines 
 and become richer. And all to the end that the curly- 
 haired lady his wife might wear as many diamonds as 
 she desired. Red Kane had an imagination indeed. 
 
 " Hey ! " It was a loud, healthy roar uttered by Kan 
 sas Casey. 
 
 Red Kane lifted his gray eyes to Casey s face. " Did 
 yuh say somethin ? " he asked softly. 
 
 " Me ? Oh, no, I never said nothin . I only spoke to 
 yuh four times, tha s all." 
 
3 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " It s enough. Was yuh doin it for exercise, or 
 what?" 
 
 " I just wanted yuh to tell me the joke. You ve been 
 a-ridin along a-grinnin an a-chucklin to yoreself, an 
 every now an then yuh d slap yore leg an laugh out 
 loud." 
 
 " That s shore funny. I always laugh out loud. I got 
 the habit young, an I never got over it. Gimme the 
 makin s, will yuh ? " 
 
 Kansas Casey handed across tobacco and papers. Red 
 Kane helped himself and handed them back. 
 
 " Wouldn t yuh like a match?" Kansas inquired sar 
 castically. 
 
 " No, I got one. I got tobacco an papers too, but I 
 wanna smoke yores up first, so s I won t run short. 
 Nothin like lookin ahead, is they, Kansas ? " 
 
 " I ve met up with gall," the other declared bitterly, 
 " all kinds o gall, but yores puts the hat on the climax." 
 
 " Now that s a real compliment," Red told him. " That 
 makes me feel like life s worth livin after all. I used to 
 have my doubts, but not now. Just for that, old-timer, 
 when we get back to Farewell I ll let you buy me a drink. 
 No, I ll let you buy me two drinks. It s worth that." 
 
 " I ll buy you some rock salt an feed it to you through 
 a shotgun," snarled Kansas, ostentatiously stuffing his 
 tobacco and papers into the inside pocket of his vest. 
 
 " I d put a padlock on that pocket if I was you," was 
 Red s suggestion, " then yuh shore won t lose nothin ." 
 
 " I would if I had one," cried Kansas, "but then that 
 wouldn t stop yuh if yuh really got thirsty for a smoke." 
 
 " No? " Red smiled slightly and with the butt of his 
 quirt tickled the deputy s horse behind the saddle. 
 
 Now the average Western horse is touchy of its person 
 behind the saddle. Casey s horse was a trifle more aver 
 age than the average. Promptly at the flick of the brass- 
 bound butt across its sensitive skin it tucked its tail be- 
 
The Cottonwood 37 
 
 tween its hind legs, its nose between its forelegs, humped 
 its back and shot straight up in the air. 
 
 Kansas lost his hat and one stirrup; but he stuck and 
 he did not pull leather. He belted the pony with his 
 quirt and strove to jerk up its head. After a moment he 
 succeeded, and then the curb strap parted. 
 
 Now, a curb bit with a broken strap is no better than 
 the veriest snaffle. At the sudden slackening of the pres-. 
 sure on its lower jaw the horse perceived the opportunity 
 of a lifetime and seized it with all four feet and its mouth. 
 It clamped its teeth, straightened its neck and, splitting 
 the wind with crackling nostrils, raced across country full 
 stretch. 
 
 Red, hooting with delight, retrieved the deputy s hat 
 and followed. At the first draw reached by the runaway 
 Red looked to see a tumble. But the horse darted down 
 the near side of the draw and shot across the bottom with 
 never a stagger. Red rode more circumspectly. His 
 mount, one of Kansas Casey s horses, was one of whose 
 surefootedness he knew nothing. 
 
 It is not a surprising thing that Kansas Casey was out 
 of sight within three minutes. Red, never much of a 
 trailer at best, followed the runaway s trail as well as he 
 could. Twice he lost it, but contrived to pick it up on 
 the sides of another draw. 
 
 At the end of five miles of rapid going he came upon 
 Kansas Casey and his horse in the middle of a broad flat 
 between two hills. The horse was galloping madly in a 
 circle. Its outblown nostrils flared red. Its breathing 
 was audible at two hundred yards. Kansas was swaying 
 back on one rein and whirling his quirt cross-handed. 
 
 " I ll teach yuh to run away ! " Kansas was gritting 
 between his teeth. " I lay yore ribs ll look like a plowed 
 field when I get through with yuh." 
 
 Eight rounds of the flat and the horse gave it up. It 
 stood with hanging head, its flanks heaving in and out like 
 
3 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 blacksmith s bellows. Kansas curled his reins round the 
 saddle-horn, breathed long and deeply and wiped his 
 dripping face with his sleeve. He looked about him. 
 His eye fell on Red grinning at him not thirty feet away. 
 
 " Yo re a fine Injun ! " cried Kansas hotly. " Oh, 
 yo re a bird, you are ! Why didn t yuh tell me yuh was 
 gonna play a trick like that? " 
 
 " It wouldn t have been a trick if I had," smiled Red. 
 " Anyway, y ain t got no business ridin if yuh can t 
 control yore hoss an stay in the saddle. Lordy, it shore 
 was funny to see yuh a-bobbin up an down thataway. 
 Why, Kansas, I ll bet if I seen yore hoss s ears under 
 yuh once, I seen em forty times. Wasn t the saddle 
 comfortable, or what? " 
 
 " Yo re a cock-eyed liar," said Kansas, taking advan 
 tage of the fact that one may call a friend a liar and not 
 be shot in the process. " Yuh couldn t a slid a piece o 
 paper under me once." 
 
 " I dunno about no pieces of paper, but a pile o books 
 four feet high wouldn t a had no trouble in doin the 
 trick. Nawsir." 
 
 " Well, anyway," growled Kansas in injured tones, for 
 he really had been severely shaken up, " yuh hadn t 
 oughta played a trick like that. Yuh might a busted my 
 neck." 
 
 " No such luck," denied Red in all seriousness, " yo re 
 too mean to do a thing like that. I wish yuh wouldn t 
 speak so cruel to yore li l Reddy, who didn t mean no 
 harm, an is only doin his level best to get along peaceful 
 as possible in this vale of tears." 
 
 Red Kane, affecting to wipe his eyes, edged nearer to 
 Kansas Casey. 
 
 " Nemmine comin no closer ! " cried Kansas, backing 
 his horse hurriedly. " I ain t a-trustin yuh one inch ! 
 Yo re too gayful to-day to suit me entirely. Gimme 
 my lid." 
 
The Cottonwood 39 
 
 Red sailed the hat toward him. Kansas caught it on 
 the fly, clapped it on his head, and wheeled his horse. 
 
 " Gotta go back where we came from an pick up the 
 buckboard s trail again," he grumbled. " Just lookit the 
 time we lose cause yuh had to play the fool. Honest, 
 Red, sometimes I feel like gettin mad with yuh." 
 
 " Don t do it. The last gent who done that died, poor 
 fellow. Yuh dunno, yuh might be the next, yuh can t 
 tell." 
 
 " I m shore scared to death Say, hear that! " 
 
 " That " was a shot twice repeated. It seemed to come 
 from behind the more eastern of the two hills flanking 
 the flat. 
 
 " I hear somebody a-bawlin Help ," asserted Red 
 Kane. 
 
 " Yore ears are better n mine," said Kansas. " Hop 
 to it." 
 
 They rounded the broad hill s foot at a lope, for the 
 horses had not completely recovered their breath. Be 
 hind the hill, where the cottonwoods grow on the banks 
 of Cow Creek, they came upon the man who had fired 
 the shots and called for help. 
 
 He was the bat-eared stranger of the Blue Pigeon, and 
 he was crumpled in the midst of the smashed wreck 
 of his buckboard. A dead cottonwood was lying across 
 his body. In his hand was a revolver. Beyond the 
 buckboard the two-horse team stood quietly. 
 
 Red and Kansas slid to the ground, flung the reins over 
 their horses heads and set to work. Between the two 
 of them, strong men both, they levered up the cottonwood 
 and slid it to earth. Then they lifted out the bat-eared 
 man he had fainted at their first taking hold upon the 
 cottonwood and laid him on the grass. Superficially 
 at least the man had suffered damage. His head was 
 cut; his chest was cut; his right arm was scraped, torn 
 and bleeding, from shoulder to wrist. 
 
40 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Kansas Casey muttered regretfully, eying the injured 
 arm. 
 
 " They s no tellin about that scar on the arm now," 
 said Red Kane with something like relief in his voice. 
 " You ll have to wait." 
 
 " I know it, but yuh needn t look so happy. We gotta 
 tie him up. He s bleedin pretty healthy. Wonder if 
 he s hurt inside." 
 
 " Looks like he might be. You get water from the 
 creek, Kansas, an I ll fix up a bandage for him." 
 
 When Kansas returned from the creek with a hatful 
 of water, Red, a series of white strips across one knee, 
 was squatting beside the senseless man. 
 
 Dipping into Casey s hat with his own neck-handker 
 chief, Red Kane deftly washed clean the jagged cuts and 
 tears. Then he bound them up tidily with strip after 
 strip of the white stuff draped across his knee. 
 
 Kansas watched him, idly at first, then with suddenly 
 awakened interest as he glimpsed a hem with buttonholes 
 adorning the side of the strips. He arose hastily and 
 went to his saddle and searched his saddle pockets. He 
 came back more hastily than he had gone. And he did 
 not cease to call upon strange gods. Red Kane looked 
 placidly up at him. 
 
 " Whatsamatter ? " queried Red Kane. 
 
 " Whatsamatter ? Whatsamatter?" choked out the 
 thoroughly provoked Kansas. " I d ask whatsamatter ! 
 I d tell a man, I would! You purple pirate, you done 
 took my shirt, my white shirt, the only white shirt I got, 
 an tore it all up for bandages ! " 
 
 " What right you got to a white shirt, I d like to 
 know ? " demanded Red, shaking a lean finger at him. 
 " You got nerve wearin white shirts. You ain t a min 
 ister nor a undertaker an you got a white shirt. Why, 
 Kansas, when I looked in yore saddle pockets an seen 
 that shirt, I shore thought she must a crawled in there 
 
The Cottonwood 41 
 
 by mistake. I never had no idea you was the owner. 
 So it was yores, huh ? " 
 
 " Yes, it was mine, an you ll get me another, or I ll 
 shore crawl yore hump a few ! You can t run no blazers 
 on me, you long-legged rooster ! " 
 
 " Lordy, Kansas, yo re shore hard to please. Why, if 
 I hadn t a used yore shirt, I d a had to use mine. Think 
 o that, an be happy." 
 
 Kansas opened his mouth to reply, but the injured man, 
 coming out of his faint, spoke first. 
 
 " I m obliged to yuh for takin the forest off my neck," 
 said he in a weak voice. 
 
 " No trouble, a-tall," grinned Red. " Lucky we heard 
 yuh shootin an shoutin ." 
 
 " She was only two shots," said the other, " an that 
 one yell was all I could manage. It s shore amazin how 
 a tree roostin on yore chestbone cuts off yore wind." 
 He dropped his eyes to his bandaged arm. " Tied up 
 all same invalid," he continued. " Was that pail o 
 candy squashed ? ". 
 
 " Nary a squash," was Red s reassuring reply. " Missed 
 every thin behind the seat, that cottonwood did. I d 
 shore like to know how she came to drop so unlucky like 
 just when you was passin . They ain t no wind." 
 
 " Hit her with the hub o my off front wheel," ex 
 plained the hurt man. " Crack she went an down she 
 come. She was pretty rotten, I guess." 
 
 " Yeah," said Kansas, examining the stump. " Just 
 punk. How yuh f eelin ? " 
 
 :t Tolerable," declared the other and strove to arise, 
 but he sank back instantly, his face drawn with pain. 
 
 "Where s it the worst?" asked Red, bending over 
 him. 
 
 " Left side, low down," whispered the man. 
 
 "Floatin ribs, I guess," hazarded Red. " Yuh d 
 oughta have a doctor." 
 
42 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Don t need one," the stranger contradicted weakly. 
 " My daughter Dot, she s pretty good thataway. She 
 set a busted leg for me once, an it set grand. If I could 
 get home, gents, I d be all right." 
 
 "Where yuh live?" 
 
 " In the old ranch-house at the spring near Sweetwater 
 Mountain. My name s Lorimer." 
 
 Kansas Casey could not forego a fleeting smile of sat 
 isfaction. In one premise, at least, he was correct. Red 
 looked woodenly at Kansas. 
 
 " Guess maybe we could sort o fix that buckboard," 
 said he. " The wheels an axles are still O K. But we 
 ain t got nothin to cut saplin s with." 
 
 " They s a ax an a sawr under the buckboard seat," 
 said Lorimer. " I always carry em for a e-mergency. 
 Never know what s gonna drop in this country," he 
 added with a whimsical smile. 
 
CHAPTER SIX 
 JUDGE LYNCH 
 
 THEY were yet two hundred yards from the ranch- 
 house by the spring when Miss Lorimer came running 
 to meet them. If she recognized Red Kane she gave no 
 sign. She stooped above her father when the dreary 
 makeshift of a vehicle halted, listened to his few words, 
 ran deft hands over his body lightly, surely. She 
 straightened her young figure, pushed the black curls out 
 of her eyes and said : 
 
 " He has a broken rib and a badly scratched arm. I 
 don t think he s otherwise much hurt beyond a few 
 bruises. Bring him along. I ll get things ready." 
 
 She ran lithely back to the house. Red followed her 
 flight without the slightest change of expression. He 
 looked as stolid as a ship s figurehead. Kansas Casey 
 stared after the lady a moment; then he looked at Red 
 Kane. His eyes met Red s steady gray gaze. Where 
 upon Kansas Casey winked his off eye, stuck his tongue 
 into his cheek and started the horses. 
 
 " I see you ve changed saddles," observed the girl to 
 Red Kane when her father was resting as comfortably 
 as his set rib would allow him. 
 
 The two were standing at the kitchen doorway. Kan 
 sas Casey was busily engaged in chopping wood against 
 the morrow. Red looked out to where his brother Tom s 
 saddle hung on a corral post. 
 
 " Yeah." He smiled his engaging smile. " I made up 
 my mind I wouldn t make that mistake again." 
 
44 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 "What mistake?" Water running over ice was no 
 colder than her tone. 
 
 " Jack Owens saddle." 
 
 And Red went on to tell her the true story of the saddle 
 and himself. 
 
 She did not look at him as he spoke. Instead, she 
 gazed aloofly toward the western hills, dark against the 
 setting sun. He could not be positive whether she be 
 lieved him or not. She was certainly very beautiful 
 standing there with the sunbeams playing redly on her 
 face. How her black curls glistened in the glow ! What 
 would it be like to put a hand beneath her firm, round 
 chin and tilt her head back ? He wondered and, wonder 
 ing, forgot that he was staring her out of countenance till 
 she suddenly looked at him, her cheeks hot with a fire 
 that sprang not from the sunshine. 
 
 " You re a plausible person," she told him, giving him 
 stare for stare the while. " You tell a fairly straight 
 story, well strung together, as it were." 
 
 " Ma am " he began, a trifle hurt. 
 
 " Oh, I believe you," she drawled. " Why wouldn t 
 I ? Didn t you rescue my father and bring him home, 
 you and your friend? It was providential that you hap 
 pened to be on hand. I am a little curious to know how 
 you happened to be on hand, and how your friend hap 
 pens to be a deputy sheriff. I suppose he s a deputy. 
 He s wearing the star of one." 
 
 " I got lots o different kinds o friends," Red said 
 vaguely, finding the ice brittle. 
 
 " I ve noticed that that and a certain persistency. 
 Why were you coming out here again, with a deputy 
 sheriff?" 
 
 The black eyes narrowed ever so little, and the voice 
 rang a bit hard. 
 
 " I didn t say I was comin out here," objected Red, 
 beginning to fidget on his feet. 
 
Judge Lynch 45 
 
 " I know you didn t say so. You don t have to say 
 so in so many words. I wasn t born the day before yes 
 terday. What are your intentions ? " 
 
 " I m gonna marry you." 
 
 It was not the reply he had meant to give. It had 
 bounced out on the spur of the moment The girl s 
 cheeks grew redder. Her black eyes sparkled. Then 
 she smiled unpleasantly. 
 
 " So that s your trouble, she said thoughtfully. " Do 
 you know, I thought, when I saw your friend was a dep 
 uty, that you had gotten the law to help you evict us. 
 But why if you intend to marry me why bring a 
 deputy sheriff ? Why not a minister ? " 
 
 " I didn t know you d be willin so quick." 
 
 At that she swung her arm to box his ear. But he 
 had moved. Her fingers swept past his nose with four 
 inches to spare. 
 
 " Always watch a person s eyes, said he gravely, 
 standing six feet away, " then yuh can tell what s comin*. 
 I was watchin yores, watchin em close. They re black 
 all right, but they got lots o fire in em." He watched 
 her narrowly, saw that she was trembling violently, and 
 altered his tone abruptly. " Aw, be reasonable," he con 
 tinued beseechingly. "Be reasonable, can t yuh? I m 
 meanin every word I say." 
 
 At which naive announcement she began to laugh im 
 moderately. He watched her in perplexity. He had 
 heard of hysterics. Was she having them? Ought he 
 to throw water on her or shake her ? Which ? He took 
 a long breath and a step forward. As he moved, she 
 ceased to laugh. He halted. She folded her arms and 
 looked upon him, her expression solemn. 
 
 "You actually mean you want to marry me?" she 
 drawled. 
 
 " Shore." he nodded. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
46 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I like yore looks." 
 
 " Oh, my looks. I see. But you don t know me. I 
 might be a most gosh-awful person for all you can tell." 
 
 " I ll take a chance." In all seriousness. 
 
 " You are a gambler. Risking your future, every 
 thing, all for the sake of black eyes and black hair and a 
 straight nose. How do you know you ll love me, cherish 
 me, and all that after I m gray and decrepit? Have you 
 thought of that?" 
 
 " Whatsa use ? " was the cynical reply. " I d rather 
 think about now. But I tell yuh this an I ain t foolin , 
 not any if I love yuh now, I ll love yuh always, an 
 don t yuh forget it. I ain t no kid." 
 
 " How old are you? " 
 
 " Twenty-eight." 
 
 "Twenty-eight. Well, well, who d a thought it? 
 Regular Methuselah, aren t you ? " 
 
 " Nun no, I dunno about that." 
 
 " Middle-aged then. We ll be charitable and call it 
 that. And you were askin me to be reasonable a while 
 since, weren t you? All right, I will be. As a prospec 
 tive husband, have you anythin besides yourself and your 
 nerve to offer a bride ? " 
 
 "Ain t I enough?" 
 
 " Not for me. How large is your ranch ? How many 
 calves do you brand in the spring ? " 
 
 " Now you re talkin scandiloovious, an I ain t no 
 squarehead. Ranch! Calves! Ha-ha, an a couple o 
 hees. I said be reasonable, ma am." 
 
 " It s yourself and the nerve then. I was thinkin it 
 might be that. I m afraid it won t do, Mister Methuse 
 lah. I m a hearty eater. I like to be sure of my food. 
 No, no, it won t do. You ll have to take your honest 
 heart elsewhere." 
 
 " Nary a take. I m stickin till you change your 
 mind." 
 
Judge Lynch 47 
 
 " Just hold your breath till I do, my gay young friend. 
 Why, you poor conceited fool of a pilgrim, I wouldn t 
 marry you if you were the last man on earth. You 
 might as well drag it so far s I m concerned." 
 
 " But you ain t the only one concerned," objected Red 
 Kane, meeting her hard smile with his cheerful grin. 
 " You keep forgettin me alia time. I m gonna marry 
 you, maybe not to-day or to-morrow, but some day. It 
 don t make a bit o differ how much you say, what you 
 say or how you say it she s settled. Yo re gonna 
 marry me, just as shore as the Lord made li l hoptoads, 
 an don t you forget it." 
 
 " Whether I want to or not? " A sardonic devil leaped 
 and danced in the depths of her black eyes. 
 
 " You ll want to," he told her confidently. 
 
 She laughed a laugh that matched her former smile 
 in hardness. Suddenly her face fell sober. 
 
 " I suppose I ll have to listen to you," said she. " You 
 were very decent about bringin dad in and you helped 
 me set the rib. I owe you somethin for that." 
 
 Red Kane went fiery beneath the tan. 
 
 " You don t mean that," he said quietly. " You know 
 I ain t lookin for pay. An you don t have to listen to 
 me. I ll shut up for now, but I m comin round later." 
 
 " It s a free country," she put in. 
 
 " Cause if I don t," he continued, " it s a safe bet 
 somebody else will, an I m aimin to be the somebody 
 my own self." 
 
 " I ve seen men here and there," she observed dispas 
 sionately. " Some were good and some were not, a few 
 pleased me and more didn t, and that means quite a jag of 
 em first and last, but of all the he-mortals I ever ran 
 across not a single dozen ever made me so mad as you 
 do. Good-by." 
 
 She turned a straight back on him and slammed the 
 kitchen door in his face. 
 
48 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " She ll come round," he told himself with an assur 
 edness he was far from feeling. " What did I tell her I 
 was gonna marry her for? Red, yuh poor id jit, you ve 
 shore spilt the coffee-pot this time." He smiled a one 
 sided smile, and rubbed an elbow with the palm of his 
 hand. " She hadn t oughta asked me about my inten 
 tions," he continued aloud. " Nawsir, she shore oughtn t 
 to done that." 
 
 He regarded the closed door with half -shut eyes, teeter 
 ing the while on his high heels. 
 
 " I wonder now," he mused. " I wonder " 
 
 He dodged sidewise and wheeled, for Kansas Casey 
 had clapped him violently on the shoulder. 
 
 " Watcha mumblin an mutter in about?" the deputy 
 inquired curiously. You was havin a fine powwow 
 with you an yoreself. Can a gent horn in, or was you 
 desirin to be private?" 
 
 " I was," Red said pointedly, " but I dunno as it s any 
 use goin on with it now. I like you, Kansas. Take yuh 
 all round, meat, hide, horns, hoofs an taller, yo re a 
 pretty good jigger. I don t care what folks say, I ll 
 always give yuh a good character. Yore face may be 
 against yuh, but you can t help it. You was born that 
 way, an " 
 
 " Look here " Kansas began with heat. 
 
 " I m doin that," interrupted Red, " an I can t see that 
 you ve changed a bit since yuh went out to that wood 
 pile. If you ve done butchered enough kindlin , lean on 
 them two buckets an sashay over to the spring an back 
 a few times. This ll be the first honest work y ever 
 done in yore life, won t it, Kansas? Now, now, Kansas, 
 lookout! You ll choke!" 
 
 Affecting great anxiety, Red seized Kansas by the 
 shoulders. Kansas, out of deference to the lady who 
 he supposed was in the kitchen, must perforce whisper 
 his opinion of Red. The effort at restraint rendered him 
 
Judge Lynch 49 
 
 purple. The two, wrestling, waltzed across to the cor 
 ral. Suddenly Red loosed his hold. 
 
 " Hear that," said he, fending off Kansas with both 
 hands. 
 
 "What?" queried Kansas, lowering his arms. 
 
 " Hosses." Succinctly. 
 
 Both listened. 
 
 " There, can t yuh hear em ? " Red demanded impa 
 tiently. " Take the cotton out o yore ears." 
 
 " I ll stick my knuckles in yores," Kansas told him 
 amiably. " I hear em now. They s a few of em shore 
 comin this way fast an soon." 
 
 " Ten anyway," said Red Kane. 
 
 A moment later a bunched group of horsemen ap 
 peared on a rise of ground a mile to the west. They 
 were in a tearing hurry, these horsemen, and swept down 
 on the ranch-house, a dusty outfit of sixteen men. They 
 galloped up and skittered to a halt. 
 
 It seemed to Red that their manner was suspiciously 
 ostentatious. He watched them curiously. He knew 
 them all. They were men of Farewell, every one. They 
 nodded or spoke to him and Kansas, and it was evident 
 that they found the presence of Kansas Casey sufficiently 
 displeasing. 
 
 " I suppose you ve arrested him, Kansas," said the 
 leader, one Carlson, a short and thickset person with a 
 sweeping brown mustache. 
 
 Deep disappointment lay heavily in the tones of Mr. 
 Carlson. 
 
 Kansas Casey opened innocent eyes. He stared hard 
 at Carlson and the outfit at his horse s tail. 
 
 " Arrested who ? " said Kansas Casey. 
 
 " Why, this man Lorimer." 
 
 Red Kane puckered his forehead. Was it possible 
 that Carlson knew of the notice from Lang County? 
 
 "What do I wanna arrest him for?" asked Kansas 
 
50 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Casey. " Not that it s any of yore business whether I 
 arrest him or not." 
 
 " O course not," said Carlson smoothly, and he smiled 
 a crooked smile. " Law-breakin is none of our business 
 neither." He looked round at the faces of his followers 
 before adding, " Why would it be? But, if you ain t here 
 to arrest him, what are yuh doin here? " 
 
 " Which again is none of yore business." Kansas did 
 not raise his voice. But it was obvious that he was 
 growing angry. 
 
 Carlson nodded. Again he looked about him at his 
 men. 
 
 " I guess," said he. " I guess likely. Well, if you 
 ain t gonna do nothin with this gent Lorimer for robbin 
 the stage, I guess we will." 
 
 " You will ? " Kansas said very softly. " You will ? " 
 
 " Y bet yuh." Carlson wagged a purposeful head, dis 
 mounted and set one hand to his rope-strap. 
 
 " I don t see no sheriff in yore bunch," Kansas said. 
 
 " No," returned Carlson, " he ain t with us to-day." 
 
 " An if you figure on doin any thin rambuctious with 
 that rope, you won t be with us neither," chipped in Red 
 Kane, taking a hand in the conversation for the first time. 
 
 Carlson continued to unstrap his rope. He took it 
 down and shook out its coils. 
 
 " I don t see nobody round here that s gonna keep me 
 from doin anythin I feel like doin ." Carlson stared 
 hardily at Red Kane. 
 
 " Think so? " grinned Red. " Well, Mister Man, all 
 you gotta do is open any door in this house." 
 
 Carlson laughed harshly and spat. He was not lack 
 ing in courage, this Carlson, but he knew that Red Kane 
 was a cold proposition. So was Kansas Casey. Both 
 were excellent shots. He himself, as leader of his crowd, 
 would, should matters come to a crisis, indubitably be 
 the first to die. 
 
Judge Lynch 5 i 
 
 " Look here, they s sixteen of us," announced Carlson. 
 " How you gonna stop us ? Sixteen to two. Yo re talkin 
 foolish." 
 
 " Then if we re talkin foolish, what yuh waitin for? " 
 Kansas Casey inquired shrewdly. 
 
 " We don t wanna have to drill you, Kansas," ex 
 plained Carlson. " Yo re a friend o ours. So s Red " 
 
 " I ain t," Red Kane interrupted. " Not for one li l 
 minute I ain t. I ain t friends with no herd o humans 
 who comes squinchin round sixteen to one to lynch folks. 
 Yo re a real courageous outfit o bummers, I ll say that 
 for yuh. Where s the rest o the town ? Don t you know 
 this gent might be armed? Ain t yuh takin a long 
 chance? I m only surprised yuh didn t come round at 
 night when yuh could creep up on him asleep, an 
 None o that, Carlson! Stick em up, quick! " 
 
 Carlson stuck them up and inwardly cursed himself for 
 being so thoughtless as to go after his gun against a man 
 like Red Kane. 
 
 " A derringer is shore handy," Red observed to the 
 world at large without removing his eyes from the face 
 of Carlson. " Yuh can carry it right in the palm of 
 yore hand an nobody ll notice it till the right time. You 
 didn t, did yuh, Carlson?" 
 
 Carlson s reply was more than vigorous. 
 
 " Guess now I must a hurt Carlson s li l pink feelin s," 
 mourned Red. " I m sorry. It s all right about you 
 gents in behind there, but if anybody goes a-draggin out 
 his artillery thinkin to down me when I ain t lookin , 
 Carlson here will be sorrier than me. This derringer is 
 fifty caliber an double-barreled," he added matter-of- 
 factly. 
 
 " Lemme do this, boys," pleaded Carlson to his nervous 
 henchmen. 
 
 " Why not lemme? " suggested Kansas Casey. " Red, 
 yo re too previous. Carlson, so are you. An as for the 
 
5 2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 rest o you gents, they won t be no lynchin here. They s 
 a mighty sick man in this house, an I want yuh to let 
 him alone." 
 
 The kitchen door at Red s back opened. The girl 
 stood in the doorway. 
 
 " If you boys intend to do any shootin ," she said 
 quietly, " I wish you d go away off some ers. Your 
 friskin round out here has got him all excited. He can t 
 hear what you re sayin , and naturally he s curious. Come 
 some other time, gentlemen, when he s better." 
 
 She nodded, smiled brightly upon them all and closed 
 the door. 
 
 Red, at the sound of the girl s voice, had tucked the 
 derringer out of sight beneath his armpit. Carlson had 
 lowered his hands and clasped them with as much ease 
 as he could muster behind his head. He fondly trusted 
 that the girl would think that this was a natural pose. 
 Too late, when she was gone, he remembered that he 
 should have removed his hat. The others had swept 
 theirs off. Most of them were grinning idiotically and 
 settling neckhandkerchiefs with great care. Pretty 
 women are few and far between in the broken lands. 
 
 But all was not well yet. Four members of the lynch 
 ing party, while imitating their comrades in the removal 
 of their hats, were not overjoyed at the turn of affairs. 
 The bumptiousness of Red Kane stuck in their gullets. 
 They did not like him anyway. They never had. Fresh 
 jigger, like all that Bar S crowd. 
 
 Durkin, Cox, Lenn and Dill, knowing each other very 
 well, looked sidelong at the man who had outfaced them. 
 Kansas Casey had been likewise in the outfacing. But 
 that was different quite. For Kansas Casey was a deputy 
 sheriff. 
 
 Red Kane, unconscious of their scrutiny, shifted his 
 feet. A gleam of yellow showed dully in the trampled 
 grass beside his boot soles. It was fate that the afore- 
 
Judge Lynch 53 
 
 mentioned quartette should have been watching Red at 
 that moment. 
 
 " Looks like a gold piece there/ remarked Durkin in 
 a voice unnecessarily loud. 
 
 " Right by yore foot the left one/ said Lenn. 
 
 Red stooped. There was a twenty-dollar gold piece 
 without doubt. He picked it up. Another caught his 
 eye. Then a third and a fourth. He could see no others. 
 Red chinked the four gold pieces in the palm of his 
 hand. 
 
 " An me standin right over em an never knowed it," 
 he marveled. 
 
 " They musta fell out of his pockets when we unloaded 
 him off the buckboard," said Kansas Casey. 
 
 " Out of his pockets, huh ? " repeated Durkin. Eight 
 hundred dollars o the money stole from the stage passen 
 gers was in double eagles, did yuh know that? " 
 
 " What of it ? " demanded the truculent Red. " What s 
 that got to do with these here four, Durkin? " 
 
 But Durkin merely grinned and patted the brass horn 
 of his saddle. His three friends smiled evilly. Carlson 
 looked troubled. He could have wished himself else 
 where. He was not a bad chap at heart, and he had seen 
 the nester s daughter. One of Carlson s friends, a gentle 
 man named Riley, voiced Carlson s own thought. 
 
 " After all," observed the gentleman named Riley, " we 
 can t tell nothin by them there double eagles. They s 
 lots of eagles. The gov ment makes em by the bar l." 
 
 " Alia same, this had oughta be looked into," declared 
 Cox. 
 
 " I guess we ll have to search the house after all," the 
 deputy pronounced. " S no use hollerin , Red, it s gotta 
 be done. Don t mean nothin anyway. It s only a for- 
 mal ty." 
 
 Kansas Casey turned and knocked upon the kitchen 
 door. 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 PUBLIC OPINION 
 
 " WHY didn t yuh knock that gun out of his hand ! " 
 complained Cox, tenderly holding a bandaged forearm. 
 
 " How d I know he had a gun?" angrily demanded 
 Durkin. " I thought he was hurt bad from what Kansas 
 said busted ribs an such couldn t make a gun- 
 play." 
 
 " He shore made one," said Carlson, building himself a 
 cigarette. " An his second shot tickled my ear so close 
 I felt the breeze. If this Lorimer gent is as active as 
 this when he s sick, yuh can fry me if I wanna fuss with 
 him without one awful good reason when he s well." 
 
 " That s me," chimed in Riley. " He shore is a cracker 
 with a gun. Why, I was watchin him when they s a 
 flash-flash an a couple o bangs from his bunk, an Coxy s 
 nicked. Wonder he didn t down yuh, Coxy. Bet he 
 would if he hadn t been sort of under the weather. That 
 second shot was for you too." 
 
 " I know it," grunted Cox, " his soul. I ll 
 
 get him yet." 
 
 " You be sure an bushwhack him then," advised Red 
 Kane sarcastically, " or what ll be left o you won t float 
 in water. Y oughta had better sense, Cox, than to offer 
 to bet Durkin the stolen money was under the floor in a 
 bull-beller yuh could hear over in Farewell. An you 
 standin not ten feet from his bunk. No wonder he took 
 a shot at yuh. Don t blame him. Serve yuh right. 
 Yo re a fool, Cox, whether yuh like it or not." 
 
Public Opinion 55 
 
 " This here s my right hand/ suggested Cox, " or Fd 
 talk to yuh." 
 
 " I ll be round when it gets well," Red answered him 
 promptly. 
 
 " Alia same, s pose we didn t find no money besides the 
 silver in his clo es," said Durkin, giving Red his closest 
 attention. " I ll bet he did help hold up that stage, an I 
 wouldn t be surprised none if he knowed somethin about 
 the express robbery." 
 
 " Yo re a liar!" cried partisan Red on general prin 
 ciples and reached for his gun. 
 
 His clutching fingers had barely touched the wood of 
 the butt when a Winchester cracked behind him, burning 
 powder grains stung his ear, and Durkin, a ragged hole in 
 the front of his hat, gave way at the knees and toppled 
 backward. 
 
 Red Kane, one hand over his burnt ear, turned. There 
 in the doorway of the ranch-house stood the nester s 
 daughter. Her black eyes were blazing. Her lips were 
 parted, showing clenched white teeth. In her hands she 
 held a rifle. From the muzzle a curl of greasy gray 
 smoke spiraled lazily upward. 
 
 The spectators did not move. Some looked at the pros 
 trate Durkin with the blood trickling from beneath his 
 hat. Some looked at the girl where she stood motionless, 
 her smoking rifle slanting across her tense figure. The 
 girl stared at the body of the man she had shot. Slowly 
 she passed the tip of a pink tongue across and across her 
 tight-drawn lips. She laid the rifle level and clicked in a 
 fresh cartridge. 
 
 The nester s daughter raised her head. Each man of 
 the scattered crowd felt that her smoldering gaze was 
 fixed upon him personally. They shifted their feet and 
 hands and wriggled embarrassed shoulders. Even Kan 
 sas Casey and Red Kane were not immune to the general 
 feeling of unease. 
 
5 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Does anybody else think there s any stolen money 
 around here, and does anybody else think my father is a 
 road agent ? " Her voice was quite clear, and it carried 
 an edge like a razor. 
 
 No one made reply. Somehow it seemed that no 
 reply was necessary. The silence was thick enough to cut. 
 It endured while one so moved might saddle a horse. 
 Then Kansas Casey cleared a self-conscious throat. 
 Kansas was not clear in his mind whether the case was 
 one of murder or justifiable homicide. Justice in that 
 country was a broad-minded lady, but Kansas Casey was 
 a conscientious officer. God knows he always tried to do 
 the proper thing. 
 
 " Ma am," said Kansas Casey, taking off his hat to 
 the girl, " I wish you d gimme yore word not to leave the 
 county till the sheriff he s coroner sits on this case. 
 He d oughta get back from Marysville inside a week 
 which I shore hope he does, if not sooner, cause I dunno 
 how Durkin s gonna keep this weather. You see, 
 ma am," he continued persuasively, " me bein here when 
 you when it happened we gotta be legal about it 
 so s it ll look right. But I don t guess they ll be no 
 trouble. The jury ll be square about it. They always 
 are. Most likely they ll bring it in suicide or the like o 
 that. So if you ll just gimme yore word, ma am, like I 
 say " 
 
 The supposed corpse chose this moment to move a leg 
 and utter a lusty groan. Later it was told abroad that 
 the gentleman named Riley, who was standing at Dur 
 kin s head, jumped six feet. But then everybody was 
 more or less startled. Kansas Casey was so surprised 
 that he bit his tongue. It was the resourceful Red who 
 first recovered himself. 
 
 " I knowed he wasn t dead all along," declared that 
 superior person. " Dead gents always fall on their 
 faces always. It s a rule. An Durkin fell flat on his 
 
Public Opinion 57 
 
 back, an nobody noticed it except me, which is nothin 
 to wonder at considerin ." 
 
 In this wise and with these words Red Kane covered his 
 bounding feeling of relief relief that his goddess had 
 not killed a man. He approved and admired her fight 
 ing spirit; yet, when it came to a public killing, he pre 
 ferred to take it upon his own soul. For Red s life in 
 the cow country had been unable to completely uproot the 
 home-grown doctrine that woman s sphere is the porch 
 and fireside. 
 
 No one paid any attention to Red or what he was say 
 ing. Mr. Durkin was the center of attraction. His 
 friend Mr. Lenn, a dark-faced devil in a red-and-wLite 
 checked shirt, eased Mr. Durkin s head upon his knee 
 and took off Mr. Durkin s hat. 
 
 " Ow ! Wow ! " Mr. Durkin s yelp would not have 
 disgraced a tortured coyote. " That s my head ! " con 
 tinued Mr. Durkin passionately. " Tryin to scalp me, 
 yuh thumb-handed id jit! My skull s fractured. I know 
 it is!" 
 
 " No such luck," Red Kane told him, dropping on one 
 knee at his side. " You was lookin for trouble, an you 
 got it. Y always did talk too much. This ll learn yuh 
 to keep yore fool mouth shut. Hold still, can t yuh? 
 How can I see how much yo re hurt with you wigglin 
 all over like a worm on a hook. There now, Rum, yo re 
 in luck. Told yuh yuh wasn t damaged none to speak of. 
 The lead only tore all the skin and hair off the top o yore 
 head. The bone s only grooved a li l bit. 
 
 " Here, shove across with the water, Pickles. Don t 
 pour it in his eye! Over his head! That s it. Why 
 couldn t yuh done it in the first place stead of wastin near 
 all of it? Git me some more, will yuh? Hold still, 
 Durkin. Too bad yuh can t see how fine I m a-doin this. 
 You d appreciate it. Look at it, gents. A regular saw 
 bones couldn t a fixed it up no better. This ll be as good 
 
5 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 a job as Kansas done on Coxy s arm. Kansas, you bust 
 open a cartridge an gimme the powder. I wanna rub it 
 on to stop the bleedin ." 
 
 " Don tcha put no powder on my head ! " commanded 
 Durkin, striving to writhe out from beneath the minister 
 ing hands of Red Kane. " The blue ll never come out. 
 I don t wanna look like a warwhoop in paint." 
 
 " Shut up ! Got the powder, Kansas ? Don t you go 
 frettin now, Rum, this here powder may hurt, but it ll 
 shore stop the bleedin an keep out lockjaw. You don t 
 wanna get lockjaw, do yuh? You wouldn t never talk 
 nor eat nor nothin . Think o that, Rum, an be happy. 
 Any gent got a clean handkerchief ? " 
 
 Red finally had the wounded man bandaged to suit him 
 Red if not the patient, and rose to his feet. 
 
 " There," he said, slapping his palms together as he had 
 seen a surgeon do on a certain occasion in Piegan City, 
 " that s done. An , Rum, yuh won t never have to brush 
 yore hair again. Yuh ll always have a part right in the 
 middle. Save yuh a lot of trouble, that will." 
 
 The information did not wonderfully cheer Mr. Dur 
 kin. He lay on the broad of his back and regarded Red 
 Kane darkly. 
 
 " Yeah," he grated, " I m shore obliged to yuh, Red." 
 
 " I ll bet he s obliged most to death," Riley whispered 
 into Carlson s appreciative ear. " He ll be Red s friend 
 for life, Durkin will." 
 
 " Yeah," nodded Carlson, " an he won t never forget 
 Red s talkin up to him thataway. Durkin can t stand 
 nobody tellin him the truth about himself. Hurts his 
 feelin s. He s got right tender feelin s," he added with a 
 short chuckle. 
 
 "If he s got any sense, Rum won t pamper them feelin s 
 too much, not if he wants to keep on minglin in our 
 midst. I notice he sort o let slide Red s callin him a 
 liar." 
 
Public Opinion 59 
 
 " He ll wait. Rum Durkin s got the patience of a 
 cougar. If he can t get what he wants one way, he ll 
 figure out another." 
 
 " I know he ain t to be trusted," Riley admitted 
 thoughtfully. " Too bad Red didn t have time to down 
 him." 
 
 " Red will yet," asserted Carlson confidently. " He s 
 all right, even if he did make me stick my hands up. Y 
 can t help but like the fool." 
 
 " Y ain t the only one likes him," grinned Riley. 
 " Look yoncier." 
 
 Carlson looked. The men from Farewell were catch 
 ing up their horses. Durkin, very wobbly in the saddle, 
 his three friends in close attendance, was already start 
 ing off on the back trail. The clear space between the 
 ranch-house and the corral was deserted by everyone save 
 Red Kane. The puncher, his back toward the house, 
 was tightening cinches twenty feet from the kitchen door. 
 The nester s daughter was looking at him through the 
 kitchen window. 
 
 Red turned, and the girl dodged out of sight. He took 
 a step toward the house, hesitated; then he suddenly 
 wheeled back to his horse, slapped the reins up across its 
 neck, and mounted. He rode away by himself without 
 a backward glance. 
 
 " Her lookin thataway don t mean nothin ," whispered 
 the sophisticated Carlson, who read more romantic novels 
 than any twelve men in the territory. " You can t tell 
 what a woman means by her looks nohow, but you can 
 gamble she shore don t mean what yuh think she means 
 no matter what. If yuh know what I mean." 
 
 " I don t," said Riley promptly. " Not for a minute. 
 But alia same I wish she d look at me thataway once. 
 Just once. That s all I d ask. I ain t talked to a real 
 pretty girl in two year an a half. I guess now I ll go 
 ask her for a drink." 
 
60 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Riley set his hat straight and marched up to the kitchen 
 door and knocked. Carlson, with a most peculiar smile, 
 settled his shoulders against the corral stockade and 
 waited. 
 
 The door opened and the girl appeared. Riley took 
 off his hat, achieved a head-bob in lieu of a bow and said 
 something. The girl said something and closed the door. 
 Riley pulled on his hat and strode directly to where his 
 horse was tied. Riley s face was very red. Carlson s 
 peculiar smile deepened. 
 
 " Whatsa matter, * Irish ?" he asked wnen he had 
 joined his friend. " Ain t yuh thirsty no more? " 
 
 " No, I ain t," Riley averred with biting emphasis. 
 " She ain t so awful good-lookin when yuh stand close 
 to her," he continued with elaborate calm of manner. 
 " Skin s kind o coarse-like, an her eyes is just a li l bit 
 crossed." 
 
 " Yeah," said Carlson, " I guess likely. I dunno 
 my ears ain t so awful sharp but I thought I heard her 
 tell yuh they was a dipper at the spring an to leave her 
 alone. O course, I m only sayin I thought she said that. 
 I didn t mean to listen, Irish." 
 
 " No, you wouldn t, an it don t matter anyway, an 
 it don t matter what she said neither. I don t think she s 
 pretty a-tall, an yuh can stick a pin in that, old-timer. 
 Get yore bone- rack an come along before we get wet. 
 Look at them clouds. Gonna rain, I guess. It is rainin , 
 an I left my slicker behind." 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 THE BROKEN KNIFE 
 
 " MY Lord, Piney," exclaimed Red Kane, stopping his 
 horse beside the blacksmith shop, " ain t yuh never gonna 
 get that wheel made ? I ain t aimin to spend the rest o 
 my sweet young life in this village of bushwhackers, I 
 ain t. Here you are pitchin hoss-shoes like you hadn t 
 a care in the wicked world an not one single spoke fin 
 ished, I ll bet." 
 
 " Yo re a heap wrong, Red," declared the blacksmith, 
 scratching his head with grimy fingers. " I got all o six 
 spokes ready, but I done dropped my spoke-shave an 
 nicked it, an " 
 
 " An instead o grabbin the grindstone an grindin out 
 the nick, yuh had to start in pitchin hoss-shoes with that 
 mis able scoundrel, Bill Lainey. Howdy, Bill, don t yuh 
 know pitchin hoss-shoes is dangerous business for a gent 
 o yore size? Yo re likable to strain somethin besides 
 yore suspenders. Why, Bill, I dunno when I seen you 
 takin so much exercise all at once. Whatsa matter, 
 tryin to lose yoreself flesh or somethin ? " 
 
 The remarks to Bill Lainey s address were delivered 
 in a hearty roar that carried well across and beyond the 
 street, even as Red Kane had intended. 
 
 " For Gawd s sake ! " wheezed Lainey imploringly, 
 flapping fat hands at Red, " don t yell so loud ! My 
 wife ll hear yuh! Shut up, Red, will yuh? " 
 
 Like a horizontal jack-in-the-box, a sharp-faced woman 
 popped head and shoulders out of one of the side win- 
 
62 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 dows of the hotel diagonally across the street. The 
 sharp- faced woman fixed sharper eyes on the fat hotel- 
 keeper. 
 
 " You Bill Lainey! " she cried in a voice that matched 
 to perfection her -face and eyes. "You Bill Lainey! 
 You lazy good-for-nothin lummox! If you can stay 
 awake long enough to play hoss-shoes with that drunken 
 sot of a blacksmith, who ain t fit company for a Injun 
 hound to associate with, much less a white man, yo re 
 strong enough to fetch me water an wood. You hear 
 me, you fat scalawag! Slide over here instanter, or I ll 
 shore search out the broom an pat yore face with it ! " 
 
 " There," sighed Bill Lainey, hitching up his trousers, 
 "I knowed I d have a mighty run o bad luck if I come 
 over here instead o sleepin in my chair like I oughta. I 
 knowed it. You hadn t oughta talked so loud, Red. 
 I m a-comin , Lize. I m a-comin ." 
 
 Bill Lainey waddled off across the street. Red Kane 
 winked at Piney Jackson and slouched sidewise in the 
 saddle. 
 
 " C mon now, you drunken sot of a blacksmith," urged 
 Red, " get to work. You ve heard that lady tell yuh what 
 yuh are, only she didn t say half enough. She dunno yuh 
 like I do, y old reeprobate." 
 
 " Gawdamighty," murmured the blacksmith, " she shore 
 can whirl her tongue like you can a rope. I wouldn t be 
 married to her for a good deal, I wouldn t." 
 
 " Not while yore own wife s alive anyhow. That 
 wheel, Piney, huh ? You recollect we was talkin about a 
 wheel, one o them round things with a tire an a felly 
 an a hub an lots o spokes. Folks use em on wagons an 
 buckboards quite a lot. Wheels thataway make em run 
 easier seemin ly. How about it, Piney ? " 
 
 " Yo re as bad as Mis Lainey. I ll git to work imme 
 diate just to keep yuh from talkin me deef. Yo re a 
 fright of an outfit, you fellers. Y always want yore 
 
The Broken Knife 63 
 
 jobs done at once if not sooner. A feller don t get no 
 chance to rest a-tall. All right, all right, I won t fool 
 round another minute. Say, ain t that Old Salt ridin 
 in on the trail?" 
 
 " Shore is, an maybe he won t have somethin to say 
 himself." 
 
 When Mr. Saltoun, Red Kane s employer and owner 
 of the Bar S ranch, came opposite the blacksmith shop, 
 the grindstone within was bravely squealing and the 
 puncher was rolling a cigarette. Mr. Saltoun saw more 
 than the puncher. His brows drew together. He swung 
 his horse toward the cowboy. 
 
 " Howdy, Red," said Mr. Saltoun, reining in in front 
 of the blacksmith shop. " We ve been sort o expectin 
 you back the last four days." 
 
 " I know it," Red returned placidly. " I ve been 
 wantin to come back, but I had to wait for the buck- 
 board." 
 
 " The buckboard ! Whadda yuh mean ? " 
 
 " The buckboard is bust. I gotta wait for Piney to 
 fix her up. He s workin on a wheel now, I guess. 
 Yonder she lays over by the freight wagon." 
 
 Mr. Saltoun regarded the battered vehicle while the 
 veins in his forehead swelled alarmingly. The buck- 
 board was the apple of one eye. The mule-team was the 
 apple of the other. 
 
 " Are the mules hurt ? " he inquired with terrible calm 
 ness. 
 
 " Not a hair twisted the wrong way," was the cheering 
 reply. They re over in Lainey s corral eatin their 
 heads off." 
 
 "How d it happen?" 
 
 " Stage busted a axle, went on the rampage an tore the 
 world apart round here for a spell. Yore buckboard was 
 part o the tear." 
 
 " The stage busted up my buckboard ? " 
 
64 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I m sayin so." 
 
 " They ll ante up for it, by ! I ll show them 
 
 they can t smash my property all to an not pay good 
 
 an plenty! Where s that Buck Saylor? I ll tell him a 
 thing or two! Where ll I find Buck? " 
 
 " There he goes now," said Red, glancing past Mr. 
 Saltoun. " Slid out behind the office some ers. Guess 
 he musta seen yuh comin ." 
 
 Mr. Saltoun, breathing fire and brimstone, spurred 
 away to head off Buck Saylor, and Red Kane leaned back 
 against his cantle and laughed till the tears ran down his 
 cheeks. Poor Buck! Old Salt would surely hang his 
 hide on the fence. 
 
 Red Kane picked up his reins and jogged after Old 
 Salt. The latter had caught Buck Saylor at the corral 
 gate. 
 
 " But it ain t my fault! " Buck was protesting when 
 Red arrived. " How could I help the axle bustin ? I m 
 askin yuh, how could I help it? You act like it was all 
 my fault!" 
 
 "I m gamblin you was careless or somethin you 
 an yore company. Rotten old wore-out stages! Why 
 don t yuh loosen up an buy a new outfit or some dope 
 once in a while so s yore axles ll have a chance? Yo re 
 gonna pay for that buckboard, you an yore company, I 
 tell yuh those ! You just write out my claim right now 
 this minute for two hundred dollars, an " 
 
 " Two hundred dollars ! " Buck Saylor flung outraged 
 hands aloft. " Two hundred dollars ! Why, that squeak 
 
 on wheels o yores wasn t worth three whoops an a 
 
 in counterfeit money. Besides, yo re havin it repaired. 
 Piney Jackson is fixin it up all same new. I seen it down 
 at his blacksmith shop. Two hundred dollars nothin ! 
 I m lookin out for my company, I am, an I won t let yuh 
 put in no such claim as that." 
 
 "What?" bawled Mr. Saltoun, his predatory profile 
 
The Broken Knife 65 
 
 shooting forward. " Do I hear you say you won t lemme 
 do this an that? You won t lemme! You poor coot, 
 you ll do just what I tell yuh in this deal. Yo re lookin 
 out for yore company, huh? Who was it bought them 
 cayuses from me for twenty wheels apiece an then resold 
 em to the company for stage hosses at forty dollars a 
 throw? Who was it, huh? You think I don t know 
 nothin, about that li l business ? Well, I do, you bet, an 
 you can gamble yore company will know any time I get 
 ready to tell em. An you sit up there an blat how yo re 
 a-lookin out for the company ! You got a nerve like a 
 hoss tellin me what to do ! " 
 
 Buck Saylor leaned back against the corral gate. His 
 smile was a pitiable thing as he strove to appear jaunty 
 and affable. 
 
 " Them hosses I sold the company was just a joke," he 
 explained, " just a li l joke. You wouldn t go for to say 
 nothin about it, I know yuh wouldn t. You n me have 
 always been old friends, Saltoun." 
 
 " I dunno whether the company would see the point o 
 the joke as easy as you do, Buck. They was fifty hosses 
 in that bunch, which made one thousand even for you. 
 Do yuh think the company would appreciate a thousand 
 dollars worth o joke even from such a funny feller as 
 you are? Yuh d better make out that two hundred an 
 fifty dollar claim for me, hadn t yuh, Buck? " 
 
 " You said two hundred awhile ago." 
 
 " I changed my mind. I m liable to do that when folks 
 keep me waitin . Are you gonna write out that claim 
 without wastin any more time, or will I have to change 
 my mind again? " 
 
 " The company won t never allow no such claim as that, 
 I know they won t." 
 
 " I know they will cause yo re gonna recommend over 
 yore own signature in that claim that they settle for two 
 hundred an* fifty. When they see how their own agent, 
 
66 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Mister Buck Saylor, feels about it, they ll believe him an 
 pay it. See how it is ? " 
 
 " I see," Buck Saylor groaned in deep bitterness of 
 spirit. " All right, come along." 
 
 Accompanied by Mr. Saltoun, Buck Saylor returned to 
 the express office. Red Kane did not follow. He dis 
 mounted, stepped to where Mr. Saltoun s horse had stood 
 and picked up an object that had been kicked free of the 
 ground by the wheeling horse. 
 
 The object was a dusty two-bladed jack-knife, not a 
 Barlow but the modern blade of Swedish manufacture. 
 The larger blade was broken off two inches from the tang. 
 Red tapped the knife on his heel to rid it of dust, and 
 raised it to his mouth to blow out what remained of the 
 territory s fertile soil. Now he perceived that which had 
 not met his eye at first a thin silver coin caught between 
 the small blade and the side of the knife. With his fin 
 gers he endeavored to pluck out the coin. Vain endeavor. 
 The coin would not pluck. It was wedged fast. He 
 tried his good front teeth and narrowly missed cracking 
 one. 
 
 " This here short bit is plumb stubborn," he muttered, 
 pulling out and opening his own pocket knife. 
 
 With the blade of this implement he contrived to lever 
 the coin from its resting-place. 
 
 The little piece of silver money was a dime, the short 
 bit of that hard-working couple, well and favorably 
 known to all and sundry as Two-Bits. The dime, pierced 
 near the edge by a small hole, pocket-piece fashion, bore 
 a date eleven years old on the reverse. On the obverse 
 the initials B. L., in deep, rough scratches, sprawled across 
 the figure of the seated Liberty. 
 
 " B. L.," murmured Red Kane, and with the ball of his 
 thumb he rubbed clear the little nickel shield riveted on 
 one side of the stained handle. 
 
 There were letters upon the shield too. They had been 
 
The Broken Knife 67 
 
 scratched in even more deeply than in the coin. They 
 were the same letters, B. L. 
 
 " I wonder if Lorimer s front name is Bill," mused 
 Red Kane. 
 
 He dropped knife and dime into a vest pocket and 
 stooped to rake the earth with his fingers at the spot where 
 he had found the knife. He was hunting for the missing 
 portion of the larger knife blade. 
 
 " That break was new," he reflected. " I d like to 
 know what the owner of the knife was tryin to cut." 
 
 He did not find the broken blade, and he stood up and 
 looked about him with keen half-closed eyes. 
 
 " Right there is where they loaded the safe aboard the 
 wagon," he told himself. " An yonder s the express- 
 office door. A feller scamperin round promiscuous be 
 tween them two places could easy lose the jack-knife 
 where I found her." 
 
 " Oh, Red, come here a shake, will yuh? " 
 
 It was Mr. Saltoun who was calling to him from the 
 express-office. Red slouched to the side doorway and 
 entered. 
 
 11 Yeah? " he said inquiringly. 
 
 " I just want yuh to tell Buck what was in the hind end 
 of the buckboard," explained Mr. Saltoun. " They must 
 be somethin else we can charge the company for." 
 
 11 Only a few airtights," said Red. " They wasn t hurt 
 none. Dented, that s all. I hadn t loaded up yet." 
 
 " You d oughta," was Mr. Saltoun s reproof. " But 
 I suppose I gotta be satisfied." 
 
 " Yuh shore gotta," Buck exclaimed in sarcasm. " My 
 
 , Salt, I dunno what yo re raisin cows for. Yo re 
 
 wastin yore life." 
 
 " Think so ? " Mr. Saltoun asked dryly. " I might be 
 sellin hosses to the company, mightn t I ? Never thought 
 o that." 
 
 Buck made no comment but chewed the end of his pen 
 
68 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 with a wry face. Mr. Saltoun pulled at his mustache and 
 rubbed a stubbly chin. 
 
 " I guess we ll let it go at that," he sighed. " Lessee 
 her, Buck." 
 
 Buck handed him the paper and Mr. Saltoun read it 
 through carefully not once but three times. Scotch blood 
 did not flow in his veins for nothing. 
 
 " This ll do fine," said Mr. Saltoun. " Give us yore 
 pen. Red, I wish you d sign this, too. It ll make it 
 stronger. Now, you Buck, slap on yore notary public 
 seal sling on all the dog they is." 
 
 Dog! Red looked up quickly. What had become of 
 Buck Savior s dogs? 
 
 " Djever find yore dogs, Buck ? " he asked. 
 
 " Never did. Dunno where they are. They never did 
 come home after that night. Aw, I guess they was poi 
 soned all right. They d a come home if they was alive." 
 
 Mr. Saltoun carefully blotted the signed and sealed 
 report, and slid it into one of Buck Saylor s official en 
 velopes. 
 
 " I ll mail this myself," he announced, tapping his front 
 teeth with the corner of the envelope and winking at 
 Buck. 
 
 " You don t trust me," said the latter reproachfully. 
 
 " Shore I do," declared Mr. Saltoun. " Trust you a 
 mile. Shore. Why not? It s only yore memory I got 
 doubts of. You know yoreself, Buck, yo re awful for 
 getful, so yuh needn t get riled nohow. C mon over to 
 the Starlight, you an Red, an have a li l smile." 
 
 " In a minute," said Buck, brightening visibly at the 
 invitation. " Soon s I write out my daily report, I m 
 with yuh." 
 
 Mr. Saltoun and Red went outside to wait. There was 
 a bench flanking the side door. They seated themselves 
 upon the bench. Mr. Saltoun sat at the end near the door. 
 Slumping down limply, he leaned his left shoulder against 
 
The Broken Knife 69 
 
 the door jamb. He felt a sharp jab through the flannel 
 of his shirt. He turned, rubbing his shoulder, and found 
 a piece of steel sticking in the wood of the jamb. 
 
 " Fool trick leavin knife blades where they can stick 
 into people," said he and tried to pull it out with his fin 
 gers. 
 
 But the knife had been driven in deeply. Not more 
 than a half-inch of it protruded. 
 
 " Maybe it ain t a knife blade," hazarded Red casually. 
 
 " Shore it is. It s got the li l notch in it for yore fin 
 ger-nail so s yuh can open it easy. Think I don t know a 
 knife blade when I see it? Say, Buck, why don t yuh 
 pick the knife blades out of yore door jambs? " 
 
 " Knife blade? What knife blade? " Buck, inky pen 
 in inkier fingers, came to the door. 
 
 " There," said Mr. Saltoun, pointing. 
 
 Instantly Buck Saylor became active. He dropped his 
 pen, rummaged through the cluttered contents of a tool 
 box beneath the office table and returned with a pair of 
 pliers. 
 
 Red watched with calculating interest as the express 
 agent pulled out the knife blade. 
 
 " I remember now," said Buck Saylor, " hearin one o 
 them thieves cussin how he d busted his knife. This 
 must be the blade. It s a clue." 
 
 " Har ! Har ! " Red s laugh was deeply contemptuous. 
 " All you gotta do is find the gent who owns the rest o 
 the knife." 
 
 " Well," returned the agent, " it ll help, maybe. You 
 never can tell." 
 
 " Yuh never can," grinned Red. " Lessee that blade." 
 
 Red took the blade to a front window as if to give it 
 the benefit of more light. Buck returned to his report. 
 Red, his back to the agent, fished from his pocket the 
 knife he had found. Without attracting the slightest at 
 tention from the absorbed agent he managed to open the 
 
jo Lynch Lawyers 
 
 knife and piece together the two parts of the broken blade. 
 They fitted exactly. 
 
 Red s eyebrows straightened in a frown ; then he smiled 
 briefly and unobtrusively returned the jack-knife to his 
 pocket. He remained at the window, looking into the 
 street and juggling the broken blade in the palm of his 
 hand. 
 
 " She s a queer world," he said aloud at the end of 
 three minutes silent contemplation of life on Main Street. 
 
 " Huh? " Buck Saylor abstractedly looked up from his 
 work. 
 
 " Nothin . I was just talkin . Here s yore knife 
 blade, Buck." 
 
 The bit of steel tinkled down on the table, and Red 
 Kane went outside and joined his employer on the bench. 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 
 LANPHER 
 
 " I WANT the 88 s money ! " Lanpher stated in no un 
 certain tones. 
 
 " Yuh ll have to take it out in wantin then," Buck Say- 
 lor yawned indifferently, only too happy to show the 
 world without that he was not to be bluffed by the 88 
 manager. 
 
 He even winked brazenly at Mr. Saltoun, who, with 
 Red Kane and as many of the world without as could 
 crowd in, fairly filled the express office. 
 
 " The company will have to pay," cried Lanpher, who 
 had observed the wink, " an don t you forget it ! " 
 
 " They will not," was the prompt retort. " The ten 
 thousand wasn t insured." 
 
 " What? " Lanpher screeched. 
 
 " I said yore money wasn t insured." Buck leaned 
 back in his chair, thumbs hooked in the armholes of his 
 vest, enjoying to the full the effect of his statement on 
 Lanpher. 
 
 " Not insured ! " Lanpher s skin went green beneath the 
 tan. 
 
 " Cheer up, Lanpher," urged the marshal. " Whadda 
 you care? You won t lose nothin . You hadn t given 
 no receipt for the money, had yuh? Well, then, the 
 party sendin yuh the coin will have to stand the loss." 
 
 " An that s my company the folks that own the 
 ranch. They was sendin me the money to buy cows 
 with. An now it s gone. Somethin s gotta be done. 
 
72 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Buck, even if that money wasn t insured, what right you 
 got to sit round like a bump on a log with my money 
 flittin Gawd knows where? Sno use tellin me yo re 
 sorry. What do I care whether yo re sorry or not? It 
 don t get my money back. An I want it back. You hear 
 me! Yo re a fine express agent, lettin them bandits 
 prance down on yuh an tie yuh all up. Why don t yuh 
 do somethin , huh? Tell me that. Why don t yuh do 
 somethin ? " 
 
 " Why don t I do somethin ? " bawled Buck, red-faced 
 and temperish. " Why don t I do somethin ? Which I 
 did do somethin . Which we all did somethin . 
 We " 
 
 And Buck went on to tell of what had been done in 
 quest of the stolen money. 
 
 Lanpher, gnawing his thin, protruding upper lip, lis 
 tened in silence. When Buck ceased speaking, the ratlike 
 countenance of the 88 manager was mottled by an ugly 
 wrath. 
 
 " That nester! " he burst out, sliding round in his 
 
 chair to face the assemblage. " He come through my 
 ranch, an I warned him to keep away from this country. 
 I told him he d be sorry for his health if he fooled round 
 these parts. An he s throwed down by Sweetwater, has 
 he? An allows he s gonna ranch it, does he? Ranch 
 it nothin . We don t want no such ranchers round here. 
 What happens soon as he comes, huh? What happens, 
 gents? The express office is robbed, the safe an express 
 box full o money is packed off fifty thousand dollars, 
 gents an the stage is held up. Don t tell me this 
 nester had nothin to do with it. I seen him, an he looks 
 like a criminal. An he wears two guns. What s he 
 want two guns for if he s straight? I tell yuh he knows 
 somethin about what s goin on, an yuh can stick a pin 
 in that." 
 
 " Y betcha! " said the worthy Mr. Lenn, Mr. Durkin s 
 
Lanpher 73 
 
 boon comrade. " I knowed from the start that nester 
 was a bad actor." 
 
 " Shore ! " corroborated Mr. Dill, known as Pickles 
 among his associates. " I wanted to hang him," he added 
 virtuously. 
 
 " Who gave you license to stretch people? " rapped out 
 Red Kane, unable to contain himself longer. " Any- 
 body d think you was the sheriff. You an a lot o gents 
 like you are just too handy with a rope till it comes to 
 workin with it for forty a month, an then you get a lame 
 arm or a misery in yore stummick." 
 
 " Nemmine about who gimme license," was the limp 
 ing return of Pickles Dill. " I wanna see justice done, 
 an I ain t the only one wants to see it neither." 
 
 " Yeah," sneered Red. " They s quite a bunch of 
 you fellers, but so far yore mixin in to shove justice 
 along hasn t helped yuh a whole lot ! Take Durkin now. 
 How s his head? An Cox. Can he use his arm com 
 fortable yet? You can easy see how it is, Pickles. A 
 gent wants to be mighty careful how he slams round 
 helpin out justice. Whadda you guess? " 
 
 Red Kane looked hard at Pickles Dill. The men sur 
 rounding the latter felt an immediate distaste for his in 
 timate vicinity and moved elsewhere. Pickles was not a 
 coward, that is, with most men he was brave enough. 
 But he was not brave enough to join issue with Red 
 Kane. Taking a chance was one thing. But going after 
 his gun against Red Kane would not be even taking a 
 chance. It would be plain, unadorned suicide, that 
 species of self-destruction which leads the friends of the 
 deceased to remark, " The poor fool. Didn t he know no 
 better?" 
 
 Pickles Dill refused the fence with all the dignity he 
 could squeeze out. 
 
 " We all got our opinions o what s what," said Pickles 
 Dill. 
 
74 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Which is one right sensible answer," was Red Kane s 
 endorsement. 
 
 " But it don t get nowhere," put in Lanpher, who should 
 have known better. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Red Kane softly, his red hair bristling 
 under his hat. " Oh, yes. It don t get nowhere. Is 
 they any particular place you was wantin it to go ? " 
 
 "Are you tryin to shield this here nester?" Thus 
 the 88 manager evaded one question by asking another. 
 
 " Shield him from what ? What s he done that I gotta 
 shield him from? Tell me what s he done? " 
 
 " If this Lorimer is one o the road agents an I m 
 free to admit his driftin in right before the robberies is 
 mighty suspicious, an I ll leave it to the rest o you gents 
 if it ain t if he is one of em like I think an say, then 
 he d oughta be stretched, an , if he ain t one of em, he s 
 a nester an out to get rich at our expense like all the rest 
 of em. Why, gents, the nesters in this country is gettin 
 worse than the itch. What they don t steal, they spoil. 
 They re worse n sheep. We cattlemen gotta stick to 
 gether, an " 
 
 " You bet we have," shouted " Spunk " Lenn. " The 
 nesters must go." 
 
 "Since when have you been a cattleman, Spunk?" 
 Red Kane desired to know. " Last I heard, an that was 
 yesterday, you was tendin bar at the dance-hall. We 
 cattlemen, huh? Yo re funny." 
 
 Spunk Lenn subsided like a pricked balloon. Lan 
 pher glared at Red Kane. The latter stared back. Lan 
 pher was the first to drop his eyes. 
 
 " You wasn t finished when Spunk stuck his horn in," 
 suggested Red. " Le s hear the rest." 
 
 " I was just gonna say that a whole lot o jiggers have 
 been lynched good an plenty on less suspicion than they is 
 against this nester. Somebody s gotta be lynched for 
 what s happened." 
 
Lanpher 75 
 
 " Gotta? " chipped in Mr. Saltoun, who detested Lan 
 pher and all his works. " Why gotta? " 
 
 " I meant oughta," replied Lanpher with a facial con 
 tortion that made him more than ever resemble a rat. 
 " You know yoreself nesters ain t got no business in this 
 country." 
 
 " Them Dale folks down there at Moccasin Spring is 
 fine neighbors," continued Mr. Saltoun with a wintry 
 smile. " They was nesters, an Chuck Morgan married 
 the girl." 
 
 Lanpher glowered and gnawed his upper lip. He re 
 called quite well that Chuck Morgan had married the 
 daughter of the nester Dale. Nor had he forgotten the 
 beating he had suffered at the hands of the Bar S puncher, 
 the Kid s Twin. Still bright in his memory glistened 
 the fact of Mr. Saltoun s having, on that memorable oc 
 casion, thrown down on him with a six-shooter. Never, 
 while he lived, would Mr. Lanpher be able to forget these 
 occurrences. But he habitually forced himself and 
 the forcing was not arduous either to ignore the little 
 misunderstandings of the past. Lanpher, the artful 
 logician, reasoned that his prime duty was toward his em 
 ployers. Who was he to allow his personal differences 
 to interfere with their interests, especially when the said 
 differences were with such a reckless, straight-shooting 
 outfit as the Bar S boys ? 
 
 So Lanpher ceased to glower and gnaw, and achieved 
 a fair imitation of a smile. This deceived neither Red 
 nor Mr. Saltoun. They knew the man inside and out. 
 
 " We gotta do something" persisted Lanpher. " You 
 can see that, gents." 
 
 " What, for instance? " Red Kane shot the question at 
 him like a bullet. 
 
 " Well, now " hesitated Lanpher. 
 
 " Short o goin out an stretchin a innocent man, you 
 got nothin to suggest, Lanpher, an you know it." Red 
 
7 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 leveled a lean left forefinger at the 88 manager. " I 
 dunno what yore li l game is, but I don t like it. You hear 
 me. I don t like it." 
 
 " Whadda yuh mean?" Lanpher half rose from his 
 chair. 
 
 Chill fear twanged his heartstrings. He did not want 
 to fight, and Red was manifestly striving to provoke him. 
 Pride spurred on the wretched Bobadil and clawed at the 
 tags of his frayed courage. Red s smile was as chilly as 
 Lanpher s fear as he replied : 
 
 "If you don t know what I mean, guess." 
 
 " Le s not do no guessin ," suggested the voice of Kan 
 sas Casey who had entered unperceived by Lanpher and 
 his audience. " Whatsa use?" went on the deputy in 
 his most persuasive tone. " We re all li l friends to 
 gether, ain t we? Shore we are. Besides, if any gent 
 does start gettin smoky, I ll do what I can to stop him." 
 
 Kansas, talking all the time, pushed his way through 
 the crowd and halted beside Red Kane. He rested his 
 hands on his hips and looked down at Buck Saylor where 
 he sat slouched in his chair behind the table. 
 
 " I found yore dogs, Buck," he announced. 
 
 "Where was they?" queried the agent, frowning. 
 " Fine kind o watch-dogs, they was," he added, heavily 
 contemptuous. 
 
 " Yuh needn t bother about em no more," Kansas told 
 him. " They was both dead." 
 
 " Dead ! " Buck Saylor cried, leaping out of his chair 
 with such force that it fell over with a crash. " Dead! 
 My dogs dead! Yo re yo re shore they was my 
 dogs ? " he added, doubt and hope combined wrinkling his 
 not over-clean features. 
 
 " I d know yore dogs anywhere," Kansas Casey de 
 clared with finality. " I knowed em soon s I see em 
 spread out under a cedar in that timber south o Squaw 
 Draw. They was a rope through their collars, an they d 
 
Lanpher 77 
 
 been tied to the cedar. They was shot with .45s, by the 
 size of the holes. I couldn t find the bullets. She s 
 kind o hot weather now, an anythin dead don t keep 
 very well, but I judged they d cashed maybe four days 
 ago." 
 
 Buck Saylor did not seem to hear what the deputy was 
 saying. He leaned forward and rested closed fists on the 
 table top. 
 
 " I liked them dogs," he ground out, gazing straight 
 before him. "I raised them from pups, I did, an I 
 taught em to roll over an play dead, an beg an bark 
 when they wanted out or in. They was gentle as kittens 
 with me, an I wouldn t a had nothin happen to em for 
 a whole lot. My dogs ! I Where did yuh say they 
 was, Kansas? Timber south o Squaw Draw, huh? 
 Gents, yuh ll have to adjourn some ers else. I gotta go 
 bury them dogs." 
 
 From the express office the component parts of the 
 crowd drifted in various directions. In the main they 
 gravitated to the several saloons. 
 
 Lanpher stood alone on the sidewalk and watched Kan 
 sas Casey shepherding Red Kane and Mr. Saltoun into 
 the Happy Heart. Nobody had asked Lanpher to drink. 
 Nobody, unless ax-grinding was in view, ever did ask 
 him. He was far from being a congenial spirit. He was 
 aware of this and was more pleased thereby than other 
 wise. Drinking in company carried no appeal. He 
 greatly preferred taking his bottle to bed with him and 
 tippling in solitude. 
 
 He went down to the Starlight Saloon and bought two 
 quart bottles one of corn whisky, the other of rye. 
 These he carried to his horse and packed tenderly in the 
 saddlebags. 
 
 He mounted and started homeward, his brain busy with 
 his wrongs. The money consigned to him was gone, 
 and gone for good and all, apparently ; because the money 
 
7 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 was gone, the cattle deal he had arranged must fall 
 through, and he would lose the bonus of one thousand 
 dollars promised him by his company. One thousand 
 dollars! No wonder Lanpher squirmed as though the 
 saddle-leather burned him. And his old enemy, the Bar 
 S, through Red Kane, had flouted him again. 
 
 The Bar S outfit was always picking on him, meddling 
 in his affairs, and trying to make trouble regardless. 
 Why should Red Kane and Mr. Saltoun champion the 
 nester Lorimer? What business was it of theirs, he d 
 like to know. Nesters had no right to live, the bush 
 whacking rustlers. Lynching was too good for them, 
 and in particular was it too good for Lorimer, this man 
 who had defied him to his face before his own ranch- 
 house door and sworn he d take up a homestead wherever 
 he wished. Now it would seem that Lorimer had kept 
 his word. 
 
 It was true that Sweetwater Mountain lay not on the 88 
 range but on that belonging to the Cross-in-a-box. Yet 
 this did not in the least ameliorate Lorimer s offense. 
 Lorimer should have moved on, gone out of the country 
 when ordered so to do. This he had certainly not done. 
 It was too much. It was not to be borne by a ranch 
 manager with a mark to make in the world. 
 
 Moreover, the nester probably knew a good deal about 
 the robberies. His arrival and their occurrence could 
 not be fortuitous. No doubt he was the leader of the 
 gang. He had looked capable of almost any villainy. 
 Kansas Casey and that idiotic posse! Lanpher didn t 
 believe they d half searched the nester s ranch, or prop 
 erly questioned him either. He wished he d been there, 
 so he did. He wouldn t have bungled everything. 
 
CHAPTER TEN 
 
 " HEY, BOYS, UP GO WE ! " 
 
 IN the glory of the sunset the 88 cook stood and 
 scratched his shoulder blades against the grateful corner 
 of the cook-shack. As a back-scratcher the corner of a 
 house is only excelled by a post with the bark on. The 
 cook rolled ecstatic eyes heavenward. Tom Bowling, 
 straddling one end of the washbench, gravely watched the 
 cook. 
 
 " When I look at you doin that," remarked Tom 
 Bowling, "I get homesick. I had a hawg once the 
 cutest li l feller he was, with a curly tail an everythin 
 an he d scratch himself just like that, only, o course, he 
 never rared up on his hind legs. He always stood on all 
 fours. Cookie, lessee you stand on all fours. Now I 
 won t go there neither. Bill, whadda you think o Cookie 
 talkin like that? Tain t right, is it? " 
 
 "No," replied Bill Allen, the freckle-faced puncher 
 occupying the other end of the washbench, " no, Cookie 
 oughtn t to talk thataway. It s shockin . Le s teach 
 Cookie manners. You injun up on him in front an I ll 
 injun round behind him ; then, while he s a-kickin at you, 
 I ll grab him." 
 
 The cook retreated rapidly to the cook-shack door, 
 reached within and possessed himself of a stick of stove- 
 wood. 
 
 " You lemme be," he advised them earnestly, " you 
 lemme be, or I ll shore whang you with this here. I don t 
 mind foolin , but the last time you done wrastled with me 
 
80 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 my watch got stepped on, an it ain t acted right since. 
 Besides Aw look, they s Lanpher a-comin an I 
 gotta sling his grub together." 
 
 The cook pettishly slammed the stove-wood stick into 
 a far corner and began to fill the coffeepot. 
 
 "Lanpher is shore feelin rumdumptious," observed 
 Tom Bowling, squinting at the approaching horseman. 
 
 " Sore as a bear about somethin ," said Bill Allen. 
 " Bet he ll have us a-cuttin wood or hay to-morrow. He 
 always does that when his ol liver ain t right." 
 
 They watched the gloomy Lanpher strip his mount, 
 turn the horse loose and go into the ranchhouse, dragging 
 saddle and saddlebags. 
 
 " Got a bottle, maybe two, in them bags," was the sage 
 pronouncement of Tom Bowling. " Look how careful 
 he packed em in." 
 
 " Shore," assented Bill Allen. " But if we brought a 
 bottle back with us, that would be somethin else again. I 
 guess so. We d get our time, y betcha." 
 
 " He carries it good, I ll say that for him," said Tom 
 Bowling. " Outside o bein crankier n usual, you d 
 never know it next day." 
 
 " Alia same, the old tanglefoot is beginnin to ride him. 
 His nose is startin to show a li l red round the edges, an 
 his appetite ain t what it was. He drinks more coffee, 
 too. I know. I ve watched him." 
 
 " Here he comes now." Tom Bowling gave his friend 
 a warning nudge. 
 
 Lanpher nodded surlily to the two punchers as he 
 crossed from the ranchhouse to the dining room built 
 against the north end of the cook-shack. At the door 
 Lanpher paused and half turned. 
 
 " Tom," said he, " you n Bill better cut wood to-mor 
 row. Take Slim an Rockwell along to help. Tell the 
 rest of the boys the grass on the flat is high enough to 
 cut an they might s well get at it." 
 
"Hey, Boys, Up Go We" 81 
 
 Lanpher took his morose self on into the dining room 
 and called for coffee and bread and butter. He didn t 
 feel like eating any meat. It was too hot. Helluva 
 country to live in. Man might as well sit in an oven and 
 be done with it. He d rather, if anybody should ask him. 
 
 " Told yuh we d have to cut wood or hay," grunted 
 Bill Allen. " Our luck is shore out. Listen to him tellin 
 Cookie how good the coffee is not. If I was Cookie, 
 I d tell him where to go just too quick. Cookie s too 
 good-natured with him. Where yuh goin , Tom? " 
 
 " I m gonna get the cross-cut an hide it where Slim 
 an Rockwell can t lay their paws on it first," was the 
 answer. " Me, I don t care nothin about usin a ax." 
 
 In the dining room, a lighted lamp before him, Lanpher 
 sat long over his coffee and bread. He ate no more than 
 two slices of the bread, but he drank seven cups of black 
 coffee. At the meal s end he rolled and lit a cigarette 
 and went back through the soft darkness to the ranch- 
 house. 
 
 This night he did not follow custom by going to bed 
 with his bottle. Instead, he seated himself in the chair 
 behind the table he used as a desk, stuck up his feet on 
 the table top and held the bottle in his lap. 
 
 He had not lit the lamp. For there were no window 
 shades, and it would never do for the outfit to see him 
 drinking. He utterly failed to realize that what they did 
 not actually know they guessed at quite shrewdly. 
 
 Thus he sat solitary in the dark, smoking and drink 
 ing. A long slow draw at a cigarette and a slower exhale 
 would be followed by a healthy pull at the bottle-neck. 
 Puff and swallow, puff and swallow, while the hours slid 
 away to the ticking of the alarm clock on the shelf above 
 Lanpher s head. 
 
 Now a man with an educated stomach may drink a 
 quart of whisky and become no more than lightly jingled, 
 provided he takes his time in the business. 
 
8 2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Lanpher took his first swallow of corn whisky a few 
 minutes after ten o clock. He gulped down the last drop 
 in the bottle at half -past one in the morning. Remained 
 the other bottle, that containing the rye. 
 
 Lanpher had intended to hold over the second bottle for 
 another evening, but his hand touched its smooth side as 
 he put away the empty. His fingers hesitatingly closed 
 round the neck of the second bottle. Why not crowd 
 two evenings into one and make a regular night of it for 
 once ? Why not have one more drink at least ? A short 
 swallow, a mere tongue-wetting? 
 
 Lanpher gripped the full bottle firmly and carried it 
 with him to his chair. 
 
 During the tippling of the first bottle, the sense of 
 ill usage that had afflicted Lanpher since his departure 
 from Farewell had dwindled and died. A pleasant feel 
 ing of friendliness for the world at large had taken its 
 place. Even the nester Lorimer and Red Kane were no 
 longer Lanpher s enemies. They had their faults, nat 
 urally, but it was a free country, live and let live, bear 
 and forbear this was the way to get along. Quite so. 
 
 But the first drink of the rye made Lanpher consumedly 
 thirsty for another. A second swallow, a third, two 
 gulps in succession, and Lanpher s state of mellow bon 
 homie vanished in a breath. A vile and ugly humor took 
 its place. Which humor grew by degrees viler and 
 uglier. 
 
 By three o clock in the morning the floor of the room 
 was thickly strewn with dead cigarette butts, high tide 
 in the bottle was half-way down the label, and Lanpher 
 was fairly seething with the bitter realization of his 
 wrongs. He hated the Bar S, Old Man Saltoun, Red 
 Kane and the nester above all Lorimer the nester. 
 
 Lanpher set the bottle-neck to his lips. When he took 
 it away, he puffed his cigarette to a bright glow and held 
 it behind the bottle. 
 
Hey, Boys, Up Go We" 83 
 
 " Not more n three drinks left," he said aloud. 
 " Nearly two quarts, an I ain t drunk yet. Hand s just 
 as steady." 
 
 He held the cigarette at arm s length to prove it. The 
 glowing spark hung motionless. Lanpher did not know 
 that his intoxication was mainly mental. But he knew 
 that a great strength and a greater courage permeated his 
 being. He felt strong enough to lift a horse, and he was 
 afraid of nothing. For the Bar S, its owner and punch 
 ers, he did not give a single damn. Should any or all of 
 that rousy outfit attempt to jump sidewise at him he would 
 show them what was what. He, Lanpher of the 88, 
 would run them off the range so far they d need four 
 years to ride back. They had run blazers on him long 
 enough. He d stand no more nonsense from them, and 
 he called on his Maker to bear witness that he wouldn t. 
 As to that nester, Lorimer, the man who had helped steal 
 the ten thousand dollars belonging to the 88, the man 
 who had skinned him out of his bonus, as to that unmen 
 tionable dog, he would die the death. 
 
 "I ll hang him, by !" Lanpher snarled. " I ll 
 
 burn his shack an his wagons an run off his stock. That 
 daughter o his can cash for all I care. She s got no 
 business havin a daddy like hers." 
 
 Nearly two quarts of indifferent whisky will shatter 
 almost any human being s sense of proportion. Lanpher 
 picked up the bottle and made it an even two quarts. 
 
 He lowered the bottle, held it to his ear and shook it, 
 but he could hear no answering guggle and swash. He 
 regretfully set the bottle down and wished for another. 
 Luckily there was no other nearer than Farewell. No 
 man may tuck away three quarts of raw liquor at a sit 
 ting and continue on top of ground. 
 
 It struck him that the windows and doorway were 
 beginning to stand out grayly against the darkness. The 
 day was coming. Lanpher went to the doorway and 
 
84 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 looked out. A faint lemon-yellow streaked low in the 
 east. Across the way a sudden sharp flare of light out 
 lined the windows of the cook-shack. Cookie had arisen. 
 
 Lanpher went outside. He filled his lungs with the 
 clean-washed air of dawn and licked his thin lips cat- 
 fashion. He walked to the corral and back without a 
 perceptible stagger. Continually he ran a hand through 
 his tousled hair. In all that he did he was conscious of 
 no physical effort. 
 
 " I guess the boys won t do no wood-cuttin to-day," 
 he said to himself. " No, I guess not." 
 
 At breakfast the men of the outfit noticed that their 
 manager s eyes were over-bright, his face and nose over- 
 red and his tongue over-talkative. They considered it a 
 peculiar species of hang-over, but, after all, it was his 
 own affair. When the first man to finish piled his cup 
 and plate and pushed them from him, Lanpher leaned 
 forward, his face sharp-drawn and eager. 
 
 " No wood-cuttin to-day, boys," he said in a voice that 
 was the least bit thick. " We re gonna go an call on 
 that nester that sifted through here awhile ago him 
 with the two wagons an the female daughter. The one 
 I told to git an he wouldn t. He s took root over at 
 Sweet water Mountain, We re gonna take our ropes 
 along an we re gonna stretch him." 
 
 The punchers looked at Lanpher in amazed silence. 
 What was the matter with him? Why couldn t he let 
 the poor devil of a nester alone? Sweetwater Mountain 
 was over on the Cross-in-a-box range anyway. Let Jack 
 Ritchie and his men attend to the intruder. Besides, the 
 nester s daughter w r as remarkably pretty. They were 
 exceedingly human, these punchers of the 88. 
 
 " What yuh wanna stretch him for? " asked Tom Dow- 
 ling. 
 
 " Because he knows who stole fifty thousand dollars 
 from the express company, an he won t tell. Ten thou- 
 
Hey, Boys, Up Go We" 85 
 
 sand dollars of it was money consigned to me to buy 
 cattle with. Ten thousand wheels. An this jigger won t 
 open his yap. He ll stand hangin ." 
 
 " I should remark ! " cried Rockwell, swinging his legs 
 over the bench. 
 
 " Bet yuh," was Slim Mack s endorsement, as Slim 
 followed suit. 
 
 " Why ain t he been lynched already by the Farewell 
 bunch?" queried shrewd Tom Bowling. "Don t they 
 know about it? " 
 
 " Shore they do," declared Lanpher, flashing his ro 
 dent-like grin on Tom Bowling. " Shore they do, but 
 Kansas Casey won t let em do nothin till they get more 
 proof. But me, I got proof enough. I know he s a 
 coyote an a road agent, an I know he knows all about 
 that money. Why, gents, he even had some o the gold 
 in his pocket. They found part of it on him, an Kansas 
 
 says it ain t enough evidence yet. By , it s enough 
 
 for me!" 
 
 Judging by the expeditious manner in which they left 
 the dining room and broke for the corrals, it was enough 
 for them also. 
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 THE WARNING 
 
 WHEN Red Kane came out of the Happy Heart the 
 dust of Lanpher s going, quiescent in the windless air, 
 hung above the southern trail. 
 
 " Wonder if Lanpher has drifted," said Red Kane. 
 
 " Nemmine wonderin about Lanpher," was the advice 
 of Kansas Casey, " or you an me an Old Salt ll have to 
 traipse right back inside an belly the bar again. I ain t 
 gonna have no gunplay in Farewell to-day, Red, nor 
 to-morrow neither. You let Lanpher be, like a good 
 feller." 
 
 " Puttin her thataway," Red grumbled, " they s only 
 one thing to do. But yo re takin a lot on yourself, Kan 
 sas. I dunno as I like it. Maybe I d feel better if we 
 hopped in an asked the barkeep the time o day once 
 more. How about it ? " 
 
 " No, not another one," Mr. Saltoun replied firmly. 
 " I wish you d go down to the blacksmith shop, Red, an 
 ride herd on that lazy, no-account Piney Jackson till he 
 gets the buckboard fixed. He s a-layin down on the job. 
 I ve knowed him since General Forsyth s fight on the Re 
 publican, an he ain t changed a mite. Not a mite. An 
 look here, Red, yo re a good puncher an a hard worker 
 an I like yuh a lot, but I m with Kansas in this Lanpher 
 business. Don t go projectin round huntin trouble with 
 him if he s still in town. The Bar S is gettin along right 
 peaceable lately with the 88, an business is so good I 
 don t want it bothered." 
 
The Warning 87 
 
 " You was talkin up to him yoreself," complained Red. 
 
 " I wasn t lookin for a fight." 
 
 " Me neither. What do I wanna go fightin for? I m 
 peaceable. I don t carry no chips on my shoulder or 
 nothin . I like Lanpher. I wouldn t wish him no harm 
 for a lot." 
 
 " Shore, I know all about that, Red. We all know 
 yo re a li l he-lamb. What yuh snickerin at, Kansas? 
 Don t yuh mind him, Red. He can t help it, the poor 
 feller. Before I forget it, Tim Page wants a new pair 
 of leather cuffs an a green silk handkerchief, a big one. 
 Here s the money. I d get em myself, only Mike s out 
 some ers an Miss Blythe dunno where the cuffs are, an 
 I gotta drag it. I been wastin time round here long 
 enough. An , Red, if Piney gets the buckboard fixed 
 before the stage pulls in, wait till after an get the mail." 
 
 Piney was finishing the last spoke when Red entered 
 the blacksmith shop and took a precarious seat on the 
 edge of the cooling-tub. 
 
 " Yuh d oughta have her done to-night," said Red 
 hopefully, eying the amount of completed work. 
 
 " Done nothin ," returned Piney with an oily smile. 
 :< Yo re lucky if yuh get that there buckboard to-morrow 
 night. Why, Red, yuh d be surprised at the size o this 
 job. They s always somethin new croppin up. I 
 thought this mornin when I seen the fifth wheel had a 
 crack that they wasn t no more damage, but now, Red 
 an I was surprised too, cause I d looked it over real care 
 ful now, this afternoon, I found I gotta make two 
 new nave-bands an a understrap. Them nave-bands 
 gotta be fitted careful, yuh know, Red. That s one job 
 
 I can t hurry Huh? Me slow? Well, I shore 
 
 like that. Which yo re the hardest gent to please I ever 
 did see. An me a-slavin like a Turk this weather so s 
 to finish up for yuh. I had to make all new fellys too, 
 Red. It wasn t only the spokes. An I s pose you think 
 
8 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 I didn t have no shoein to do. This buckboard ain t the 
 only thing I live for, nawsir. Had two mules an a hoss 
 to-day awready. If yuh wanna make yoreself useful, 
 Red, s pose you hop out an light up a round fire to heat 
 this tire. That s just s posin yo re in a hurry. Me, I 
 don t care how long it takes. I m good-natured, I am. 
 I don t holler an fret cause other folks ain t got six or 
 seven arms an legs apiece an turn out work a mile a 
 minute. I m reasonable. Did yuh say le s go have a 
 drink, Red?" 
 
 " I did not! " shouted the exasperated Red. " I said 
 le s get this buckboard fixed an be quick about it ! Why 
 don t yuh make a new one an be done with it? " 
 
 " I would if I thought Old Salt d pay the bill. Honest, 
 a new buckboard wouldn t hurt him none, the tightwad." 
 
 " Nemmine whether he s a tightwad or not," cried Red 
 loyally. " He don t run up a slashin big bill for nothin 
 but a measly old wheel or two an some busted wrought 
 iron. Yeah, I mean you, y old fraud. Be ready with 
 that tire. I ll have yore fire in two shakes." 
 
 Tom Kane came along while the tire was heating. 
 
 " Learnin to be a blacksmith, Red? " he asked of his 
 now smutty-faced brother. 
 
 " Naw, I m learnin Piney to be one. Lordy, Tom, the 
 ignorance o this feller is shore pitiful. But he s comin 
 along. He ll make a hand some day. Yessir, it wouldn t 
 surprise me none if inside six months he ll be able to tell 
 the difference between a rasp an the forehammer. Don t 
 yuh think so yoreself, Piney?" 
 
 " I think this tire s about right," grinned Piney. 
 " Grab them long-handled pincers, Reddy, old settler, an 
 we ll swing her over on the wheel. Ready now." 
 
 " There," said Red, surveying the properly tired wheel 
 four minutes later, " that s what I call a reg lar job. 
 Couldn t be no better if I d a done it all myself. How 
 about them nave-bands now, Piney? " 
 
The Warning 89 
 
 But Piney was squinting northward along the dusty 
 length of Main Street. A rider was coming into town, 
 his tall gray horse single-footing wearily. Above the 
 patter of the horse s hoofs sounded the double click of a 
 loose shoe. 
 
 " No nave-bands yet awhile, Red," said Piney Jack 
 son. " Yonder s a customer a-comin . Hear that loose 
 shoe clackin on the near fore, an the off fore ain t got 
 none a-tall, an " 
 
 " An the hoss has two hairs missin out of his tail 
 besides," interrupted Red, " an is seven-year-old comin 
 eight, an the feller a-ridin him has got a blond-headed 
 wife an four children, all girls, one of em cross-eyed. 
 You d oughta be a fortune teller, Piney." 
 
 " Anyway, that hoss ain t shod behind neither," Piney 
 declared resentfully. 
 
 " That s a easy guess," said Red, " they ain t many 
 round here shoes behind." 
 
 The rider on the gray came straight to the blacksmith 
 shop and dismounted. He was a stranger, this rider, 
 slim-bodied, with wide shoulders and a wide, unsmiling 
 mouth. 
 
 " The li l hoss cast a shoe this mornin ," said the 
 stranger to Piney, " an he s fixin to cast the other, I 
 guess. Anybody ahead o me? " 
 
 " Only a wagon job," replied the blacksmith, taking 
 the gray s bridle. " Hosses always come first. Want 
 him shod behind? Them hoofs are kind o beginnin to 
 chip a li l bit." 
 
 " Might s well shoe him all round," nodded the 
 stranger. " Shoe him medium, heavy. He ll stand it. 
 He s no daisy-cutter." 
 
 He nodded again, turned abruptly and headed across 
 the street toward the Starlight Saloon. 
 
 " Rawhide hoss," said Tom Kane, his critical eyes 
 sweeping over the gray s build. 
 
go Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Too long-legged," was Red s verdict. 
 
 " Got a corn comin ," vouchsafed the blacksmith, who, 
 the near fore between his knees, was wrenching off the 
 shoe with the pincers. " An I got just one bar shoe his 
 size left in the place. Hope the other foot s all right. 
 Damfi wanna make another bar shoe." 
 
 " Why don t yuh cut away the outside wall an use a 
 plain shoe? " suggested Red, anxious to expedite matters 
 as much as possible. 
 
 " That would be just about what you d do ! " Piney ex 
 claimed in fine scorn. " But when a hoss goes out of here, 
 he s shod proper, lemme tell yuh. I ll cut away the horn 
 o the outside wall all right, an I ll shoe with a bar shoe 
 so s the frog takes the weight. A plain shoe, huh! I 
 never tacked a plain shoe on a hoss with corns yet, an 
 I ain t gonna begin now. Why, in the Sioux campaign 
 o 69 I ve knowed General Forsyth to peg out a black 
 smith for gettin brash with hosses feet thataway. Just 
 before the fight on the Republican River, an Old Salt ll 
 tell yuh the same he was there, too just before that 
 f raycas " 
 
 " C mon, Tom," Red Kane besought in mock alarm, 
 plucking his brother by the sleeve. " Piney s gonna plant 
 them Injuns again. He dunno the war s over. C mon 
 before we lose our arms an legs." 
 
 They departed, laughing, followed by much earnest 
 abuse hurled by the irritated blacksmith. 
 
 " Good feller, Piney," said Red Kane, turning into the 
 Starlight. 
 
 " Shore," assented Tom, " only he can t never forget 
 he used to fork a army tree. The bottle with the saw- 
 buck," he told the bartender, " an trot out a box o yore 
 cigars." 
 
 " The best," supplemented Red. " No cabbages nor 
 ol rope neither for us two li l orphans." 
 
 Red Kane, a cigar in the corner of his mouth, cupped 
 
The Warning 91 
 
 his right hand round his glass and leaned comfortably 
 against the bar. 
 
 At the other end of the bar stood the slim-bodied, wide- 
 shouldered stranger. He paid no attention to any of the 
 other customers. With the bottom of his whisky glass 
 he was making little wet rings on the surface of the bar. 
 Occasionally he would draw long and deeply at the 
 cigarette hanging from his lower lip and slowly blow 
 out the smoke through his nostrils. 
 
 Red, regarding him casually, perceived that which had 
 at first escaped his attention the stranger had inor 
 dinately small feet. Red s own feet, in common with 
 those of most cowboys, were not large, but the stranger s 
 were a deal smaller. No woman need have been ashamed 
 to take the size boot he wore. 
 
 Red s idle eyes became aware that the stranger s boots 
 were an excellent pair, well made and nearly new. The 
 heels were straight, square-set. About the spurs there was 
 no touch of silver-inlaid fancy work. They were plain, 
 hand-forged steel spurs, with rowels larger than usually 
 prevailed on the northern ranges. One of the rowel 
 points was broken short off. 
 
 " I heard yuh throwed down on Carlson," said Tom 
 in a low tone. 
 
 " I had to," Red turned toward his brother. " Yuh 
 see " 
 
 " Here he comes now," Tom interrupted. 
 
 The thick-set figure of Carlson pushed through the 
 doorway and walked straight toward Red Kane. The 
 latter, alert as the * proverbial weasel, shifted position 
 slightly. His right hand dropped at his side. Carlson 
 grinned pacifically. 
 
 " No hard feelin s," he said, fronting up to the bar 
 at Red s side. " Anyhow, they ain t none from where I m 
 standin ." 
 
 " Which is goin the limit," declared Red with a smile. 
 
92 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I d like to know what s fairer than that? Barkeep, 
 slide along another glass. Here s the bottle, Carlson. 
 Drink hearty." 
 
 Carlson drank, set down his glass and looked straight 
 into Red s eyes. 
 
 " Look out for Lenn an Dill," he whispered. " I ve 
 a notion they re a-layin for yuh. So long." 
 
 Without another word Carlson departed. 
 
 " What did he say? " queried Tom. 
 
 Red told him. Tom s mouth straightened and he 
 hitched up his belt. 
 
 " They s always two of us in our family," he said. 
 " It s shore white o Carlson, but," he qualified, knowing 
 his town and its people, " I kind o guess he done it only 
 cause he s more hostyle to Lenn an Dill than he is to 
 you." 
 
 " I ain t doin no worryin why he done it," said Red 
 the practical. " He done it, an I m gonna go search 
 out them two fellers an give em a chance to spring their 
 joke." 
 
 " They s nothin like doin things on the jump," con 
 curred Tom. 
 
 They went out, these two brothers, and, because they 
 did not know the disposition of the enemy, they walked 
 one behind the other, a distance of thirty yards between 
 them. 
 
 They went directly to the dance-hall. Lenn did not 
 go on duty behind the bar till seven o clock in the evening, 
 but it was the man s habit to infest the place even in his 
 leisure moments. 
 
 Red and Tom entered the dance-hall from different en 
 trances. It is a point in military strategy to fall upon 
 the enemy from flank and front simultaneously. Neither 
 of the two brothers had ever heard of Murat or Marl- 
 borough, but no commander of troops could have timed 
 his onfall at a more opportune moment than they did 
 
The Warning 93 
 
 theirs. Entering the dance-hall by way of the rear and 
 side doors, they found the enemy unbraced and unready. 
 
 Spunk Lenn had even partially dismounted his six- 
 shooter. The cylinder lay on the bar beside a freshly 
 broken box of cartridges. Spunk Lenn, holding a piece 
 of paper against the recoil plate to reflect the light, was 
 squinting through the barrel. He was cold sober. So 
 was not Pickles Dill. This gentleman was leaning 
 against the bar and orating in maudlin tones. 
 
 Red and Tom had heard Mr. Dill s voice as they came 
 up the street, but the words had been indistinguishable 
 for that Mr. Dill s delivery was thick and rather sketchy. 
 Once they were under the same roof with Mr. Dill they 
 could understand him perfectly. 
 
 " Nawsir," Mr. Dill was saying, thumping the bar 
 with a dirty fist and nodding his head solemnly at every 
 thump, " nawsir, I don care how fuf-fast he is with a 
 gu-gu-gug-gun. I m pup-pup-pretty fuf-fast m-ownself." 
 
 Inspired by similar hunches, Red and Tom halted just 
 within their respective doorways. Their entry had gone 
 unperceived. Besides Messrs. Lenn and Dill, themselves 
 and the day bartender, there was no one else in the dance- 
 hall. And the day bartender, a fat-brained chucklehead, 
 was oblivious to everything but the antics and speech of 
 Pickles Dill. 
 
 " You better go to bed, Pickles," advised Mr. Lenn, 
 busy with a rawhide pull-through. " You ain t in no 
 condition to act hostyle. You go to bed like a good 
 feller." 
 
 But the " good feller " stood firmer in his convictions 
 than he did on his legs. 
 
 ; You mum-mean I m drunk," he said, with a hic 
 cup. " Why don t yuh shay sho right out shus-stead o 
 hintin rur-round thish-way. Well, I ain t drunk, I m 
 
 shober s you are. Shoberer, by . An I feel lul- 
 
 like hoppin out after him. I m gug-gonna do it. I ll 
 
94 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 ride the li l hoss all round his collar. I ll make him eat 
 hish own sush-shix-shooter, that s what I ll do. I m 
 gonna dud-do it, I tell yuh that fuf-flat I m gonna do it 
 now. You come along an wash me fuf-fill Red Kane 
 full o lead." 
 
 He started teeteringly in the general direction of the 
 front door. Spunk Lenn seized him by the elbow and 
 swung him hard on into the bar. 
 
 " Have another drink, Pickles," he invited. Then to 
 the bartender in an undertone, " Give it to him in a tin 
 cup. That oughta fix him so s I can get him to bed 
 without a fuss." 
 
 Red Kane could, on occasion, move silently. He did 
 so on this occasion. When the bartender straightened 
 his body after bending down to a lower shelf for a tin 
 cup, Red Kane was leaning nonchalantly against the far 
 end of the bar. The bartender, holding tin cup and bottle 
 in his hands, froze stiff. No doubt it was his chill that 
 made the bottle and cup tinkle pleasantly together. 
 
 Mr. Lenn looked at the bartender in surprise. Then 
 his eyes followed the eyes of the bartender. Mr. Lenn 
 was no catch-as-catch-can individual. He did not lose 
 his head. Not knowing how much or how little Red 
 Kane had heard, he chose to put the burden of opening 
 a conflict upon the puncher. 
 
 Red silently gazed upon Mr. Lenn and the maudlin 
 Mr. Dill. The latter s wandering eyes had not rested 
 upon Mr. Kane as yet. Nor had they perceived the other 
 Mr. Kane, who had come up from the rear and assumed 
 an attitude of lazy carelessness on a chair across the 
 room. But Mr. Lenn had observed the other Mr. Kane 
 and the other Mr. Kane s choice of position, and it had 
 not increased his peace of mind. 
 
 Honor, notwithstanding the proverb to the contrary, 
 does not always obtain among thieves. It does not al 
 ways remain afloat between friends. Mr. Lenn and Mr. 
 
The Warning 95 
 
 Dill were ostensibly friends, and, now that danger actually 
 threatened, Mr. Lenn pushed Mr. Dill into deep water 
 without a qualm. In so doing Mr. Lenn s purpose may 
 have been deeper than the water. He may have expected 
 Mr. Kane to shoot a drunken man, thereby gaining the 
 disapproval of the multitude. For there is a well- 
 grounded prejudice against inflicting bodily injury upon 
 one over-served with liquor. 
 
 Whatever Mr. Lenn s expectations, it is history that 
 he reached across the bar and tapped the witless bartender 
 on a trembling elbow. 
 
 "Gonna choke that bottle to death?" Mr. Lenn de 
 manded severely. 
 
 The bartender jerkily placed cup and bottle before Mr. 
 Lenn. The latter poured a stiffish drink into the tin cup 
 and shoved the cup into the hand of Mr. Dill. 
 
 " Drink hearty," urged Mr. Lenn. 
 
 Mr. Dill, raising the cup to his lips, half-turned toward 
 his friend. 
 
 Across Mr. Lenn s shoulder Mr. Dill perceived Mr. 
 Red Kane standing near the end of the bar. In effect, 
 he saw two Mr. Red Kanes. While he looked, the two 
 became three. Which phenomena intrigued Mr. Dill. 
 
 He set down the tin cup without drinking and laughed 
 crazily. 
 
 " Lul-look," he said, pointing a shaking arm and hand. 
 " Lul-look. There s Red Kuk-kane nun-now." 
 
 " Yeah," murmured Mr. Lenn in the tone of one who 
 has forgotten something. "I see him." 
 
 Mr. Lenn slipped to the rear of Mr. Dill. 
 
 " They s two o yuh, Ru-Red," said Mr. Dill with a 
 puzzled frown. " I didn t know yuh was twins." Mr. 
 Dill s wavering gaze staggered sidewise and embraced 
 Red Kane s brother Tom where he sat on his chair against 
 the side wall " An Tom s twins too," Mr. Dill went 
 on distractedly. "I dud-don t understan - it. Whysh 
 
9 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Ru-Red twins an whysh Tom twins too. Both of em 
 tut-twins, an I wanna know why. Cue-can you tell me 
 why?" 
 
 He wheeled inward and stabbed an uncertain forefinger 
 at the bartender. 
 
 "I " began the bartender. 
 
 " My ! " cried Mr. Dill. " Yo re twins too ! An 
 
 Spuh Spuh Spunk he s twins. An that bottle s tut- 
 twins." 
 
 He reached for the bottle and, naturally, miscalculated 
 and clutched a handful of air. He grabbed again, wildly, 
 and upset the bottle. It rolled across the bar, over the 
 edge and smashed on the floor. The mishap annoyed Mr. 
 Dill. 
 
 " What did yuh do that for? " he roared at the bar 
 tender. Then, his mood changing on the instant, he be 
 gan to weep. " Poor li l bottle," he moaned. " Never 
 did no harm to nobody. All broke to pieces. Poor li l 
 bottle." 
 
 He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and 
 sniffled. Obviously he had completely forgotten ever 
 having borne malice toward Red Kane. Mr. Lenn was 
 at a loss. His eyes flickered nervously. Red Kane 
 smiled. He had shrewdly suspected an evil intent at the 
 back of Mr. Lenn s mind. 
 
 " Throw the red-eye into him, Spunk, why don t yuh? " 
 he queried. " Then maybe he ll get his dander up." 
 
 " What yuh talkin about ? " Thus Mr. Lenn, wearing 
 his best expression of wondering innocence. 
 
 " Me ? Yuh mean me ? Yuh mean what am I talkin 
 about, huh? Oh, I was just a-talkin . I do that now an 
 then. Kind of a habit with me. Djuh know, Spunk 
 I ll bet another drink would help his memory." 
 
 " His memory, " repeated Mr. Lenn. 
 
 " Shore, his memory. Ain t he forgot somethin ? " 
 
 " I dunno what yo re talkin about," declared Mr. Lenn 
 
The Warning 97 
 
 palely. He felt queerly within, did Mr. Lenn. Red 
 Kane seemed bent on forcing a fight. Every advantage 
 lay with the puncher. Mr. Lenn cursed Pickles Dill and 
 his loose tongue. 
 
 "If you ain t gonna give him that drink, you d oughta 
 take him home," Red Kane pointed out kindly. " He 
 ain t in no condition to leave loose on the range, Pickles 
 ain t. Look at him, Spunk. He s fallin asleep right 
 now this minute." 
 
 Even as Red spoke, Mr. Dill, who had been clinging 
 limpet-like to the bar, relaxed his hold, slid gently to the 
 floor, buried his nose in his hat and began to snore. 
 
 " Pack him into the back room," Mr. Lenn said to the 
 bartender and started to leave the dance-hall. 
 
 The voice of Red Kane halted Mr. Lenn before he 
 reached the door. 
 
 :t Yo re forgettin somethin , too," said Red Kane. 
 
 There ! It had come, the challenge. Mr. Lenn s scared 
 nerves read a menace into Red s simple words. He 
 whirled, his body crouching, his right hand jerking down 
 and up. 
 
 Fully expecting to meet the flash and smoke of Red s 
 six-shooter he pulled trigger three times before he real 
 ized that his hammer was clicking vainly and that Red s 
 thumbs remained hooked in his belt. 
 
 " Told yuh yuh d forgot somethin ," Red Kane ob 
 served calmly. " Yore cylinder. Yuh left it layin on 
 top of the bar." 
 
 Mr. Lenn perceived with shame that Red Kane was 
 telling the truth. He looked at the empty frame of his 
 gun with sullen eyes. 
 
 " I expect yo re a-wishin that cylinder had been in 
 place," Red observed softly. " Is that it? " 
 
 Mr. Lenn shook his head. 
 
 " I thought " he began. 
 
 " Nemmine what yuh thought," interrupted Red Kane. 
 
98 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " It don t signify really. Only only I d be kind o 
 careful how I throwed down on folks, feller. I d shore 
 be a heap careful. S pose now, Spunk, you pick up yore 
 li l tin cylinder an pull yore freight. I get tired lookin 
 at yuh sometimes. Speakin plain, Spunk, I d drag it 
 out o town if I was you. An , if I was a gent thoughtful 
 of my health, I d do it inside o ten minutes. Yuh see, 
 feller, I m gonna go down to Tom s now after my Win 
 chester. Then I m comin back, an I m gonna scout 
 round for you, an , if yo re anyways visible, I ll give yuh 
 the whole magazine. That s the how of it, Spunk." 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 A WILD TIME 
 
 INTO this lively situation blundered headforemost the 
 owner of the dance-hall, the late Mr. Stute s successor, 
 one " Piggy " Wads worth. A plumpish man, Piggy s 
 mental processes were slow, but he was sufficiently bright 
 to sense a certain tension in the atmosphere. He turned 
 a moon face from one to another of those present. 
 
 " What s the trouble ? " he asked, wrinkling an anxious 
 forehead. 
 
 He wished no violence in his place. Violence he ab 
 horred. Violence and a too active participation in public 
 affairs had been the death of Mr. Stute, the erstwhile 
 proprietor. In his mind s eye Piggy could still see the 
 white form of Mr. Stute he was hanged in his night 
 shirt a dangle against the sky. As a dance-hall owner 
 honest Piggy was decidedly miscast. He should have 
 been born a periwinkle. 
 
 " What s the trouble?" he repeated. "Don t start 
 nothin now, Spunk. This here s a respectable place, an 
 I m aimin to keep it so. I don t wanna get mixed up in 
 no gun-plays myself, an I don t want none in here. 
 What yuh fussin with a customer for, anyhow? I ve 
 told yuh time an again to hang onto yore temper in here. 
 It drives away trade to have a barkeep a-rowin alia 
 time. Folks don t come in here for a fraycas. They 
 come in for a drink, y understand. Whatsa trouble, any 
 how? I ve done asked yuh three times." 
 
 "If yuh waited after the first time instead o surgin 
 
ioo Lynch Lawyers 
 
 hell-bent into a sermon, I d a told yuh," snarled Spunk 
 Lenn. " They ain t no trouble. I m playin cat s-cradle 
 with Red Kane. Whadda you guess ? " 
 
 " Spunk s tellin the truth for once," remarked Red 
 Kane. " But I dunno as I m a heap anxious to keep on 
 playin cat s-cradle with Spunk. He s too swift for me 
 or somethin . I like to gamble, but a shore thing is too 
 much. Spunk is leavin our midst." 
 
 Fat Piggy stared and scratched the top of his head, 
 where the hair grew sparsely. 
 
 " He s leavin ? Whadda yuh mean?" Again Piggy 
 scratched the top of his head. 
 
 " I mean you ll have to look round for a new night 
 barkeep," explained Red Kane. " Yuh see, Piggy, 
 Spunk s decided to shoo himself away. Spunk," he con 
 tinued, his light tone becoming hard, " don t lemme keep 
 you. Yore cylinder is still on top o the bar. Lessee 
 how fast yuh can pick it up an get out o that door." 
 
 "If it wasn t for yore brother behind me," said Mr. 
 Lenn, stepping to the bar and retrieving his property, 
 " I d shoot it out with yuh." 
 
 " No, that s not yore reason, Spunk. Never say so. 
 Tom s bein behind yuh has nothin to do with it. You 
 ain t got the nerve. You hear me. You ain t got the 
 nerve. If yuh had the nerve, yuh d slip in yore cylinder, 
 slam home yore center-pin an turn yore bull loose. See, 
 my hand ain t no more n reasonable close to my six- 
 shooter, an you got yore gun out." 
 
 Spunk Lenn s fingers ceased moving. The cylinder re 
 mained half in, half out of the frame. 
 
 " Huh? " Mr. Lenn looked frowningly at Mr. Kane. 
 
 " I m tellin yuh y aint got the nerve to cut down on 
 me again. Y aint got the nerve, an right now this min 
 ute I m gonna see how li l nerve you really have got." 
 
 Red Kane sprang forward and planted a jab on the 
 nose of Mr. Lenn. The latter, with a squeak of anguish, 
 
A Wild Time 101 
 
 promptly essayed to complete the assembling of his six- 
 shooter. But Red Kane did not wait on the convenience 
 of Mr. Lenn. He bored in, keeping his elbows close to 
 his ribs, and heavily punished Mr. Lenn s eye and ear. 
 The cylinder flew from Spunk Lenn s ringers. He struck 
 savagely at his opponent with the barrel of the six- 
 shooter. Red Kane dodged the blow, wrenched the 
 weapon from the hand of Mr. Lenn and clipped him 
 across the mouth with it. 
 
 Spitting blood and three teeth, Mr. Lenn lowered his 
 head and charged Red Kane. Which move was most 
 ill-advised. Red Kane raised a hard knee and smote Mr. 
 Lenn on his already painful nose. 
 
 With a sound midway between a grunt and a groan 
 Mr. Lenn went over backward and landed squarely on 
 the stomach of the sleeping Mr. Dill. This was lucky for 
 Lenn. Otherwise he would have broken his neck. The 
 stricken Pickles, as his comrade rolled off his stomach, 
 doubled up like a closing jack-knife. He wheezed and 
 gasped, clutching his middle the while with both hands. 
 Then nausea seized him, and he wallowed like a pig 
 under the feet of the fighting men. 
 
 Mr. Lenn, when he arose again, charged his antagonist. 
 But not head down this time. He had learned that lesson. 
 He went forward swinging both fists, only to go down 
 flat beneath a shower of hooks and jabs to the face. 
 
 Red Kane did not know that the blows he was deliver 
 ing so well were hooks and jabs. He had never seen a 
 prize-fight, and of fistic science he was naturally as 
 ignorant as a Mennonite maid. But he was a willing 
 worker, had plenty of instinct and was hard as the pro 
 verbial keg of nails. The ex-bartender could not go the 
 distance with the cowboy. But there are more ways than 
 one of winning a fight, especially when the row is unham 
 pered by rules. 
 
 From his latest knockdown Mr. Lenn arose slowly. 
 
IO2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 There was blood on his face and murder in his heart. 
 Moreover, there was craft in his brain and a bowie under 
 his vest. He was so consumed with rage engendered by 
 the acute pain of his hurts that he had long since for 
 gotten to be afraid. Some men are like that. 
 
 Mr. Lenn, swaying on his feet, was not nearly so weary 
 as he looked. He shook his head as if to clear it and 
 dashed the blood from his fast-closing eyes with the back 
 of a bruised left hand. His right arm he kept across 
 his middle, the forearm parallel to and immediately above 
 his belt, the fist close in to the points of the open vest. 
 
 He crouched and tottered toward Red Kane. The 
 latter was calmly awaiting an opportunity to administer 
 to Mr. Lenn his quietus. A right or left swing neatly 
 planted beneath an ear or on the point of the jaw would 
 be best, Red decided as he watched the advance of his 
 battered antagonist. 
 
 Spunk Lenn gave every indication of a man almost 
 out on his feet. He gasped like a netted fish. His knees 
 wobbled beneath him. As acting it was badly overdone, 
 but Mr. Lenn s audience was not disposed to be critical. 
 
 Red Kane, in his unblissful ignorance, set himself to 
 send over the knockout. Mr. Lenn appeared to give \vay 
 suddenly. He sank down almost to the floor. He rested 
 his left hand on the floor to steady himself. His body 
 bowed forward. The outswinging flap of his vest com 
 pletely concealed his right hand. 
 
 Then his slack body straightened with a snap from 
 the heels, and he sprang forward and upward. No cata 
 mount could have been brisker. Mr. Lenn s right hand 
 shot out from beneath the vest. There were eight inches 
 of gray steel projecting from that right hand, and with 
 all the strength of arm and shoulder Mr. Lenn stabbed 
 straight at Red Kane s stomach. 
 
 But the Sisters Three fought for Red Kane that day. 
 Had the puncher been going away at the moment, nothing 
 
A Wild Time 103 
 
 could have prevented the grooved blade from ripping up 
 his vitals. But he was coming in at the psychological 
 nick, and he met the blow half-way. The point of the 
 bowie struck one of the brass conchas on his chaps, 
 glanced, and did no more material damage than slit the 
 leather over his hip bone. 
 
 Red Kane would have been perfectly justified had he 
 stepped back, pulled his six-shooter and filled the crafty 
 Mr. Lenn full of holes. But even then, with Mr. Lenn 
 gathering himself for another murderous effort, Red did 
 not draw his firearm. Instead he hopped to one side, 
 snatched up a handy chair and flailed Mr. Lenn across the 
 face with it. 
 
 Mr. Lenn dropped his knife and reeled backward. 
 He was suffering the most exquisite torture, for a chair 
 leg had rapped his funny-bone and a corner of the chair 
 had deprived him of three more of his most prominent 
 teeth and broken his nose. He gave vent in his agony 
 to a shrill ululation that Red Kane cut short with another 
 swing of the useful chair. Mr. Lenn tumbled senseless 
 into the angle between the bar and the front wall and 
 lay huddled, a sadly crumpled human being. 
 
 Red Kane gazed down at his handiwork and flung the 
 chair from him. 
 
 " Y oughta make yore chairs heavier," he observed to 
 the marveling Piggy. "If the one I used had five more 
 pounds heft, I d a knocked him silly first crack." 
 
 " My ! " breathed the awed Piggy, staring at the 
 
 wreck of his late employee. "My ! I never seen 
 
 nothin like it since I was born. Yuh yuh wouldn t 
 hardly think they s a real face behind all that blood an 
 mush." 
 
 Yuh d oughta shot the polecat," Tom reproached his 
 brother. " I d a done it. Don t yuh see, yuh idjit, in 
 stead o windin the play up like yuh waded out to do so 
 careless an free yuh ve just started a new deal? But 
 
IO4 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 maybe yuh rubbed him out after all," he added, bright 
 ening perceptibly. " Lessee." 
 
 Tom crossed to the battered Mr. Lenn and fingered his 
 person at various points of vantage. Red Kane scooped 
 up the discarded bowie, revolver-frame and cylinder and 
 tossed the lot through the doorway into the street. The 
 ironmongery slithered at the feet of that semi-invalid 
 Mr. Cox, who, attracted by the shortened shrieks of Mr. 
 Lenn, was coming along the sidewalk. Mr. Cox, surmis 
 ing by the very shrillness of the screams that one of the 
 dance-hall girls was indulging in delirium tremens and 
 fearing to miss some part of the excitement, hurried 
 blithely up. His expectant grin became even more ex 
 pectant at sight of the shower of hardware. She was 
 throwing things. She would no doubt furnish plenty of 
 amusement. He wondered why she had stopped scream 
 ing. 
 
 " I guess he ll live all right," Tom Kane was saying 
 regretfully when Mr. Cox entered. " He s breathin 
 right good, an I don t think his skull s fractured. Shore 
 tough luck that chair bein so light." 
 
 " Here s Coxy," cried Red joyously. " Good ol 
 Coxy, lame arm an all. How s the pin, old settler? " 
 
 But the old settler was in no mood for idle banter, 
 at least not from the tongue of Red Kane. He had not 
 forgotten what Red had said to him at the ranch-house by 
 Sweetwater Mountain. The grin faded abruptly from 
 the mouth of Mr. Cox as he faced the laughing devil in 
 Red s gray eyes. The eyes of Mr. Cox shifted quickly 
 to the object that had at one time been a perfectly good 
 bartender. 
 
 If Mr. Cox could not recognize the features, he recog 
 nized the clothing. His expression grew very glum. 
 
 " Don t look so happy," suggested the impudent Red. 
 " Ain t yuh sorry for Spunk even a little bit ? Where s 
 yore sympathy ? " 
 
A Wild Time 105 
 
 This was rubbing it in with a vengeance. Cox s side- 
 wise glance at Red was savage. 
 
 " Yeah," said Cox, " I m sorry for Spunk all right, an ! 
 I got sympathy to burn. Don t yuh worry none about 
 that. I even got sympathy for you, Red." 
 
 " Why me? Do I look like I needed it? " 
 
 " Yuh ll need it all right. Yuh ll need it a-plenty." 
 
 " That sounds real interestin ," drawled Red. " Who s 
 gonna make me need sympathy? " 
 
 But Rooster Cox was not to be drawn further. One 
 corner of his malicious mouth lifted in a crooked smile, 
 and he departed, nursing his injured arm. 
 
 " Gonna tell Durkin," thought Red contemptuously. 
 " Piggy/ ne sa id aloud, " when Spunk comes to, tell him 
 I ll stretch out his ten minutes till to-morrow mornin at 
 six o clock. I ll be lookin for him after six. C mon, 
 Tom." 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 THE DARK PLACES 
 
 " WILL this be large enough? " 
 
 The attractive Miss Blythe, Mike Flynn s partner in 
 the Blue Pigeon, spread a green silk handkerchief upon 
 the counter. 
 
 " I guess/ said Red Kane. " Tim shore ought to be 
 pleased with that. Yes, ma am, cuffs an the handker 
 chief will be all. Nemmine wrappin up the cuffs. I ll 
 tie them on the saddle, but yuh can put a piece o news 
 paper round the handkerchief if yuh will. Don t wanna 
 get it dirty if I can help it. Where s the man-talkin 
 parrot?" 
 
 " Out back," she twinkled, nodding her head toward 
 the sleeping-quarters of Mike Flynn. " I won t have the 
 horrid thing in here while I m tending store. Such lan 
 guage I never listened to in all my born days. Seven dol 
 lars and four-bits, Mr. Kane." 
 
 " Betcha yo re buyin them things for yoreself," Tom 
 observed skeptically when he and his brother were walk 
 ing homeward. 
 
 " I was not," denied Red. " They re for Tim Page, 
 like I said. I s pose Tim wants to be fancy for once. 
 He shore oughta be in that handkerchief. She s a right 
 outstandin green." 
 
 " Alia same, I ll bet they ain t for Tim," insisted Tom. 
 " Yo re fixin on goin out to Sweetwater Mountain again, 
 an yuh wanna look joyful. Can t fool me. I know you, 
 old-timer. Nemmine denyin it, I wouldn t believe yuh 
 
The Dark Places 107 
 
 if yuh told me till yuh was blue in the face. Red, you 
 make me sick ! What do yuh wanna go get married for ? 
 I don t mind a fool. Gotta expect that, but it ain t nec 
 essary to be a damn fool, an you personal are actin like 
 the damndest fool ever drawed breath. You mark what 
 I m tellin yuh, Red, you ll be sorry. You ll be sorry 
 shore as yo re a foot high. Look at me, I m single; I m 
 happy; I m makin money. What more do yuh want? 
 What more can yuh want? Hell s bells, do yuh want a 
 woman tellin yuh how many pills yuh can smoke an su- 
 pervisin yore drinks? 
 
 " Think o that, Red. Can t go into the Happy Heart 
 for the smallest kind of a snifter without havin yore wife 
 askin about it an objectin like one o my mules when 
 Piney Jackson shoes him. An if y ever got an edge on, 
 Red, an brought it home with yuh, she d raise the roof. 
 That s the kind o hairpin a wife is. I know; I got mar 
 ried friends, an they told me. 
 
 " Now shut up. Lemme talk. You ll have plenty 
 time to jaw while I m rustlin the chuck. You take yore 
 Dot Lorimer friend now. She s got a temper, she has. 
 S pose yuh don t do everythin to suit her forget to 
 chop the light wood or somethin . What ll she do, huh ? 
 She won t say much. Not her. She ain t that sort. 
 She ll take the hatchet or a rollin pin an beat the drum 
 on yore face. That s what she ll do." 
 
 " Maybe I ll like it, Tom," grinned the amused Red. 
 " When yuh like a person, yuh like what they do to yuh. 
 Look at me now. Yo re a-whangin at me with yore 
 tongue, an I ain t sayin a word. Shows I like yuh. 
 Yuh don t appreciate it neither. Fine brother, you are." 
 
 " I know when I m well off, you bet. I ain t doin my 
 endeavors to stick my head through the loop of a rope. 
 I ain t got nothin in petticoats to boss me round, an I 
 ain t gonna have nothin , neither. Single cussedness, 
 that s me." 
 
io8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " You ll be followin my trail in less n a year, maybe 
 sooner. You ll see." 
 
 " I will not. Not while I know how to cook I won t. 
 They s ham to-night, Red. Ham n taters. Wanna wait 
 while I make biscuits ? All right. Grab the ax an split 
 the light wood for to-morrow mornin an to-morrow 
 night too while yo re about it. Yuh might s well learn 
 bein useful, cowboy. Then yuh won t mind it so much 
 later." 
 
 Tom nimbly dodged through the doorway of his shack 
 and slammed the door just as a stick of stove wood 
 crashed against the planking. 
 
 " Alia same, he s the fool," Red told himself, as he 
 twiddled the ax out of the chopping block. " I don t be 
 lieve she d act thataway. She couldn t. She ain t that 
 kind of a girl." 
 
 It was in the small hours of the morning when Tom 
 Kane, sleeping the sleep of a tired man, was smartly 
 cracked on the head by a heavy article. He came alive 
 on the instant, bounced upright and automatically felt for 
 his six-shooter. Beside his bunk, dimly visible in the 
 pale light of the early dawn, stood the dark figure of his 
 brother. 
 
 " T sall right ! " Red cried hastily. " I was only tryin 
 to find out what time it was without wakin yuh, an the 
 alarm clock dropped on yore face." 
 
 " My ear," corrected Tom huffily, cautiously fingering 
 the organ in question. " It dropped on my ear, yuh 
 butter-fingered hay-maker! It might a put out my eye 
 if I d been a-layin like I do usual. Why didn t yuh 
 strike a match if yuh wanted to find out the time? " 
 
 " I didn t wanna wake yuh up," explained Red. " I 
 knowed yuh wouldn t wanna be waked up, so I tried to 
 take the clock over to the window where they was some 
 light. Y oughtn t to keep the thing on a shelf right over 
 yore bed. No place for a clock nohow. Next time yuh 
 
The Dark Places 109 
 
 might get damaged instead o just batted on the ear. 
 Lordy, what a time yuh make for just a ear." 
 
 "Oh, is that so?" snapped Tom, while his brother 
 struck a match and held it in front of the clock s face. 
 " Yuh talk like I got several ears an could easy afford to 
 have one of em hammered flat any time you feel like it. 
 Well, I can t an I won t, an you do any more such fool 
 tricks an I ll damage you. I always could lick yuh, an I 
 still can, you bet. What yuh wanna know the time for ? 
 You ain t gotta work to-day." 
 
 " I got a engagement, an you can t lick me an never 
 could, an " 
 
 " Nemmine about that. What s yore engagement ? 
 What kind o devilment are y up to now ? " 
 
 " You know as well as I do. I told Spunk Lenn he d 
 have to be out o town this mornin an I forgot whether I 
 gave him till four, five or six ; so I m gonna play safe an 
 say it s four. Clock says three forty-eight, so I ll just 
 be pullin on my boots an leavin yuh. Yuh might s well 
 have breakfast ready for me when I get back." 
 
 " Who was yore last year s nigger? " demanded Tom, 
 whose ear still tingled. "If yo re gonna go out lookin 
 for Lenn, I gotta go along, an you know it. Lenn has 
 other friends besides Pickles, Durkin an Cox. Yo re 
 too venturesome, likewise yo re a idjit, a plumb idjit. 
 The idea of gettin up at four in the mornin instead o 
 givin Lenn the benefit of the doubt an waitin till six 
 like a Christian an then goin out an havin yore li l riot ! 
 Are you figurin on haulin Spunk out o bed ? " 
 
 " If I gotta," replied Red, busy with his boots. " But 
 you needn t put yoreself to no trouble, Tom," he contin 
 ued sarcastically. " I wouldn t want yuh to bother about 
 me for a whole lot. I ain t no child, an I don t need no 
 guardian." 
 
 " What you need is a nurse," was the sharp return. 
 " Shut up now, I guess you got nothin to do with it. If 
 
1 1 o Lynch Lawyers 
 
 I wanna get in this, I guess I got a right to. I was in it 
 yesterday, an you didn t have no objections. Now yuh 
 wanna glom all the fun yoreself. We ll see about that, 
 we will. Where s my belt? I ll bet you moved it or 
 somethin . Why can t yuh leave things alone? Oh, 
 here she is." 
 
 " Shore, right where yuh hung it on the back o the 
 chair. Y old sputter-box, if yuh didn t have somethin 
 to squall round about, yuh wouldn t be happy. What do 
 yuh do when I ain t here ? " 
 
 Tom countered in kind, and they left the shack still 
 engaged in heated argument. 
 
 It was a minute past the hour and broad in the light of 
 the coming day when Red Kane rapped on the door of the 
 one-room log-house behind the dance-hall where Spunk 
 Lenn lived with a man named Murphy, or did live rather, 
 for the man named Murphy, on getting out of bed and 
 coming to the door, informed them with much bitterness 
 that Spunk Lenn had departed at midnight. 
 
 " He pulled his freight owin me money," complained 
 the ex-roommate. " Twenty-eight dollars six-bits he 
 borrowed last month, an this ain t all neither. They was 
 a bottle of whisky nearly half full under my bed, an he 
 took that. I ain t missed nothin else so far, but I guess 
 that ain t Spunk s fault. Likely he didn t have time to 
 do the job complete. An I thought he was a friend o 
 mine ! I hope I cut his trail sometime. Runnin off with 
 my money an my whisky too, the bushwhacker ! " 
 
 Leaving the man named Murphy to the memory of his 
 wrongs, they returned to the shack and had breakfast. 
 Which meal disposed of, Tom improved the shining hour 
 by overhauling his team harness. 
 
 " Coin south next week," said he, " an I don t aim to 
 have nothin bust on the trip. Gotta get new tugs, worse 
 luck. The harness makers don t care what kind o 
 leather they use no more." 
 
The Dark Places in 
 
 " Yeah," yawned the uninterested Red. " I wish I 
 had somethin to do. I don t wanna watch Piney all day. 
 I don t feel like it." 
 
 " Go an get the other harness punch then, an help me. 
 I ll give yuh somethin to do." 
 
 " Naw, I don t mean work. I don t feel like workin 
 to-day. I feel a heap lazy-like. I don t feel good neither. 
 I got a misery in my stomach. Maybe I m gonna be 
 sick, Tom. Be reasonable. I gotta look after my health, 
 don t I?" 
 
 " Too bad about yuh. Shore is. You didn t have no 
 misery when yuh hauled me out o bed in the middle o 
 the night. No, yuh didn t. But now yo re too delicate 
 to work. Yuh poor feller. I m a-grievin for yuh, I 
 am. I m mighty sorry I ain t got a glass case handy for 
 yuh to crawl into an keep out o drafts. Maybe yuh d 
 better go in an lay down. Couldn t I hold yore hand or 
 somethin ? " 
 
 " No," said Red, his face lighting up suddenly. " I 
 dunno as I care about yuh holdin my paw, but what yuh 
 say about layin down sounds sort o good. Maybe I d 
 better do it. I don t wanna be sick here on yore hands. 
 Lordy, no." 
 
 Tom grunted with scorn as Red retreated hurriedly in 
 to the shack. Ten minutes later he peered through the 
 window and discovered his brother shaving himself. Tom 
 immediately dropped the back-strap he was examining 
 and scuffled into the house. 
 
 "My razor!" he lamented. "Yo re usin my razor, 
 an I just spent a solid hour day before yesterday honin 
 her up good for Sunday mornin ! " 
 
 " I m shore obliged to yuh," Red assured him rapidly, 
 fending him off with the shaving-brush. " It s fine an 
 sharp. You done a good job." 
 
 " An I got it to do all over again now. What yuh 
 wanna shave for in the middle of the week, anyhow? " 
 
ii2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Because I feel like it. Think I wanna run round 
 lookin like a porkypine alia time? Well, I don t. I 
 ain t like you. I got respect for my personal appearance, 
 I have. You lemme alone so s I can finish up, an I ll 
 give yuh back yore pretty li l razor so s yuh can enjoy 
 yoreself honin her up again. Go way now. Go sit 
 down, for Gawd s sake. You make me nervous hoppin 
 around thataway." 
 
 " I ll make you nervous," yapped the irritated Tom. 
 " You know I don t allow nobody to use that razor. I 
 might a guessed you d do somethin like this if I wasn t 
 here to watch yuh. I ll watch yuh now, you can gamble 
 on that. I ll set right here on this table till you get 
 through an out, that s what I ll do. Where s my mak- 
 in s? I left em right here on the shelf, I know I did. 
 You ve took em. Where are they? " 
 
 " I had to," explained Red, trying to keep one eye on 
 his exasperated relative and the other on the tiny mirror. 
 " My bag was nearly empty. But you stop bellerin , an 
 I ll lend yuh some when I get through." 
 
 " You ll lend me some o my own tobacco, will yuh? 
 That s good. That s right down generous of you, that 
 is. But I guess I needn t wait till after yo re done 
 shavin , not when you ve kindly left one end o the draw 
 string stickin out of yore vest pocket an the vest hangin 
 on the wall in plain sight." 
 
 Tom gave a triumphant jerk on the draw-string, pulled 
 out the bag and tugged it open. 
 
 " Aw ! " he exclaimed when he had looked within. 
 
 "Yeah," Red tranquilly observed. "I thought li l 
 Brighteyes would see the draw-string a-stickin out. So 
 I rilled the bag with bits o paper. The tobacco s in my 
 other bag, an that s where you won t find it in a hurry. 
 Don t throw that water! They s a cigar in the inside 
 pocket of the vest. Smoke that an be happy. There, see 
 what yuh made me do cut myself ! " 
 
The Dark Places 113 
 
 " Serve yuh right," Tom told him, fishing for the cigar. 
 " Bet she s all squashed. Naw, she ain t, for a wonder. 
 Good thing for you she ain t, too, or I d a shore soused 
 yuh good an plenty. Oughta done it anyway. Maybe I 
 will yet. Yeah, I know yuh d try for to lick me, but doin 
 it is somethin else again. Go n, go n. Twice over yore 
 chin now, an call it a day." 
 
 Red Kane shrugged a contemptuous shoulder and pro 
 ceeded with his shaving. The operation completed to his 
 contentment, he pulled off his shirt and hung it up. 
 
 What yuh peelin yore shirt for?" asked Tom, re 
 garding him curiously. " You ain t gonna change it, are 
 yuh?" 
 
 "Shore, why not?" returned Red opening a news 
 paper-wrapped bundle and pulling therefrom a new shirt 
 he had purchased of Mike Flynn. " I ain t proud. I 
 change my shirt now an then." 
 
 " Yo re gettin reckless an - Is that it? Is that the 
 shirt you bought at Mike s? Purple hoss-shoes on gray 
 topped by yore red hair is shore a ferocious combination. 
 A house afire wouldn t be deuce high alongside o you. 
 Nawsir. You ain t gonna wear that bright green hand 
 kerchief too, are yuh? An them cuffs? I thought yuh 
 done said it an the cuffs was for Tim Page, an yuh 
 didn t wanna get em dirty ? " 
 
 " Shore they re for Tim, just like I said, but I m gonna 
 sort o christen em for him first. He won t mind." 
 
 " Of course he won t. He ll spit in yore eye an 
 drownd yuh, that s all he ll do. I know now what yo re 
 gonna do. I knowed it all along, you bet. Yo re goin 
 out to Sweetwater Mountain this mornin , that s where 
 yo re goin ." 
 
 " I might happen along that way," admitted Red. 
 " Yuh see, Tom, I got business over round Sweetwater 
 anyhow, an I wouldn t want for to go by an not say 
 Howdy. Why, Tom, maybe the old gent, her father, 
 
ii4 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 maybe he s worse. Maybe she needs help. An her there 
 all alone too. Ain t you got no heart ? " 
 
 " Plenty," replied Tom, unmoved by the harrowing 
 picture as detailed by his brother, " but I guess she d be 
 able to shove along without yore help, seein she s been 
 a-doin it for a few years more or less. But go ahead. 
 Run hell-bent into yore bad luck an shake hands with it 
 for all I care. I wouldn t stop yuh for a lot. Nawsir, 
 not me. Fly at it, cowboy, fly at it. Only don t say I 
 never warned yuh." 
 
 " I shore won t. How do I look with the green hand 
 kerchief?" 
 
 " Like the wrath o Gawd. I m tellin yuh, Red, blind 
 fold the hoss yo re gonna ride, or yuh ll never get the 
 saddle on." 
 
 Red, riding out of Farewell, knew that he was diso 
 beying orders, but he salved his conscience by telling him 
 self that Piney was getting along all right. Of course he 
 was. What was the use of sitting round like a bump on 
 a log? Obviously there was no use. Quite so. 
 
 When he sighted the nester s ranch-house, he rode 
 warily, his eyes turning from side to side. He did not 
 expect a too hostile reception, but with a sudden lady 
 like Miss Lorimer one could not be too careful. 
 
 No human being was visible in the vicinity. Below a 
 smokeless chimney the kitchen door sagged open on its 
 recently mended hinges. Beyond the spring he saw the 
 Lorimer horses grazing. 
 
 He dismounted in front of the kitchen, dropped the 
 reins over his horse s head and approached the door. 
 
 " Hello," he called, halting at the step. 
 
 "Hello. Who s there?" It was the weak voice of 
 Lorimer speaking from the inner room. 
 
 " It s me, Red Kane," replied the puncher, entering on 
 the word and walking through the kitchen into the room 
 where the wounded man lay on his springless bunk. 
 
The Dark Places 115 
 
 It was hot in the sick-room, hotter than it was out 
 doors, although all the windows were open wide. The 
 bandaged nester, covered simply by a thin sheet, stared 
 up at Red Kane with fever-bright eyes. 
 
 " I seen yuh before," he said, low-voiced, his words 
 slurring and sliding together. " You was in that store 
 in Farewell, an yuh was here when them fellers tried to 
 make out I was a road agent. I remember yuh. Si 
 down." 
 
 "How do yuh feel?" asked Red cheerily. "Wanna 
 drink or somethin ? " 
 
 " My daughter left a pail an dipper on that chair be 
 fore she went fishin , an , o course, clumsy-like, I had to 
 jerk it down off the chair, an it rolled under the bunk. 
 I would be obliged for a drink. Kind o thirsty weather, 
 ain t it?" 
 
 " Yeah," mumbled Red, on his hands and knees and 
 half under the bunk. " I ll have yuh forgettin the 
 weather in no time." 
 
 He scrambled to his feet and hurried out to the spring. 
 He returned with a full and slopping pail, set it on the 
 chair and dipped in the dipper. With a touch as gentle 
 as a woman s he slipped a hand beneath the nester s head, 
 raised it from the pillow and held the dipper to the dry 
 lips. 
 
 Lorimer drank in great noisy gulps. Three brimming 
 dipperfuls were required before his thirst was quenched. 
 After the dipper had been sunk in the pail for the 
 fourth time, he lay back on the pillow with a long sigh 
 of relief. 
 
 " Naw, no more," he said in reply to Red s question. 
 " Shore feels fine, that does. I dunno when I wanted a 
 drink so bad." 
 
 Red espied a crumpled towel beside the bunk. He 
 picked it up. It was damp. 
 
 " My daughter wet that an put it on my head," ex- 
 
1 1 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 plained Lorimer. " She said it was good for the fever, 
 but it fell off an I couldn t reach it." 
 
 Red poured cold water over the towel, wrung it partly 
 out and then laid the cool and soppy cloth across the burn 
 ing forehead. The wounded man smiled haggardly. 
 
 " That s great," he muttered. " Feels almost as good 
 outside as it does inside." 
 
 Lorimer ceased speaking and closed his eyes. Think 
 ing that the wounded man wished to sleep Red went out 
 side for a short smoke. When he returned, Lorimer was 
 picking at the sheet and muttering to himself. The wet 
 towel had slipped from his forehead and hung down over 
 the side of the bunk. Red dampened the towel and re 
 adjusted it. Lorimer moved his head wearily from side 
 to side. He ceased not to mutter and pick at the sheet. 
 By and by he spoke more clearly. Here and there Red 
 caught words, phrases, parts of sentences. 
 
 " The money," came the words, followed by a numble. 
 Then : " Course I took it m-m-m-m-m do it again m-m-m- 
 
 m-m-m didn have no right to it all m-m-m-m-m-m 
 
 thieves m-m-m-m-m rob m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m rob my 
 daughter m-m-m-m-Dot m-m-m-m-m-need n argufy m- 
 m-m-m I know who s right! Money s mine! Mine, by 
 
 ! I tell yuh it s mine ! I took it ! I tell you I had a 
 
 right to ! It s mine ! Mine ! " 
 
 Lorimer was sitting bolt upright in the bunk. He was 
 pointing his finger at the horrified Red and screaming out 
 his words. The puncher tried to quiet him, to push him 
 down on the pillow. But the nester fought him off and, 
 shrieking, raved on about his rights and his money. 
 
 Red, devoutly thankful that no one was within earshot, 
 did not give up striving to calm the nester. He did his 
 earnest best, but he might as well have poured oil on a 
 fire. Lorimer roared and bellowed and beat the sides of 
 the bunk with his fists. 
 
 " Them ribs o his must be busted over again by this 
 
The Dark Places 117 
 
 time," the perspiring puncher told himself, " so I guess I 
 just gotta be rough an get done with it." 
 
 Taking care not to squeeze the nester s torn shoulder 
 and side, Red, exerting all his strength, forced the nester 
 down on the mattress and held him there. Lorimer per 
 force lay quietly, but he could still talk and he did. 
 
 " I got that money," he kept shrieking eternally. " I 
 got that money, an it s mine ! I d a killed him, if I d had 
 to! But I didn t kill him! I dunno who did! They 
 said I did! But I didn t!" 
 
 In spite of the fact that Sweetwater Mountain was a 
 lonely spot Red s warm perspiration was succeeded by 
 the cold sweat of apprehension. Suppose some one 
 should ride by. Involuntarily he shivered and quite with 
 out intention glanced out of the window. What he saw in 
 the distance was sufficiently unnerving. The fact had been 
 father to the thought, apparently. Topping a rise two 
 miles away was a band of horsemen. They were riding 
 directly toward the ranch-house, and here was Lorimer 
 yelling to high heaven what he had done in a certain affair 
 wherein figured a sum of money. Once let the riders 
 hear a single connected sentence and the nester would be 
 convicted out of his own mouth. Nothing could save 
 him. 
 
 Red clapped his hand over Lorimer s mouth and was 
 promptly bitten. The bold Red jerked his hand away 
 and, struck by a sudden idea, darted outside to his horse. 
 All in a stew of haste, he unstrapped his rope and rushed 
 back with it. Working with the speed of one engaged 
 in contest for a prize, he tied down the delirious Lorimer 
 in his bunk and gagged him with the wet towel. When 
 Red was through with him, Lorimer could breathe fairly 
 well and could wiggle his toes. Otherwise he had no 
 freedom of action whatever. 
 
 Red looked through the window. The oncoming rid 
 ers had halved the distance between the rise and the ranch- 
 
1 1 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 house. The puncher, at gaze, heard a slight noise be 
 hind him. He whirled about and saw that Miss Lorimer 
 had returned. 
 
 He saw too that she was cocking a Winchester, and he 
 read a purpose in her black eyes. There was no time to 
 explain or parley. He sprang straight at her and dashed 
 aside the rifle barrel. 
 
 The Winchester went off with a flash and a roar. In 
 that confined space the sound was terrific. Half deafened 
 and coughing in the acrid smoke, Red Kane wrenched 
 the Winchester from the hands of Dot Lorimer, flung 
 the weapon into a corner and seized the lady s hands 
 barely in time to prevent her from dragging out a skin- 
 ning-knife. 
 
 She kicked and clawed like a wild thing entrapped, but 
 he drew one of her arms behind her back in a hammer- 
 lock, twisted her body round and, holding her other wrist, 
 pressed his hard forearm against her throat. 
 
 " Yuh li l fool ! " he whispered fiercely into her indig 
 nant ear, she continuing to struggle, small good though 
 it did her. " Yuh li l fool ! Yore pa was a-raisin the 
 roof at full shout till you could hear him a mile all 
 about some money he took an how he d do it again an 
 kill anybody tryin to stop him! That s why I tied him 
 down an gagged him ! Don t yuh see that posse comin 
 out yonder? How long do yuh guess yore pa d last if 
 they heard him a-talkin like that? I m yore friend, I 
 tell yuh. If you wasn t a plumb born fool, yuh d see it. 
 Get a-hold o yoreself an have sense, will yuh ? " 
 
 Here he shook her with such violence that her teeth 
 rattled. Then he sat her down hard on a chair. 
 
 " Do yuh understand? " he asked, shaking her again. 
 
 She stared up at him, her dark eyes bright with rage. 
 The hoof -patter swelled to a thuttering drum. The 
 horsemen were very near. The rage in her eyes died. 
 She gazed anxiously through the window. 
 
The Dark Places 119 
 
 " I understand," she whispered. "I Oh, they re al 
 most here." 
 
 Red Kane loosed his hold upon her at once, ran into the 
 kitchen and, halting in the doorway, fell into an easy, hip- 
 shot, quite-at-home posture. He folded his arms, ca 
 ressed his chin with steady fingers and regarded the new 
 comers calmly. 
 
 " Lanpher an the 88," he muttered, " an lookin a 
 heap earnest too." 
 
 The bunched outfit split like a bursting shell in front of 
 the ranch-house. While some rode to secure the sides 
 and rear of the building, the others, Lanpher in the van, 
 deployed and halted in front of the doorway blocked by 
 Red Kane s lanky-limbed frame. 
 
 The drink had not yet died in Lanpher. When it did, 
 he would go to pieces and see things where nothing was. 
 But now he was brave as several lions. He gazed upon 
 Red Kane with a filmy, bloodshot eye. A sneer lifted his 
 upper lip till the white teeth showed beneath. The ex 
 pressions of the men at his back were heavily determined. 
 Red smiled slowly. 
 
 " Howdy, boys," was his greeting. " What brings all 
 yore happy Sunday faces so far from home? An yore 
 manager too. Ain t yuh afraid the ranch will run away 
 while yo re gone, Lanpher? " 
 
 " Where s that nester? " demanded Lanpher. 
 
 Red Kane s cheerful grin leaped to meet the other s 
 ominous grimness. He leaned comfortably against the 
 door jamb and pushed back his hat. 
 
 " The nester?" he queried in a lazy drawl. "Oh, 
 yeah, shore, the nester. You mean Mr. Lorimer. It s 
 shore good o yuh to come all this way to see him. He ll 
 appreciate it when I tell him." 
 
 " Yuh needn t bother," said Lanpher. " We ll tell him. 
 We want this nester for rustlin that money out o the 
 express box, an we re gonna have him. You slide out o 
 
120 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 that doorway. I m gonna go in that house, an you nor 
 no other man is gonna stop me." 
 
 Lanpher dismounted and started toward the door. Rod 
 Rockwell, Slim Mack and a puncher named Moresby fol 
 lowed their manager s example. Tom Bowling remained 
 in the saddle. Red Kane was a friend of his, and Tom 
 knew that Red was careless of consequences when crossed. 
 Let Lanpher do the crossing. Besides, Tom Bowling 
 was beginning to have doubts concerning the nester s 
 guilt. Lanpher insisted that he had the necessary proof, 
 but of honest-to-God specific evidence he had not men 
 tioned a single detailed shred. Tom Bowling sagged 
 back against the cantle and folded his hands on top of the 
 saddle-horn. 
 
 As Lanpher and his three men approached the door, 
 Red Kane did not move. In his heart Red expected to 
 die violently within two minutes. To be precise, he al 
 lowed himself some sixty seconds of life. He was one 
 individual. The 88 numbered a full score of fairly will 
 ing fighting-men. The present moment was far differ 
 ent from that other when Carlson and the crowd from 
 Farewell had arrived with intent to lynch. Then Kan 
 sas Casey had been on the ground. Kansas was a hard 
 and willing fighter. And behind Kansas loomed the 
 Majesty of the Law. Ostensibly it had been the girl 
 and what she said at the critical split second that had 
 fended off disaster, but in reality it had been Kansas and 
 his star. Legend to the contrary notwithstanding, men 
 do not relish killing a deputy sheriff. It spells trouble 
 in letters of the largest size. 
 
 Yet no hint of Red s grisly expectations appeared in 
 his expression. He continued to smile pleasantly and 
 look at Lanpher with serene, half-closed eyes. Tom 
 Bowling, observant person that he was, perceived that 
 Red, while he still stood with folded arms, had slightly 
 shifted the position of those arms. Red s left hand was 
 
The Dark Places 121 
 
 partly hidden by an outstanding fold of his right sleeve. 
 Tom was glad that he had chosen to play a waiting part. 
 
 " Not another step ! " suddenly rapped out Red, flicking 
 up his left hand. 
 
 Lanpher and his three adherents stared into the twin 
 barrels of Red s derringer. But Lanpher was beyond be 
 ing daunted by even a .50 caliber firearm. A spasm con 
 torted his features, and his right hand flashed downward. 
 
 Red Kane immediately shot him through the neck and 
 right arm, and, firing through the bottom of his holster, 
 distributed five bullets among Slim Mack, Rod Rockwell 
 and Moresby. But these three had been hardly slower 
 than Red in getting into action. 
 
 Red Kane, hit in four places, felt as if a veil of black 
 mist were descending upon him. He put up a hand 
 to brush away the mist. But the mist was thick and 
 sticky, and in the distance red lightnings flashed and 
 thunder rolled. It was very curious. The sky had been 
 clear a moment ago. How odd that there should be a 
 thunderstorm. He mustn t get his new shirt or Tim 
 Page s handkerchief wet. The colors might run. He 
 should have brought his brother s slicker. 
 
 And now a high wind began to blow, and the dark mist 
 swirled and whirled in seething eddies above the face of 
 great waters great gray waters that stretched away 
 and away as the mist lifted to a dim and curiously en 
 grailed horizon. The mist cleared off completely, and 
 the strange horizon slid nearer, and the points of the en 
 grailing became trees, the chestnut-leaved white-oak of 
 the South. 
 
 The waters turned from gray to blue, a blue shot with 
 sparkles that came and went in the play of the sunshine 
 on the ripples. 
 
 Hear that regular thump and beat of mighty paddles. 
 The Star of the West was coming round a bend. There 
 were her tall twin stacks, with billowy smoke a-trailing, 
 
122 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 lifting over the tree-tops. See the white bonnet of steam 
 from her whistle. But you wouldn t hear the long-drawn 
 bellow for several seconds after the steam vanished. 
 Hear it now. Sounds like a bull in a rage, doesn t it? 
 The General Johnstone was the only other steamer on the 
 river that had a deeper, louder whistle than the Star of 
 the West. But then the former was a New Orleans 
 packet, while the Star of the West hailed from Natchez- 
 under-the-Hill. 
 
 There was a series of creaks and small crashes at Red s 
 left. He turned his head. A large and energetic razor- 
 back was rooting its way beneath the palings enclosing 
 Maje Throstlewit s yard. As he looked, the lean hog 
 squinched through and, a wisp of straw caught in a ragged 
 ear, rushed grunting into Maje s patch of corn. From 
 the house issued Maje s wife, brandishing a broom. At 
 her heels ran Maje, corncob short held between his teeth 
 and sticking right under his nose the way it always did. 
 Some day, if Maje wasn t careful, he d swallow the stem. 
 
 Red laughed to see the pair chase the hog between the 
 cornstalks. Maje was calling the hog names. His wife 
 was panting. Now and then one of the two would man 
 age to whack the pig, and the razorback, amid a flurry of 
 squeals, would tear off at a tangent. 
 
 Maje Throstlewit and his wife! It was years since 
 he had seen them. Strange, too, that he should see them, 
 for he had heard that both had lost their lives when the 
 Modoc s boilers burst during a race with the War Eagle. 
 
 The Star of the West was steaming on a long slant. 
 She was swinging her gangplank. She was coming in. 
 Hear the bells and the mate bawling at the roustabouts. 
 Pretty extra good mate. It was told of him that he could 
 swear steadily at a fair rate of speed for twelve minutes 
 without repeating himself once. But this was mere hear 
 say. Red didn t know whether to believe it or not. 
 
 Hello, there was his brother Tom coming down to the 
 
The Dark Places 123 
 
 landing. He was barefooted, his hat lacked half the 
 brim, and one suspender secured with two horseshoe nails 
 held up his ragged pantaloons. Red glanced down at his 
 own trousers and discovered they were even more ragged 
 than Tom s. He too was barelegged, and one of his big 
 toes wore a dirty bandage made fast with coarse cotton 
 thread. 
 
 Tom sat down at his side, and together they watched 
 the steamer make the landing and the passengers come 
 ashore. There was whiskered Colonel Weeks with his 
 fat stomach and his bunch of heavy seals hanging from 
 a fob. He had a handsome daughter, Miss Josephine. 
 Yes, there she was, poke-bonnet and all, holding a tiny 
 parasol over her head. Waiting to welcome her father, 
 the pretty dear. And Brother Jonathan Simms, the local 
 evangelist, with his high hat and burning eyes. Brother 
 Jonathan turned his peculiar, smoldering gaze full upon 
 Red. The eyes grew larger and larger, glowing a 
 brighter and brighter yellow, till, of a sudden, Red saw 
 that they were not the evangelist s eyes but the two lamp- 
 lit kitchen windows of his own home. He was walking 
 toward them through the warm Arkansas dusk. The 
 hellydids and the crickets were busy about their affairs 
 in the wood behind the house, and the frogs were saying 
 " jug o rum " as hard as they could croak. 
 
 He went into the kitchen and found that his mother 
 had saved supper for him as usual. She never failed him 
 in anything. There was an extra piece of pie, too. 
 My, how good the corn-pone was. Mother s corn-pone 
 never tasted gritty as some folks did. The cold fried 
 chicken was just about right. He gnawed a luscious 
 drumstick fife-fashion and squared his hard young el 
 bows on the table. 
 
 He laid down the drumstick and grinned to think what 
 Tom had missed. Where was Tom anyway ? He looked 
 out of the window and saw, instead of Tom, the mid- 
 
124 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 summer moon high above the black wedge of the Baptist 
 Church spire. 
 
 How distinctly he could see the face of the Man in the 
 Moon. The Man was laughing and winking a great and 
 kindly eye. Subtly the features altered. How much 
 they resembled the features of his friend Tom Bowling, 
 who rode for the 88 ranch. The Man in the Moon 
 stopped winking, and Red saw that he was quite close, 
 in the room, in fact. Why, it wasn t the Man in the Moon 
 at all. It was Tom Bowling. He wasn t two feet away. 
 Red could touch him if he wanted to. He tried to lift an 
 arm. But the arm wouldn t lift. What was the matter 
 with his arms? He couldn t move either of them. He 
 wanted to cry. He had to close his eyes hard and hold 
 them shut tightly for a long minute in order to keep back 
 the tears. When he opened them again, the face of Tom 
 Bowling had disappeared and the face of Bot Lorimer 
 had taken its place. There was not much snap in the 
 black eyes now. They were soft and tired-looking and 
 very, very tender. A sense of delicious peace pervaded 
 Red s whole being. 
 
 " This is shore heaven at last," he muttered low, so 
 low that she had to bend her head to catch the words. 
 " This is shore heaven, an yo re one of the angels." 
 
CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 THE STRANGER 
 
 FOLLOWED a period of seven days during which Red 
 lay waking little and sleeping much, days through which 
 flitted shadow glimpses of Dot Lorimer and Tom Dow- 
 ling. At times he would be given queer-tasting liquids 
 to drink. At times his head was bathed in cool water. 
 
 On the morning of the eighth day Red opened his eyes 
 on a bright, sharply denned world. Directly above him 
 were the heavy logs of a ranch-house roof. He turned 
 his head sidewise and saw that he was in a bunk set 
 against one end of a small room. At the other end of 
 the room was an open doorway, through which he 
 glimpsed the vista of a much larger room opening into 
 the kitchen. He knew it was the kitchen. He could see 
 the stove. But the view through the doorway interested 
 him not at all. For, beside the doorway of his room, 
 beneath a window, was a heavy homemade table, and at 
 the table, one hand clutching a piece of bread, the other 
 holding a tin cup, sat Dot Lorimer. 
 
 Manifestly sleep had overtaken the lady. Her body 
 swayed gently forward and back. Her head was nod 
 ding. In through the window streamed the sunbeams 
 and turned the dark hair into a helmet of black and 
 shining metal. It speaks well for Dot Lorimer s good 
 looks that, despite the food, despite the tin cup, despite 
 the head-nodding, she was definitely handsome. Red 
 sighed. 
 
 At the slight sound the girl awoke with a start, dropped 
 bread and cup and crossed quickly to the bed. 
 
126 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " How do you feel now ? " she asked, laying one hand 
 on his forehead. 
 
 " Out o sight," he replied, mustering up a smile. 
 
 " You ought to," she said, smiling in return. " Your 
 fever s all gone, although you had a great deal at first. I 
 kept it down with hickory ash and water as well as I 
 could. Guess you ve slept enough so I shan t give you 
 any more henbane. What you need now is a tonic. I 
 wish I had some white-wood bark, but I haven t a bit; 
 I ll have to do the best I can with swamp dogwood. Lie 
 quiet now while I m in the kitchen. After a while I ll 
 look at your wounds and dress them." 
 
 " Lordy ! " murmured Red, his eyes following her re 
 treating figure with respect and admiration. " Hick 
 ory ash, henbane, swamp dogwood! Regular doctor, 
 she is." 
 
 Came in Tom Bowling from the kitchen and sat down 
 beside the bed. 
 
 " Lo, old-timer," grinned Tom, who had dark cres 
 cents beneath his eyes and fine lines of weariness at the 
 corners of his mouth. " How you feelum? " 
 
 11 Like I could dance," said Red. " Whatsa matter 
 with me? I don t seem to hurt much anywhere, con- 
 siderin ." 
 
 Yo re only shot in four places. Outside o that they s 
 nothin the matter with you. But don t yuh worry none. 
 All them bullets sifted through. Every one of em s in 
 the kitchen wall right now." 
 
 " Seems like I do remember a fraycas," admitted Red, 
 wrinkling his forehead. 
 
 " Yo re improvin ," Tom said dryly. " They was a 
 short riot. . You had a argument with Lanpher, Slim 
 Mack, Rockwell an Moresby. You drilled Lanpher 
 twice, an I did hear how he ain t expected to live, but 
 I guess that ain t true he s too mean to die, that feller. 
 You put three holes in Slim Mack, busted one of his ribs 
 
The Stranger 127 
 
 an a arm in two places. Yessir," the bloodthirsty Mr. 
 Bowling continued with relish, " Slim Mack s almost as 
 bad as Lanpher. Rockwell an Moresby got off easy. 
 Rod only lost the upper half of one ear an Moresby went 
 shy his right thumb. Tough on Moresby, sort o . He 
 never could shoot left-handed, an , if he can t learn, he ll 
 be plumb afoot with a six-gun." 
 
 " Where did I get it? " Red queried impatiently. 
 
 " Both arms, one leg, an yore shoulder. The lead cut 
 an artery in yore leg, too. She had quite a time with that, 
 Miss Lorimer did, but she made out to sew it up with 
 a harness needle an thread." 
 
 " Yeah? An I never knowed it? Yo re crazy." 
 
 " I ain t crazy, but you was out of yore head alia time. 
 You was delirious an senseless an ravin an Gawd knows 
 what all for twelve days." 
 
 "Twelve days!" 
 
 " Twelve whole days from the time you was plugged 
 till yuh got sensible again, an I dunno as yuh was so 
 sensible at that." 
 
 " Twelve days since I was shot," marveled Red. 
 
 " Nineteen," corrected Tom Bowling. " She s seven 
 full days since yuh stopped ravin an been senseless. 
 Add twelve an seven an yuh get nineteen." 
 
 But Red s brain was not equal to problems in addition. 
 Besides, another question kept bobbing up and down in 
 his mind. 
 
 "Where was the rest o yore outfit alia time?" he 
 asked. " Why didn t they chime in an an What 
 are you doin here, anyhow ? " Then, before Tom could 
 make reply, a wave of remembrance came to Red, and he 
 cried sharply : " Bid they was he did they get him?" 
 
 " Him ? Who ? Oh, you mean Ben Lorimer. Naw, 
 they didn t get him. They they decided not to." 
 
 " They did? What decided em? " 
 
 "Bamfino. How s that sheet feel, Red? Kind o 9 
 
128 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 ruffled under the ol chin. I ll fix her. There, that s all 
 right now, huh ? " 
 
 "Why don t you tell him who stopped them?" in 
 quired from the doorway the quiet voice of Miss Lorimer. 
 " He stopped them, Mr. Kane. They d have killed you 
 where you lay and undoubtedly would have hung my 
 father if Mr. Bowling hadn t jumped from his horse and 
 persuaded them not to." 
 
 " Shucks," muttered Mr. Bowling. " Guess I better 
 go after some water." 
 
 He rose and fled past Miss Lorimer to the kitchen and 
 the outer air. 
 
 " Of course he s modest about it," went on Miss Lor 
 imer. " He would be. He s that kind. But I turn cold 
 all over whenever I think what surely would have hap 
 pened if Mr. Bowling hadn t been here. He swore he 
 would shoot the first man that pulled a gun, and I guess 
 they believed him. And he s been here ever since helpin 
 me." 
 
 " Tom s a right good feller," Red told her warmly, 
 an _ What?" 
 
 She had moved close to the bunk and was looking down 
 at him. The fingers of her capable hands were twisting 
 together nervously. 
 
 " You you dud-did more than any one," she stam 
 mered. "I I can t thank you. Words don t count 
 somehow." 
 
 It was Red s turn to be uncomfortable. 
 
 " I didn t do nothin ," he said, his face and neck prick 
 ling hotly. 
 
 " You fought for for us," she continued unsteadily, 
 " when you had no reason to when you had every rea 
 son not to. And and I thought you were a spy when 
 I saw my father bound and gagged, and I was goin to 
 shoot you. Oh, you re just wonderful ! " 
 
 The warm prickling invaded his spinal column. 
 
The Stranger 129 
 
 " Tha s all right," was all he could say. " Tha s all 
 right." 
 
 " I wish I could make it up to you. I can t bear to see 
 you sufferin that way for for us." 
 
 " Lordy, ma am, I ain t sufferin . Which I should say 
 not. Sufferin , huh! Ain t you a-takin care o me? 
 An after me handlin you so rough that time. I shore 
 had to do it, ma am. It was the only wagon-track out. 
 But I didn t aim to be a bother to yuh like I am now, an 
 you with yore father sick an all. How is he feelin 
 now?" 
 
 " He s all right. His rib couldn t have knitted better. 
 The day you were shot was his last bad time. He s been 
 improvin ever since. He ll be in to see you later on. 
 I make him sit out by the spring in the shade as much 
 as possible. He s there now. While the dogwood bark s 
 boilin , I guess I ll just dress your wounds. And don t 
 you worry about being a bother. Bother indeed ! " 
 
 In a very workmanlike fashion she took off the band 
 ages, cleansed the wounds, and applied a substance re 
 sembling blue sand. This, she informed him, was a 
 mixture of wild indigo root and common brown sugar 
 pounded to powder. 
 
 " I was afraid of infection," was her explanation. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that he heard her. For embar 
 rassment was consuming him. False embarrassment, to 
 be sure. But it was for all that a most unpleasant sen 
 sation. 
 
 " I m awfully sorry it hurts so," she said, remarking the 
 beads of perspiration on his forehead. " I m almost 
 through." 
 
 As a matter of fact, the pain of the dressing was endur 
 able. But he could not have told her so to save his life. 
 He was long past speech. She finished rebandaging, set 
 tled his head on the pillow to his liking and hers, and 
 smiled widely. 
 
130 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " You ll do till to-morrow," said she and withdrew to 
 the kitchen. 
 
 He could hear a pan cover clink now and then. He 
 could hear her humming to herself. It was a sprightly 
 catch and a merry. She began to whistle the air. It 
 went even better. He wondered what the name might 
 be. When she came in with the dogwood infusion, he 
 asked her. 
 
 " Like the tune? " said she, setting the cup on the table. 
 " So do I. It s called Chelsea Reach , and it s old as 
 Job s turkey, but there s somethin about it that sets the 
 blood to spinnin and the heart to beatin faster. I ll 
 sing you a song if you like." 
 
 He said he would like. So, standing against the wall, 
 without a trace of marring shyness, she gave him " John 
 Peel " in an alto as clear as a bell. 
 
 " That s shore a real song," he said, when she had 
 sung it through. " Liked to get up early in the mornin , 
 didn t he, that feller? The last verse is sort o sad-like. 
 Sound s if Mr. Peel was dead. Is he? " 
 
 " I m afraid he is." 
 
 " That s tough. I ll bet I d a enjoyed knowin Mr. 
 Peel. I had a dog named Bellman myself once back east 
 in Arkansas. But he fit a bear one time, an I had to 
 bury him. I wonder, ma am, could I have a smoke? " 
 
 " I don t believe it would hurt you. I ll roll you one." 
 
 She went into the next room for tobacco and a paper. 
 While she was gone, Red saw a man ride past the window. 
 The horse was the long-legged gray with the corn coming 
 in his near fore hoof, and the man was the wide-shoul 
 dered stranger with the wide, unsmiling mouth. The 
 horseman did not stop at the house. Doubtless he was 
 going to the spring. 
 
 The pad-pad of the horse s feet ceased abruptly. Arose 
 then the murmur of voices. The stranger was talking to 
 Lorimer. Red could not distinguish more than a word 
 
The Stranger 131 
 
 here and there. He did not try to eavesdrop. But there 
 was no harm in listening, especially when he could do no 
 otherwise. 
 
 Miss Lorimer returned slowly, her supple fingers busy 
 with the fashioning of the cigarette. She raised the 
 pencil-thick roll to her mouth, gave it a swift lick down 
 along with the tip of a pink tongue, twisted one end and 
 stuck the other between Red s lips. 
 
 " Company for dinner," she told him, giving him a 
 light from a spill she brought in from the kitchen. 
 
 " Who is he? " he inquired between puffs. 
 
 " He ? " She cocked her eyebrows at him, pinching out 
 the spill between finger and thumb. " Oh, you saw him 
 through the window, didn t you? He rode up that side. 
 Lord knows who he is, I don t. Some stranger. Here 
 comes another. No, it isn t either. Why, it s the rela 
 tive you brought with you the first time you came 
 your brother. When you were lookin for rustled horses. 
 Remember? " 
 
 His face reddened at the recollection, and she laughed 
 at him over her shoulder as she went out into the kitchen. 
 Tom Kane had dismounted at the door. A moment later 
 the girl ushered him into the sickroom and, departing, 
 closed the door behind her. 
 
 Tom let himself down carefully into a chair and 
 grinned at his brother. Tom looked slightly the worse 
 for wear. A bandage gray with dust encircled his head, 
 and it was obvious that he had not shaved for many 
 days. Yet his grin was full of cheer. 
 
 " How re they comin ? " he demanded. 
 
 " In bunches," replied Red. " You look like you d met 
 up with a bunch yoreself. What happened? " 
 
 " Nothin much." Tom scraped the floor with the toe 
 of his boot and looked guilty. 
 
 "Who you been fightin with?" 
 
 " Well, I guess I got a right to as well as you. Hell s 
 
132 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 bells, Red, why didn t yuh tell a feller yuh was gonna go 
 up against that 88 bunch ? You poor fool, you ain t fit to 
 be trusted out o my sight. What do you think you are 
 a army? " 
 
 " How could I tell what I was runnin into ? " de 
 fended Red. " I didn t know nothin about it till it hap 
 pened." 
 
 " An yuh didn t know nothin much afterward, Tom 
 Bowling told me when he rid in to Farewell a couple o 
 days after the fraycas. That was the first I d heard of 
 it, an I d a come right out here instanter, only I wanted 
 to sort o settle up with the 88 first. Tom said you was 
 in good hands an he was gonna flock round with yuh an 
 sort o lookout yore game for a spell; so I let it go at 
 that an sashayed out myself after the 88. 
 
 " Naturally I had to be careful. They s only one o 
 me an a-plenty o them. But I cut the trail o two of 
 em a week later over near Soogan Creek. I ventilated 
 that freckle- faced Bill Allen through the leg an downed 
 both their hosses. I was tryin for a shot at Tile Stan- 
 ton when that crazy Lonzo Peters an Dan Gildersleeve 
 come whoopin along an I had to drag it sharp an soon. 
 They chased me, o course, but I worked a Injun trick on 
 em comin through the cottonwoods along the Lazy, an 
 Lonzo bit, an I nicked him. Plumb through the shoul 
 der, I heard later. That made two, an the work half 
 done. 
 
 " Four days later me an Bert Kinzie had a party on 
 Packsaddle. Bert burnt the side o my head a li l bit, an 
 I put a hole in his hand an drilled his arm. This made 
 three. Yuh see, I didn t wanna down nobody. They 
 didn t down you, an I was only out to play even for the 
 holes in yuh one gent nicked for every hole. What 
 could be fairer than that? But, o course, they didn t 
 know I wasn t really serious, an you better believe they 
 tried to beef me proper. They played cautious too. 
 
The Stranger 133 
 
 Kept a-ridin round in pairs. I had to walk in the water 
 a lot, you bet. 
 
 " But I wasn t in no hurry. I had all the time there is, 
 an final, yesterday afternoon, I met Dan Gildersleeve 
 slidin right down Main Street like he owned the town. 
 He seen me first, but his shot missed an mine didn t. 
 Dan got his jaw an cheek tore up some, he lost a few 
 teeth, an he busted his arm. But I didn t have nothin 
 to do with the arm. He done that himself when he fell 
 off his pony. 
 
 " Jake Rule yeah, the sheriff s back at last Jake, 
 he got kind o fussy an said I d been a-huntin trouble all 
 along an how I d oughta keep my feuds for out o town. 
 My feuds ! An Dan shootin at me first ! Well, I told 
 Jake what I thought about it, an he pulled in his horns. 
 Alia same, I don t guess I ll vote for Jake next election. 
 He s got too much to say for a sheriff." 
 
 Tom leaned back in his chair and nodded at Red with 
 keen satisfaction. 
 
 " Yo re paid for, old settler," said Tom. " Next time 
 I ll bet them 88 jiggers will look ahead a ways. Yes, 
 sir, I ll gamble they will." 
 
 " Yuh id jit," murmured Red affectionately. " You 
 never will learn sense. Bawlin at me for wrastlin with 
 a whole outfit when it s plumb necessary, an then you 
 hop out an do the same thing when it ain t. Don t talk 
 to me, you catfish. Seen Old Salt? Guess I lost my 
 job with the Bar S all right." 
 
 " I did an you have, but whadda you care ? Come in 
 the freightin business with me. Beats punchin cows a 
 mile. Yo re y own boss. They ain t no dog with a 
 brass collar to tell yuh what to do, an they s money in it 
 real, shore- nough money. Nemmine decidin now. 
 We ll talk about it when yuh get well. 
 
 "Man, I had to laugh at Old Salt! He was mad 
 enough to chew nails when he rode in to find out why 
 
134 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 yuh hadn t reported an heard what had happened. Yuh 
 know how his ol mustache jigs up an down when he s 
 riled. Well, sir, that set o whiskers shore kissed his 
 eyebrows in four places. This is a helluva note ! he 
 shouts. My best puncher laid up ! Yeah, he called 
 yuh that without thinkin . An a range war started to 
 boot ! blats on Old Salt. How n Gawd s name can a 
 man make money with such goin s-on! An business 
 was just a-hellin ! Couldn t a been better ! Red s fired ! 
 He can t never whirl a rope for the Bar S again. He 
 was shore turned upside down, Old Salt was, an he had 
 three drinks one after another in the Happy Heart all 
 by himself. Didn t even treat the barkeep." 
 
 " A range war ! " repeated Red, his gray eyes very 
 serious. " I wonder does he really mean that." 
 
 " Guess so," said cheerful Tom. " Them 88 sports are 
 mad clear through. Naturally, you bein Bar S, they 
 won t feel like huggin yore side-kickers when they meet. 
 Lively times, old settler, lively times. But, come to think 
 of it, the 88 can t do such a lot. They ain t many of 
 em to do it. First an last you n me have laid quite a 
 jag o them boys on the shelf seven gents an the man 
 ager. Nawsir, they ll be too short-handed for a spell to 
 do more than squall. Old Salt s a fool bellerin before 
 he s throwed." 
 
 " I didn t go for to start no range war," grieved Red, 
 thinking of his former comrades of the Bar S. " I 
 wouldn t want none of em to shuffle off on my account." 
 
 " They won t mind that none," declared Tom naively. 
 " They know youM do the same for them any time. 
 Don t let that worry yuh a minute, Red. We re all with 
 yuh, y bet yuh, an glad o the chance. Tom Dowling 
 said himself it was about time somebody put a crimp 
 in Lanpher. . . . Did he quit? Shore he quit. Said he 
 wouldn t work for no such outfit nohow. Guess he ll 
 ride for the Cross-in-a-box. Jack Richie said he d give 
 
The Stranger 135 
 
 him a job any time. Huh ? The jigger on the gray hoss ? 
 I didn t come out with him. He was ahead o me." 
 
 " Has he been in Farewell alia time? " queried Red. 
 
 " Stayed a week, thassall. Name s Hollister. I heard 
 him askin for mail one day." 
 
 "D hegetany?" 
 
 " Not that day." Tom glanced over his shoulder to 
 make sure the door was closed. " Say," he went on, 
 lowering his voice slightly, " you ain t asked her yet, 
 have yuh ? " 
 
 " Not yet, but when I m able to sit up, I m gonna do 
 it too quick. Coin in business with you, Tommy darlin , 
 is gonna make it a heap easier to support a wife. You 
 dunno how obliged I am to yuh, Tom. I ll try to make 
 it up to yuh some day." 
 
 Tommy darling stared blankly at his brother. 
 
 " I never thought o that," he said after a space. " I 
 yo re still set on marryin the lady?" 
 
 11 You bet." For a wounded man the declaration was 
 delivered with convincing snap. 
 
 " Well," said Tom, after another brow-wrinkling inter 
 val, " she s yore private funeral. An I guess it won t 
 hurt yore business value none." 
 
 When Tom had gone out to unsaddle for he was 
 staying to dinner Red s mind reverted uncomfortably 
 to the fact that Bowling had given Lorimer the proper 
 name of Ben. Red began to invent specious reasons why 
 there could not possibly be any connection between the 
 nester and the knife. Began and gave it up. 
 
CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 RECOVERY 
 
 OF course there was no reason why the unsmiling Mr. 
 Hollister should intrigue Red Kane. But he did intrigue 
 him from the moment that Red, looking through the 
 intervening doorways, saw him take a chair at the Lor- 
 imer dinner table. 
 
 There was nothing unusual about Hollister. He might 
 have been a puncher, a nester or a cattle buyer. What 
 ever his trade or profession, he was indubitably an out 
 door man. The deep tan of many summers under the 
 sun bore testimony to that. Minus his hat, Hollister dis 
 played a close-cut head of yellow hair. 
 
 During the meal Hollister said no word. He champed 
 and chewed unceasingly except when the spirit moved 
 him to drink. In both eating and drinking he was a 
 mighty trencherman before the Lord. He had three 
 heaping helpings of everything, besides nine biscuits and 
 seven cups of coffee. Red knew. He kept count. In 
 a land where men ate rather more than less, Hollister s 
 appetite was remarkable. Red wondered where he found 
 room to stow it all. For Hollister was not in the least 
 fat. As has been said, his body was slim. No woman 
 of fair size need have been ashamed to possess a waist 
 the size of Hollister s. 
 
 Immediately after the meal Hollister took horse and 
 departed eastward, Red was told by Miss Lorimer when 
 she brought him in a most nourishing drink concocted 
 of raw eggs, condensed milk and water. 
 
Recovery 137 
 
 " I didn t hear any hens a-cacklin ," said Red, when 
 she had wiped his mouth. 
 
 " Bless you, we haven t a chicken on the place. Your 
 brother brought them with him from Farewell. Wasn t 
 it thoughtful of him?" 
 
 Red agreed that it was. Tom, it appeared, was still 
 in a state of thoughtfulness. He was sitting on a rock 
 beyond the spring, his elbows on his knees and his head 
 in his hands. 
 
 " When I asked him if he had cramps," said the direct 
 Miss Lorimer, " and couldn t I give him a drink of 
 whisky, he said, No, he was just restin . Funny way to 
 rest, sittin down on a hard rock. Easy now, while I 
 slide my hand under your head. I want to plump up 
 your pillow for you. Are you sure your brother s all 
 right? Maybe that graze is deeper than it seems." 
 
 " They s nothin the matter with Tom," Red assured 
 her. " He s only got somethin on his mind, an he s 
 a-workin it out. That s the way he always does when 
 he thinks sits on somethin hard an wrastles his head 
 with both hands." 
 
 When Miss Lorimer went back to the kitchen, Red 
 puzzled his brain as to what Tom could be thinking about. 
 He knew it was not the feud with the 88. Tom was not 
 the man to brood on or worry over that. 
 
 Red, his mental exercise acting as a soporific, presently 
 dozed off. He slept the long warm afternoon away and 
 awoke in the dusk of the evening. A shaded lamp stood 
 on the table. In the chair sat Tom Bowling. He was 
 making cigarettes. There was a pile of them beside the 
 lamp. Bowling looked up at the slight sound of Red s 
 stirring. 
 
 " Miss Lorimer says yuh can smoke all you want," said 
 Bowling, getting up and coming to the bunk. " I had a 
 lot made this afternoon, but Tom he glommed the bunch, 
 an I never found it out till after he d gone. Yeah, he s 
 
138 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 went. Told me to tell yuh he d be out again soon s he 
 could. Here s a smoke for baby. Open the li l mouthy, 
 that s a good girl. Drag at it now with the li l ol bel 
 lows. Thassa boy. . . . Where s she at? Gone huntin 
 some kind o Injun yarb for yore scratches an another 
 brand o bark to bile up for yuh to drink. Say, what she 
 dunno about doctorin you could write on yore finger 
 nail, an yore littlest one at that. 
 
 " Gawd knows where she found that wild indigo an 
 dogwood. They ain t none growin round here I ever 
 heard tell of. She s a six-ply wonder, that lady. Why, 
 Red, one time you wouldn t believe how you was carryin 
 on yellin an hollerin all about a Maje Throstle wit 
 gent an a razor-back hawg an the Queen o the West an 
 corn-pone an fried chicken till yuh made my mouth water 
 just to listen to yuh you was carryin on an bouncin 
 round, an I was gonna tie yuh down before yuh busted 
 them bullet holes open. But Miss Lorimer wouldn t have 
 nothin like that. Not her. She takes some o this yarb 
 an a pinch o that bark an wood ashes ordinary wood 
 ashes an biles it up an cools it off an throws that 
 into yuh. An you don t holler more n three minutes 
 after. Nawsir, Red, you start a-millin right then, an* 
 pretty quick yo re all bedded down quiet an asleep. 
 
 " If I knowed as much thataway as she does, I d be 
 all swelled up like a poisoned pup. But not her; she just 
 acts like she don t know nothin . I tell yuh, she can walk 
 all over me any time an I ll enjoy it. An that s the kind 
 o hairpin I am." 
 
 Red s eyebrows drew together. Of course Miss Lor 
 imer was all that Tom Bowling said she was. But it 
 wasn t in the least necessary for Tom to praise her to Red. 
 It was none of Tom s business. What did the poor fool 
 mean anyway? Why couldn t he shut up? 
 
 Which was ungrateful of Red and unjust to Tom 
 Bowling. But Red was a sick man, and the sick are by 
 
Recovery 139 
 
 their very nature prone to magnify trifles. Was it pos 
 sible that Tom was falling in love with Miss Lorimer? 
 Indeed it was more than possible. Why not ? It would 
 be strange if that which Red considered beautiful did not 
 find favor in the eyes of other men. And Tom Dowling 
 had eyes. Oh, most certainly he had eyes. 
 
 Red lay, wretched and jealous while Tom Dowling 
 talked on, and cursed the luck that held him lapped in 
 bandages. What chance had a bedridden invalid against 
 a man who was up and about? To make love with any 
 likelihood of succeeding one must have the use of one s 
 arms of one hand at the least. And Red Kane could 
 barely wiggle his fingers. The handicap was rather over 
 whelming. 
 
 Under the circumstances it is no wonder that when Miss 
 Lorimer returned from her herb-gathering she found Red 
 Kane in a high fever. She sent Tom Dowling packing, 
 insisting in the face of his strong denial that he had in 
 some manner unknown to her excited the patient. 
 
 " I don t care," she said, as she shooed him into the 
 kitchen. " I don t mind your talkin to him. There s 
 no harm in that, but he mustn t be got all hot and worked 
 up. I won t have it, and I don t want to hear any ex 
 cuses either. The idea! I leave him cool and restin 
 easy, and I come back and find him restless as a cat and 
 soaked with perspiration. You re a fine person to leave 
 in charge. A fi-ine person, I must say. Don t you go 
 in there again without my permission. That s for you 
 too, Dad! . . . What? No, I don t care if you haven t 
 been in yet. You can t see him now. To-morrow 
 mornin perhaps." 
 
 " Y act as if we was kids!" her father cried indig 
 nantly. 
 
 " That s all you are," she shot back. " That s all any 
 man is just a big overgrown kid, and the quicker you 
 realize that important fact the better." 
 
140 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Fact important, " he repeated. " Quit that there 
 book-talkin , Dot. I don t like it." 
 
 " You be satisfied if I drop my g s." 
 
 "Who s boss round here?" demanded Lorimer, his 
 black eyes twinkling. 
 
 " I m boss, and don t you forget it for a minute." 
 
 " I guess yo re right at that," he admitted with a rue 
 ful grin. 
 
 " You bet I m right. Here ! don t lean sidewise. Bend 
 forward when you want to pick anythin off the floor. 
 You won t be able to fool with that rib for a week yet. 
 Boss! I should say so! If you didn t have one, I don t 
 know what would become of you." 
 
 " Now see what yuh done, Dot, talkin hard thataway," 
 remonstrated her father. " You ve scared Dowling so 
 he s gone out to the corral. He thinks you mean all them 
 words. He dunno how real skimmerin gentle you are 
 inside." 
 
 " Oh, I m gentle, am I ? Shows how much you know 
 about me. Sidown, Pa, do, till I get the table set." 
 
 A capable person, Dot Lorimer, as any one may see. 
 
 Red Kane listened to her talk and smiled gently to 
 himself. There was a girl for you! I should say so. 
 No nonsense about her. Not a bit. She d look after a 
 man. Gentle? Of course she was. You could tell that 
 with half an eye. Tom Kane was a fool. The more he 
 thought about it the more he realized how much of a fool 
 Tom Kane was. 
 
 " I ll have the laugh on Tom yet," Red told himself. 
 " Yes, sir, I ll shore make Tom eat his words without 
 salt." 
 
 Tom Dowling, however, remained a large fly in Red s 
 mustard. For Dowling, if he had been scared out to the 
 corral as reported by Lorimer, had gotten bravely over 
 his fright. He was much in the girl s company. Fre 
 quently Red heard them laughing together. To Red 
 
Recovery 141 
 
 these sounds of merriment were as the chuckling of fiends 
 in the Pit. Had he been able, he would have writhed. 
 But what he did not do physically he did mentally till his 
 teeth chattered. 
 
 But always these periods of torture and bitter de 
 pression would be dispelled by the lady herself, who would 
 bring Red a cool drink and plump up his pillow and cheer 
 him with old songs that, through her, he had learned to 
 love. And they would talk together of many things, the 
 little common things of which are built the lives and loves 
 and hopes of this our world. She told him stories too, 
 stories of men and women dead and dust these many 
 hundred years. 
 
 Of all these tales he liked the best the ones that dealt 
 with Robin Hood, an outlawed bowman who did a thriv 
 ing trade on the pad. Merry Robin was a favorite with 
 Miss Lorimer, it appeared, and she took pains to make 
 the archer live again for her listener. 
 
 " So you see," she said one day, at the end of the story 
 wherein Robin shoots against the foresters and kills a 
 man, " he was not really wicked. He had no desire to 
 leave his home, his people, and become an outlaw in the 
 greenwood. But he had no choice, don t you see. He 
 was forced forced by circumstances. And," she went 
 on, her eyes cast down upon her sewing, " I think that s 
 the way it is in real life sometimes. A man doesn t mean 
 to do wrong, but, with the best intentions in the world, he 
 does do wrong. Then again, there are times when a man, 
 without having done a thing out of the way, is absolutely 
 compelled to become an outlaw. A man must fight fire 
 with fire. Bother! I ve snapped my thread again." 
 She knotted the thread and raised her eyes to his a fleet 
 ing instant. " You believe that, don t you, about fight 
 ing fire with fire ? " 
 
 " Y bet yuh," he told her fervently. 
 
 In his then state he would have believed anything she 
 
142 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 wanted him to believe. After all, why not? What sort 
 of man is he who cannot see eye to eye with his heart s 
 desire? He is not in love, be sure of that. 
 
 " Ma am," he said suddenly, "is that Tom Bowling 
 round?" 
 
 " No, he s out back of the corral with Dad. Why ? " 
 
 " Will you marry me ? " 
 
 She leaned back in her chair and looked at him steadily. 
 A tiny smile lurked at one corner of her mouth, a dimple 
 at the other. 
 
 "I I " she began, and stopped, her upper lip 
 caught between her teeth. 
 
 " I don t mean now this minute," he cut in hastily. 
 " When I get well." 
 
 " I m afraid you re a little feverish," she said promptly, 
 and stretched out a cool hand and laid it on his fore 
 head. 
 
 " I ain t feverish," he exclaimed with impatience. 
 "Will you?" 
 
 The lurking smile became a laugh. She crossed her 
 knees, clasped her hands and swung a foot. 
 
 " Are you sure you know what love means ? " 
 
 " Shore I am. Why wouldn t I ? " 
 
 " I m not so sure you do. They say a man always 
 falls in love with his nurse." 
 
 " Who says so? " he demanded in wrath. 
 
 " Everybody. But it doesn t matter. What I have 
 to be sure of is your end of it. I must be absolutely sure 
 that you love me." 
 
 "Ain t I tellin yuh I love yuh? What more do yuh 
 want?" 
 
 " You may only think you re sure." 
 
 " If I could walk an use my arms I d quick show yuh 
 whether I loved yuh or not. Just because I m a-layin 
 here all crippled up, yuh " 
 
 " Walkin and usin your arms haven t a thing to do 
 
Recovery 143 
 
 with it, not a thing. Love is not to be lightly entered into, 
 and " 
 
 " I ain t enterin it lightly. I done told yuh the second 
 time I met yuh I was gonna marry yuh, an I m gonna 
 do it." 
 
 " Oh, no doubt you find me attractive. That s natural. 
 There aren t many women in this country, and a girl 
 with passable good looks is always considered a beauty. 
 You re young and impressionable. You meet me and 
 tumble hard. But it doesn t mean anything. I know 
 these love-at-a-glance affairs. They re in and out like a 
 dipping tank. In a year you d either have forgotten me 
 or would want to forget me. Suppose we re married. 
 What then ? Wouldn t I be in a fine fix ? " 
 
 vShe looked at him as severely as she was able. 
 
 " Do yuh know somethin ? " said he. " I believe yo re 
 lovin me alia time." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " Shore. Yuh gimme too many reasons against it 
 for em to be natural. Yuh don t mean a word of it, not 
 a word. If yuh didn t care nothin about me, yuh d a* 
 said No an been done with it. Lordy, I wish I could 
 move these here arms." 
 
 " I didn t say a word about myself," she observed 
 calmly. " I didn t say I couldn t love you, you know. 
 It may be that I could love you I ve always had a 
 weakness for red hair. Yes, it s quite possible." 
 
 She nodded to him and smiled again and continued to 
 swing her foot. 
 
 " Could you love me? " he asked, controlling his voice 
 by an effort. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I could love you. I m reasonably sure of 
 that." 
 
 Then if you could love me an I do love you, I don t 
 see what s to stop our gettin married." 
 
 " Now we re back where we started. Could and 
 
1 44 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 do aren t the same by a long mile. Before I marry 
 you, or any one, I must first be sure that I am more to 
 them to him, I mean, or you than a passin fancy. 
 You see, in this I m thinkin of them him or you. As 
 a wife I d do my best to make my husband happy, but as 
 a passin fancy I d make my husband wish he d never 
 been born. It s all or nothin with me. Oh, I m a 
 jealous cat when I have reason, and I d be liable to throw 
 things. How d you like it if I should hit you in the eye 
 with a plate ? " 
 
 " You sound like my brother," he told her seriously. 
 
 "Your brother?" " 
 
 " That s the way he talks against marriage. But I 
 always tell him he dunno what he s talkin about, the poor 
 fool, the way I m tellin you now." 
 
 " You mean I m a poor fool? " Her voice shook with 
 mirth. 
 
 " You know well enough what I mean. I mean you ll 
 never heave no crockery at me. Cause why? Cause 
 you ll never have reason. Yuh can shake yore head all 
 yo re a mind to. I know what I know, an I know what 
 I m gonna do when I get well. I ll make you see that I 
 love you, an I ll make yuh admit yuh love me right out 
 loud an plain. What s fairer than that? " 
 
 The lady put her head on one side and regarded him 
 steadfastly. 
 
 " We ll see," she said presently. " We ll see." 
 
CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 THIN ICE 
 
 RED, convalescing, was sitting on the bench outside the 
 kitchen door with Lorimer. Red s wounded leg was 
 stretched straight out. The bullet had made a jagged 
 wound, and there was still danger of bursting it open. 
 But Red s arms and shoulder, beyond a slight twinge or 
 stiffness now and again, were completely whole. So 
 nearly recovered was he that Tom Dowling had gone to 
 his waiting job at the Cross-in-a-box. 
 
 In front of the two men on the bench were lined up 
 on horseback the sheriff, Jake Rule, Kansas Casey, his 
 deputy, and a man named Bill Derr, half owner of a 
 ranch south of Seymour. Mr. Derr, a person of even 
 taller, leaner build than the nester Lorimer, was said to 
 know more concerning the territorial criminal element 
 than twenty sheriffs. His work had been, and at times 
 still was, man-hunting. He was engaged to Miss Blythe, 
 Mike Flynn s partner in the Blue Pigeon. 
 
 Now Bill Derr turned his washed-out gray eyes on the 
 two officers of the law and laughed shortly. Kansas and 
 Jake looked sheepish. 
 
 " I guess I gotta make allowances for you fellers," 
 said Derr, to the enjoyment of the spectators on the 
 bench and the listening girl in the kitchen, " but I dunno 
 why yuh didn t write for a fuller description of this Hud 
 son gent before draggin me north. You d a saved us 
 all trouble. I wouldn t mind if Mister Lorimer was John 
 Hudson, cause John rustled one o my ponies once, but, 
 
146 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 when he don t even look like him, it shore gives me a 
 pain." 
 
 " The county ll pay the bill ! " cried the stung sheriff. 
 
 " You bet it will," said Bill Derr, " an I won t be none 
 easy on it neither." 
 
 At this juncture there appeared on the top of the ridge 
 to the west what was apparently a riderless horse. On 
 its nearer approach it was discovered to be ridden by a 
 small and hatless boy. The horse galloped in and slid 
 to a halt. The small boy, one of Galloway s youngsters, 
 panting with excitement and the rush of his ride, straight 
 ened his bare legs and wiped his exceedingly dirty face 
 on his sleeve. His mount, white with lather where 
 leather or blanket touched its hide, soaked with sweat 
 elsewhere, stood with spread legs and dropped head. Its 
 flanks heaved like hard-pumped bellows, and its red nos 
 trils blew in and out. 
 
 " You n Kansas are wanted instanter, Sheriff ! " shrilled 
 the small boy, pop-eyed with importance. 
 
 " What for?" asked Jake Rule, for young Galloway 
 was not manifesting the respect due his office. 
 
 "You ll see," replied the small boy. "The stage s 
 been held up again south o Injun Ridge an they robbed 
 the Gov nor o the Territory of his gold watch an all his 
 money an he s wild an he wants to see you right away." 
 
 The small boy bobbed his head in emphasis and sat up 
 stiffly. It is not given to every young man to carry mes 
 sages for a governor. Dignity swelled the chest of him 
 till his damp shirt stretched alarmingly. 
 
 The sheriff and the deputy stared stupidly. 
 
 "You mean the Gov nor was in the stage?" Jake Rule 
 inquired in stricken tones. 
 
 " Shore," yawped the child, wriggling bare toes, " an 
 he was robbed an he wants to see you an Kansas. He s 
 mad, you bet. Y oughta hear him. He s cussin an 
 swearin like all gitout. He s got it in for you an Kan- 
 
Thin Ice 147 
 
 sas. He said you wasn t no good, either o yuh, or yuh d 
 shore wipe these road agents out." 
 
 The last sentence ended in a full-lunged shout, for 
 Rule and his deputy had started on their return trip. 
 And they traveled at speed. Young Galloway looked at 
 the three men and laughed infectiously. 
 
 " That Gov nor man will shore crawl their humps," said 
 he. 
 
 " Slide off, sonny," invited Miss Lorimer. " I have a 
 piece of pie for you." 
 
 11 1 ain t sonny ," denied the boy, tilting a snub nose. 
 " I m Sam Brown Galloway. What what kind o pie 
 is it?" 
 
 " Dried apple. Do you like candy ? " 
 
 Sam Brown Galloway did not hesitate. He was dig 
 nified no longer. He slipped to the ground and spatted 
 into the kitchen. 
 
 Bill Derr slouched forward, his forearms braced across 
 the saddlehorn. There was unholy mirth in his washed- 
 out gray eyes. 
 
 " The Gov nor held up," he chuckled. " That s a real 
 joke." 
 
 " Y bet yuh," said Red. " I heard him make a speech 
 once about how tame the West was gettin . Guess he ll 
 have to make him a new speech now." 
 
 " He ll just about snatch the sheriff baldheaded," con 
 tributed Lorimer. 
 
 " An serve him right," averred Red. " Bill, why don t 
 you get in on this ? " 
 
 Time enough when they ask me. After all, Jake an 
 Kansas oughta be able to curry this hoss." 
 
 " They d oughta," assented Red. " Oh, they d oughta 
 all right, but will they? An another thing: Can they? " 
 
 " If they don t yuh ll have a new sheriff. Do I see a 
 spring over yond er? I do. Hoss, get a-goin . I m 
 thirsty." 
 
148 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " You dropped yore knife, missis." It was the voice 
 of Sam Brown Galloway speaking to Miss Lorimer. 
 
 " It isn t mine, dear. Why, how funny ! It has dad s 
 initials." 
 
 At this Red hastily stuffed both hands into the pockets 
 of his trousers and explored with his fingers. In the bot 
 tom of the right-hand pocket was a hole. A knife, were 
 it so minded, could easily slip through this hole. Red 
 damned the child under his breath. 
 
 " Whatsa matter? " asked Lorimer. " Leg hurt? " 
 
 " Bit my tongue," lied Red, his ears pricked for fur 
 ther revelations. 
 
 These came presently. 
 
 " Here s a dime in the corner," announced the clear 
 young voice. " Did yuh lost a dime, missis? " 
 
 " No, dear, I didn t. Ask my fa Why, it has the 
 same initials the knife has. This is queer." 
 
 " What s this?" asked Lorimer, leaning round the 
 corner of the door jamb. " What did yuh find with my 
 initials on it? " 
 
 Sam Brown Galloway brought him the broken jack- 
 knife and the dime. 
 
 "They yor n, mister?" he asked. 
 
 Lorimer held the two articles in the palm of his hand 
 and fingered them curiously. 
 
 " Now ain t that amazin ," said he. " My initials an 
 everythin ." 
 
 " Lessee." Red peered over his shoulder, making a 
 show of hunting through various pockets. " I lost 
 them," he went on in a tone of great surprise. " I never 
 knowed it till this minute. Got a hole in my pocket." 
 
 He stretched out a hand for the jackknife and the 
 dime. Before he could touch them, the shadow of Bill 
 Derr s horse fell across the bench. 
 
 " Where," asked Bill Derr, " did yuh get John Hud 
 son s knife? " 
 
Thin Ice 149 
 
 Red s hand paused in mid-air. Then he continued the 
 motion and picked up the jackknife and the dime. He 
 did not look at Lorimer, although he knew that Lorimer s 
 black eyes, narrowed to glittering slits, were fixed on his 
 face. He looked down at what he held and turned over 
 the dime so that the two initials were uppermost. 
 
 " Here," said he, holding up his hand toward Derr. 
 " Is the dime Hudson s too ? " 
 
 Bill Derr leaned from the saddle, took the jackknife 
 and the dime and examined them minutely. There was 
 a tight-strained silence for the moment. Red, with every 
 appearance of an ease he did not feel, smoothed down his 
 ruffled hair. Bill Derr handed back the knife and dime. 
 He gave Red an odd look. 
 
 "They re John Hudson s all right," he declared. 
 " I ve seen Hud whittlin with that very knife. He was a 
 great feller to whittle. Always a-doin it when he 
 wasn t doin somethin else. Here s somethin he whit 
 tled." He fished from a vestpocket a beautifully finished 
 little wood-carving of an Indian girl s head and held it up 
 between thumb and forefinger for all to see. " He gim 
 me this once, an I ve always kep it, it s it s so sort 
 o cunnin like. Not that I got any use for Hud now. 
 This here dime with the initials," he went on, dropping 
 the carving back into his pocket, " is a pocket-piece o his. 
 Lucky piece, he called it. I ve been playin cards with 
 him, an , when the luck would go against him, he d cross 
 his fingers an feet, take this dime out an spin her three 
 times. He said it brought him luck. I dunno as it ever 
 did, though." 
 
 " Seems like you knowed him pretty well, Bill." Red 
 returned Derr s odd look with interest. 
 
 "I d oughta. He only lived five mile north o my 
 shack. We was right friendly, the tarrapin, till he sloped 
 with my hoss an some other gent s cattle, so yuh needn t 
 go lookin cross-eyed at me thataway." 
 
150 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Red laughed outright and stuck his tongue in his 
 cheek. 
 
 " Sun was in my eyes," said he. " What I d like to 
 know is where the B L fits in. If his name s John Hud 
 son, why ain t it J H ? " 
 
 " Brand," explained Bill Derr. " B L was his iron. 
 He only owned three hosses an a dog, but he had a brand 
 alia same just like he was somebody." 
 
 Red turned toward Lorimer and smiled. 
 
 " For a minute I guess you thought I was this John 
 Hudson gent, didn t yuh ? " asked Red Kane. 
 
 " Shore not," Lorimer assured him. "I I guess I ll 
 have a smoke." 
 
 He hid his confusion in the business of cigarette mak 
 ing. Red winked at Bill Derr. 
 
 " If I ain t too personal, Red," said the latter, " would 
 you mind tellin me where an when you found them 
 things?" 
 
 " I found " began Red, then stopped abruptly, for 
 it struck him that if he replied truthfully Bill Derr would 
 undoubtedly wish to know why he hadn t reported his 
 find to the proper authorities. 
 
 It was obviously impossible to explain that he had re 
 frained because he had suspected Lorimer. To make a 
 bad business worse, Lorimer was beginning to think in 
 another direction. Red guessed as much by the rigidity 
 of his body and the tapping of his fingers on the edge of 
 the bench. The ice was very brittle. In places it was 
 cracking. 
 
 " G on," urged Derr. 
 
 " No," Red said firmly, bound to reach shore if he 
 could. " Nemmine where I found them things. I know 
 yore li l game, Bill. Yo re on the lookout for the reward. 
 Yeah, well, I m tellin yuh, cowboy, if they s any reward 
 comin , I m gonna glom onto it. Yessir, li l ol me my 
 self. Maybe I ll let Tom in on it. I dunno yet. But 
 
Thin Ice 151 
 
 anyway, it s gonna stay right in the Kane family where 
 it ll do the most good." 
 
 " Hawg," said Derr. " I d be ashamed to be so 
 greedy." 
 
 " Then what you wanna know for? " demanded Red. 
 
 To which question there was no answer. 
 
 When Bill Derr, together with Galloway s child, had 
 ridden away toward Farewell, Lorimer squinted up at the 
 sky and coughed. 
 
 " Funny how them things had my initials on em," he 
 observed. 
 
 " Yeah," drawled Red. " Ain t it? " 
 
 " Yeah, it is. Damn funny. You didn t know they 
 was my initials, did yuh ? " 
 
 " How could I know ? " Red turned the most inno 
 cent eyes in the world on the other man. " You d never 
 told me yore front name. An yore daughter always 
 called yuh Pa. " 
 
 This was skinning the cat both ways with a vengeance, 
 yet truth was unashamed. No lawyer could have con 
 trived it better. 
 
 " Yo re right, I didn t," admitted the nester. " Tom 
 Dowling called me Lorimer, too, I remember." 
 
 " Shore. Lookit, don t you guess if I d knowed yore 
 initials I d a said somethin ? Lordy, man, why wouldn t 
 I say somethin ? Why wouldn t I, huh? Say, what 
 are you drivin at? " 
 
 " And you d better be sure and certain about it before 
 you start drivin , Pa," cut in Dot Lorimer, leaning over 
 the window sill. " You know yourself you jump at con 
 clusions too much." 
 
 " I guess I m a fool," said Lorimer. " I m too hasty, 
 maybe. No hard feelin s? " 
 
 " I dunno of any." Red shook his head. 
 
 " That ll be good. Dot, how bout a couple o them 
 doughnuts just to keep us from fallin in till dinner? " 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 THINNER ICE 
 
 IT was a week later. Mr. Lorimer had taken one of 
 the wagons and gone to Sweetwater Mountain to cut 
 wood. He was getting in the winter s supply. 
 
 Red, now quite recovered he was leaving for Fare 
 well in the morning sat cross-kneed on a sack beside 
 the spring and watched Miss Lorimer darning socks. She 
 was sitting on a chair he had made for her out of a strip 
 of canvas torn from an old wagon cover, and peeled young 
 cottonwood trunks. 
 
 The sun shone in a blue and cloudless sky. But it was 
 not hot. A vagrom breeze was shaking the tops of the 
 cottonwoods, and the leaves were flittering and rustling 
 with pleasant little snaps and crackles. The play of the 
 leaves made a play of lights and shadows on the head 
 and figure of Miss Lorimer. There was one small patch 
 of sun at the corner of her mouth that came and went 
 with the dimple there. Red watched with fascinated 
 eyes. 
 
 " Say," he remarked suddenly, " have you seen any- 
 thin o my green handkerchief? " 
 
 " I saw it," she replied with meaning. 
 
 " Where ? I had it yesterday, but she was gone this 
 mornin . Where d I put it anyway? " 
 
 " You hung it on the back of a chair. I put it away 
 where it would be safe." 
 
 "Safe? Why for safe?" 
 
Thinner Ice 153 
 
 She lifted her dark eyes. There was an amused 
 twinkle in their cool depths. 
 
 " I couldn t stand it any longer," she told him. " I 
 just couldn t. It used to set my teeth on edge to watch 
 you wear that vivid green thing with your gray shirt 
 speckled with those horrible purple horseshoes." 
 
 "Horrible?" His face fell. 
 
 " Horrible. Heavens, Red, don t you know that green 
 and purple swear at each other ? " 
 
 " Swear? " He was still over his head. 
 
 " Clash, then. The two colors don t go together. 
 They re awful, Red. Honestly." 
 
 " Tom did say them an my red head together would 
 be kind o bright," he admitted. " But I thought they 
 was pretty. I liked them purple hoss-shoes, an that 
 green sort o set em off like." 
 
 " You bet it set em off. It s a wonder they didn t 
 explode. Promise me not to wear that green handker 
 chief with that shirt, won t you? " 
 
 " Shore I will. Any thin you say goes. If them col 
 ors don t hitch, they don t thassall. Can I wear the 
 shirt?" 
 
 She smiled adorably. " The shirt ll pass the horse 
 shoes aren t so strikin as they were. They faded in the 
 washin . It made the gray streaky a little, too. I m 
 sorry. I couldn t help it." 
 
 "Thassall right. Don t let that worry yuh. Them 
 hoss-shoes was always too bright, an I like my shirt 
 streaky. You needn t laugh. I do, honest. Lordy, 
 think o you knowin them colors didn t ride together. 
 An me thinkin they was all right alia time. I m igno 
 rant. I know it. I guess now that s one of the reasons 
 you think I don t love yuh cause I bulge right ahead 
 doin what I oughtn t to do. I guess that s one o the 
 reasons shore- nough." 
 
 " Oh " she began hesitatingly. 
 
154 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I can see," he said. " I got eyes. Yo re different. 
 You think different. You talk different. Yo re edu 
 cated. I ve noticed it. I never had much time for 
 schoolin ." 
 
 " That isn t it, at all," she told him. 
 
 " There y are. I d a said ain t , an you know it. 
 I say them things too, an you don t. You can shore 
 make the dictionary sit up an beg, an I never could in a 
 million years. Yessir, Dot, all them things is what counts 
 with a girl like you, an " 
 
 " I did hurt your feelin s," she exclaimed contritely. 
 " I know I did. I didn t mean to. Oh, I m a selfish girl. 
 I I don t mean to be." 
 
 She looked at him with a grieving wistfulness. 
 
 " Never think it," he assured her. " You didn t hurt 
 my feelin s, not a smidgin. You can t help bein educated 
 an different. But I love you, an I m gonna show yuh 
 none o them things count for such a much. What does 
 it matter if I wear a red an yaller shirt with a pair o 
 pink pants an say * not no an them is forty to the 
 minute? What does the like o that matter if I love yuh 
 so hard I wanna cut the throat of anybody who looks at 
 yuh ? What does it now ? " 
 
 "It does matter a little. If you really loved me, 
 you d want to do what I I liked." 
 
 " But I do. Lordy, I Yuh mean to say yuh want 
 me to talk grammar an not wear shirts o funny colors, 
 an " 
 
 "If you loved me, you d want to." 
 
 "If? They ain t no if s. Never an if. Nawsir. 
 Here s where I start in goin easy on the rainbow, but 
 I dunno how I m gonna teach old words new tricks with 
 out yo re round to show me. But you ll be round alia 
 time one o these fine spring mornin s, so don t let that 
 worry yuh. Honest, I ll swing an rattle with that dic 
 tionary four hours a day if you say so. I ll do any thin 
 
Thinner Ice 155 
 
 bar nothin to make yuh happy. I ll show you. You 
 watch my smoke." 
 
 He nodded a confident head and grinned. 
 
 " Sometimes I think perhaps you do love me," she said, 
 giving him a troubled look. 
 
 " Yo re gonna think so alia time. An , when you do, 
 I m gonna kiss you so hard you won t be able to breathe 
 for a week." 
 
 "Why don t you do it now?" Her black eyes held 
 his gray ones steadily. 
 
 " You ain t ready yet. If you was, you wouldn t ask 
 me no questions." 
 
 " You must have had lots of experience," she said, a 
 trifle disconcerted. 
 
 " Not me. What li l I know I got by hearsay an main- 
 string. An I know better n to kiss you now. I d spoil 
 everythin if I did. Yuh needn t look disappointed. 
 Cause y aint disappointed. Not a bit. Can t fool this 
 orphan child by gogglin at me under yore eyewinkers 
 either, you sassy rascal." 
 
 He bobbed his head at her and patted Juba on his 
 knees. 
 
 " Tell yuh somethin else," he said jerkily, for his hands 
 were thumping furiously, " yo re gonna kiss me first." 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " You, Dot Lorimer, are. I done said it." 
 
 " You say quite a lot, young man. I don t know when 
 I ve heard any one talk so much." 
 
 " Clack, clack, goes the ol millwheel, huh? Don t 
 yuh care. Better times comin . I m goin home to-mor 
 row. Then you ll be sorry for treatin me so cruel. Yep, 
 you ll shore miss this cowboy. Don t cry too hard." 
 
 " I ll try not to," she said with a mock sniff, and she 
 bit off a thread with a snap of white teeth. 
 
 She held up a mended sock by the toe, shook out the 
 egg-shaped darning-gourd from the heel and laid the sock 
 
156 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 across her knee. She did not immediately take up an 
 other but sat with head bent and smoothed and smoothed 
 with deliberate fingers the one on her knee. 
 
 Suddenly she raised her head and met Red s eyes.. She 
 loked at him gravely. 
 
 " Red," said she they had been Dot and Red to each 
 other for a week "where did you really find that 
 broken jackknife and the dime? " 
 
 He did not attempt to evade her questioning as he had 
 that of Bill Derr. 
 
 " In Farewell," he told her. 
 
 " Whereabouts in Farewell? " 
 
 " Between the express office an the company s corral." 
 
 " After the robbery or before ? " 
 
 " After." 
 
 " What did you think when you found it? " 
 
 " Why uh I dunno." He was faltering in his 
 stride. 
 
 " It would be natural for you not to think, wouldn t it ? 
 Oh, yes, very natural. You know perfectly well you won 
 dered what my father s first initial was. Now be honest. 
 Didn t you? Look at me. There s nothin of interest 
 for you on the ground, and you ve seen your feet a million 
 times. Look me in the eye. Didn t you? " 
 
 " Maybe I did." He looked her in the eye as ordered, 
 but it was hard work. 
 
 " Did you know his name was Benjamin? " 
 
 " Not then." 
 
 " But you found it out later? " 
 
 " Yeah." 
 
 " Then you did suspect my father. I know you must 
 have, or you d have mentioned havin found a knife with 
 his initials. You needn t shake your head. There was 
 a shred or two of suspicion in your mind. There must 
 have been. Otherwise you wouldn t be human. Oh, I 
 knew. Why do you suppose I cut in when Dad was 
 
Thinner Ice 157 
 
 askin you if you knew his name was Benjamin, if I 
 didn t know? My Lord, you d have given the whole 
 show away and gotten yourself shot good and plenty if 
 I d let you go on talkin . You re not a good liar, Red. 
 You re only fair, and that s almost as bad as tellin the 
 truth. Sooner or later the only fair liar is caught just 
 as I caught you. Don t look so crestfallen, boy. You 
 can t fool a woman with lies ever. Remember Eve 
 ate of the apple before Adam did, and women have been 
 that much ahead of men ever since. I would " 
 
 Abruptly she stopped speaking and looked over the top 
 of Red s hat with slightly narrowed eyes. Red turned a 
 quick head. A man was rounding the corner of the cor 
 ral. He was coming in their direction. The man was 
 Kansas Casey. He advanced with a smile and took off 
 his hat to the girl. 
 
 Red did not smile in return. He replied with a grave 
 " Hello, Kansas ", to the other s greeting and watched 
 him alertly. Red could not have named the exact cause 
 certainly Casey s manner was markedly friendly 
 yet Red was oppressed with a vague unease, an unease 
 that grew stronger with every breath he drew. 
 
 Why had Kansas not let his presence be known before 
 he slid round the corner of the corral? What was his 
 purpose in coming to the ranch-house by stealth? Why 
 all this furtive f oxiness ? Why ? 
 
 " Whyfor this Injun business? " inquired Red, cutting 
 straight to the heart of the matter. 
 
 " Injun business ? " Kansas cocked a quizzical eye 
 brow at Red. 
 
 " Shore, Injun business. This driftin in so soft an 
 quiet we didn t hear nothin till yuh stuck yore head round 
 the corner of the corral. Had yuh been waitin at that 
 corner long? " This last at a venture, and it seemed to 
 strike the black, for the eyelids of Kansas Casey twitched 
 the least bit. 
 
158 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " What makes yuh think I was waitin at that corner 
 long or a-tall? " he asked. 
 
 " I was just a-wonderin , thassall," drawled Red. " 7 
 wonder a lot now an then." 
 
 ;< Yeah." Thus Kansas, with a rising inflection. 
 
 His smile became quizzical, and he looked at Red as 
 one looks at a small child. The tolerance in his expres 
 sion was as obvious as it was maddening. He held out 
 his hand. 
 
 " S pose you gimme that knife, Red," he suggested, 
 " an the dime too, while yo re at it." 
 
 The deputy s choice of words was unfortunate. Red, 
 already peevish, took instant umbrage. 
 
 " An s pose I don t do nothin like that? " Red s drawl 
 became more pronounced. 
 
 " Then I ll have to take em away from yuh." 
 
 The deputy s smile had not vanished. It had grown 
 fixed as set concrete, and his eyes were sharply deter 
 mined. 
 
 Red gave a short hard laugh. 
 
 " You ll take em away from me?" said he. "You ll 
 take em away from me? What makes you think you 
 will?" 
 
 " Don t be a fool, Red," urged Kansas. " That knife 
 an dime are evidence. I m try in to do this peaceable, 
 but I want them two things an I m gonna have em." 
 
 Red hesitated. He knew Kansas was in the right, but 
 Kansas had sneaked up on him, Kansas had rubbed him 
 the wrong way. He felt that Kansas was making him 
 cut a poor figure before his lady. This was vanity. Out 
 of the corner of his eye he stole a quick glance at Miss 
 Lorimer. She was motionless, and she was watching 
 Kansas like a cat. Red thought her face had gone a 
 trifle pale. But he could not be sure, she was so brown. 
 
 Red grinned suddenly at Kansas and stuck jaunty 
 thumbs in the armholes of his vest. 
 
Thinner Ice 159 
 
 " Do yuh want them things now," he asked, " or will 
 yuh wait till yuh get em? " 
 
 " Stop playin the fool, Red," admonished Kansas. 
 " This is serious. You don t seem to realize none how 
 serious it is. Shucks, Red, I ain t lookin for trouble, 
 can t yuh see that? If it was anybody else but you, I 
 wouldn t waste my time talkin . I d " 
 
 "What would yuh do?" interrupted Red. "I hope 
 yuh wouldn t do nothin rash. Yuh wouldn t hurt me, 
 would yuh? I might get offended if yuh did." 
 
 " Red, you idjit, look yonder," snapped Casey, with a 
 jerk of his thumb toward the ranch-house. 
 
 Red looked where he was bidden. On the bench beside 
 the kitchen door sat a lengthy citizen of Farewell, one 
 Shorty Rumbold. Shorty s rifle lay across his knees. 
 The barrel was pointing in the general direction of Red 
 Kane and Miss Lorimer. 
 
 Red s gaze returned to Kansas Casey. 
 
 " Y oughta know better n to use Shorty for that," said 
 he. Yuh know what a poor shot he is. He might hit 
 the lady instead o me." 
 
 "He might," put in Kansas softly, "but I won t. 
 S pose now you keep them thumbs hooked right where 
 they are. I hate to do this, Red, but yo re so mulish I 
 gotta." 
 
 Red stared unmoved into the muzzle of Casey s six- 
 shooter. 
 
 " I d like to " he began. 
 
 " He ain t here, Kansas ! " called a voice from a win 
 dow of the ranch-house. " Where s he at? " pursued the 
 voice. " Yore dad where is he, miss ? " 
 
 "So that s it, is it?" said Red, glaring at Kansas. 
 "The sheriff s gettin active, huh? The old coot! 
 Mighty smart, yuh think y are, don t yuh, a-holdin us 
 here with yore chatter while the sheriff an the rest of 
 em sifts in an searches the house, huh? Mighty smart. 
 
160 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Who s the stranger ? Two strangers three ! What are 
 they hornin in for ? " 
 
 Three strangers had followed the sheriff out of the 
 kitchen. For, hearing no reply to his shouted question, 
 the sheriff was coming to close quarters. Red, taking 
 care to keep his thumbs hooked, slowly rose to his feet. 
 
 Miss Lorimer did not rise. Deliberately she dropped 
 the sock she had been smoothing into the basket on the 
 ground beside her chair, crossed one unconcerned knee 
 over the other and stifled a yawn with her pretty hand. 
 The yawn brought to a graceful conclusion, she tucked 
 in a loose tendril of hair behind an ear and clasped her 
 hands, right thumb over left, in her lap. 
 
 The sheriff, standing in front of the girl, took off his 
 hat to her and achieved a jerky bow. Then he pulled on 
 the hat and coughed. He felt that his task would not 
 be easy. The girl looked too competent by half. 
 "Where s yore pa, miss?" he asked. 
 
 The lady looked up at him sweetly. She smiled charm 
 ingly and began to twiddle her thumbs. 
 
 " Isn t he in the house ? " was her Yankee answer. 
 
 " No, he ain t." 
 
 " Then he must be out." She stopped revolving her 
 thumbs, lifted one hand and inspected a slim forefinger. 
 " I do believe I broke my nail after all," she observed, 
 quite as if the sheriff and his men were in the next county. 
 
 " Nemmine yore nail," Jake Rule said acidly. " I 
 wanna know where yore pa is." 
 
 The dark head lifted. She surveyed the sheriff coolly, 
 critically, and a little weariedly. 
 
 " You d like to know where my father is ? " she 
 drawled. 
 
 " I said so." There was a note of irritation in the 
 sheriff s tone. 
 
 " I heard you say so," she admitted. " You shouted 
 it from the window, didn t you ? " 
 
Thinner Ice 161 
 
 The sheriff swallowed hard. Shorty Rumbold smoth 
 ered a smile with difficulty. 
 
 " Nice weather we re havin ," remarked Red Kane, 
 whom the girl s sheriff-baiting was restoring to good 
 humor. " But maybe it ll rain. What do you think, 
 Kansas?" 
 
 His appeal to the deputy was accompanied by a por 
 tentous wink. 
 
 " Why not introduce yore friends ? " continued Red 
 Kane. " I think one of em s a sheriff or somethin . 
 They s the edge o what looks like a star stickin out 
 under his vest. Why don t he wear it outside on his vest 
 so s folks can tell he s sheriff? Y ain t ashamed o bein 
 a sheriff, are yuh, mister ? " 
 
 At the direct question the man addressed frowned upon 
 the jester. He was a consequential-looking person with 
 a self-satisfied mouth and little piggy eyes. There was 
 a fleshiness about his middle that agreed ill with his 
 sheriff s star. 
 
 " I wear my star where I please," he said, in a high, 
 thin voice. " I dunno as it s none o yore business, is it? " 
 
 " I dunno as tis," replied Red, in a mocking falsetto. 
 " I dunno as tis. But then I don t always mind my own 
 business. Sometimes I ll help out other folks with theirs. 
 I ain t proud thataway. Nobody can say I m proud. 
 Why, feller, I d even help you out if I thought yuh needed 
 it." 
 
 The reedy-voiced sheriff glowered at Red Kane. 
 
 " Huh," he grunted. " Huh." 
 
 The other two strangers paid no attention to Red. 
 They kept their eyes, sharp eyes, too, fixed on Miss Lor- 
 imer. One of these men had a brown and jutting beard 
 and a pony-built body. The other man was clean-shaven, 
 with lots of teeth and a curiously twisted nose. 
 
 Sheriff Rule shifted his feet impatiently. He wanted 
 to be getting on. Time pressed, and all that sort of thing. 
 
1 62 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 And here he was being held up, both in a business way 
 and to ridicule, by a contumacious girl. 
 
 " You ll save trouble by tellin where yore pa is," he 
 told her. 
 
 "Trouble?" she repeated. "What kind of trouble? 
 And for whom ? You ? Or my father ? Or myself ? " 
 
 " All round, ma am." 
 
 " Oh, all round. That s interestin . That s very inter- 
 estin . Oh, yes, indeed. But I don t know that I care to 
 save trouble. Why should I ? " 
 
 Again the pretty hand concealed a yawn. 
 
 The sheriff drew a long breath. The hair at the back 
 of his neck began to bristle. He took a step forward 
 and pointed a lean finger at the girl. 
 
 " Don t, Red ! " cautioned Kansas, for the other had 
 unhooked a thumb. 
 
 The thumb crept back into position with reluctance. 
 
 " I m sure the occasion does not call for violence," 
 observed Miss Lorimer, with a sidelong glance at Red. 
 "If the sheriff only realized how silly he looks wavin 
 his finger at me, why " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence but shrugged her shoul 
 ders and twinkled her black eyes at the sheriff. He 
 stepped back, looking foolish, and slapped his hands hard 
 down on his hip bones. 
 
 " Look here, miss, I wanna know where yore dad is. 
 Now you tell me, like a good girl." He licked his wheed 
 ling tongue across his lips and nodded his head to encour 
 age her. . 
 
 " Like a good girl. You talk as if I were three years 
 old and played with tin dishes. You make me tired. 
 I ll tell you what you d better do, Mister Sheriff. You d 
 better hoist yourself into the saddle and travel straight 
 back to Nottingham. Because I ll never tell you where 
 Robin Hood is, not if you stay here till Doomsday. So 
 now you know." 
 
Thinner Ice 163 
 
 " Robin Hood, " repeated the sheriff, his mentality 
 having shed the allusion as a duck sheds water. " I don t 
 know nothin about Robin Hood. I never said nothin 
 about him, did I? I wanna know where yore dad is, 
 that s all. An I m gonna know." 
 
 " You won t have no better luck than the Sheriff of 
 Nottingham," he was assured by the frankly delighted 
 Red Kane. 
 
 " Lemme try my hand," said the stranger sheriff, sid 
 ling past Jake Rule. " I ll show yuh how to manage this 
 fool girl." 
 
 It was unlucky for the stranger that his sidling brought 
 him within fair arm-sweep of Red Kane. For the sen 
 tence had barely reached its period when Red, risking a 
 shot from Kansas, added his punctuation mark. 
 
 " I ll teach yuh ! " Red grated between clenched teeth, 
 as his hard knuckles flattened the man s nose. " I ll teach 
 yuh how to talk!" 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 AN ACCIDENT? 
 
 THE man went down beneath Red s attack with a grunt 
 and a " Whuff! " For Red, while the other was falling, 
 drove his fist into the unguarded stomach. Once the 
 man was flat Red knelt upon the squirming body and 
 whaled away two-handed. 
 
 They pried Red off at last, of course. But not before 
 he had appreciably altered the contours of the stranger s 
 face. Nor must it be supposed that Red was idle while 
 they wrenched him away from his prey. He continued 
 to work fists and feet with whole-hearted enthusiasm to 
 the end that by the time he lay prostrate and helpless 
 beneath the combined weight of Rule, Kansas and Shorty, 
 every single gentleman present was aware that he had 
 been in a fight. 
 
 Especially did the stranger friends of the stranger 
 sheriff realize this. The one with the twisted nose sat 
 on the ground and nursed a kneecap that had stopped 
 Red s heel. The other was experimenting with a loos 
 ened tooth and wondering how soon his left eye would 
 completely close. 
 
 "Uncle!" wheezed Red. " Get offa me, will yuh? 
 I ain t no bench ! Get off ! I said Uncle ! How many 
 times yuh want me to say it? " 
 
 " Lookit here, Red," Jake Rule said earnestly, " I don t 
 want no more trouble with you, y understand. You gim 
 me yore word not to start no more fusses, an I ll let you 
 up. If yuh don t, I ll tie you up." 
 
An Accident ? 165 
 
 " I ll be good just so long as Snicklefritz there or 
 anybody else o you chunkers is careful o their language 
 or don t try to ride me. I won t be good a second longer, 
 an you can gamble on that." 
 
 " I ll answer for them other fellers," said the sheriff. 
 " They won t horn in again." 
 
 " Then I won t. Lemme get up, will yuh ? How do 
 yuh guess I m gonna breathe with yore knee in my stum- 
 mick? You d oughta dull up that knee, Sheriff. She s 
 too sharp. Kansas, if yo re aimin to take out a claim 
 on that leg o mine, would yuh mind movin higher up? 
 My foot s asleep." 
 
 " Better gimme that knife an the dime before yuh get 
 up, Red," advised the sheriff. " Kansas, did you get his 
 gun?" 
 
 " I m gettin it now," replied the deputy. " I m takin 
 his derringer too." 
 
 " Hey, leave my guns be ! " bawled Red. " I ain t 
 gonna do nothin with them guns, but I like the feel of 
 em on me. Leave em alone, Kansas." 
 
 " Kansas will take good care o yore guns," soothed 
 the sheriff. " An you ll get em back before we leave. 
 But just now, Red,, you ain t no man to trust with fire 
 arms. Not by a jugful, you ain t. Yuh needn t try to 
 bite me neither. Yore teeth can t reach. About that 
 knife an the dime, Red hand em over." 
 
 " Shore I will if yuh feel that way about it. That is, 
 if I can pick em out o myself, I will. Them things are 
 in a front pocket, an the longer you sit on me the harder 
 they take root. Nemmine fishin in my pockets, Sheriff, 
 if it s alia same to you. I ll get em for yuh myself." 
 
 They let him up at that, and he handed the broken 
 jackknife and the dime to Sheriff Rule. 
 
 " I s pose Bill Derr told yuh I had em, huh ? " hazarded 
 Red, not pleased that his friend should have betrayed him. 
 
 " He didn t say nothin about em," said the sheriff. 
 
1 66 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I wanted to ask him, too, after I heard Galloway s kid 
 gassin about it, but Bill had went south again. Gallo 
 way s kid said yuh wouldn t say where you found em. 
 Where did yuh find em, anyway ? " 
 
 " Galloway s kid is still right," maintained Red, who, 
 finding that he had misjudged Bill Derr, was naturally 
 more ruffled in spirit than ever. 
 
 " Are you tryin to run against the law? " demanded 
 the sheriff. 
 
 "Who? Me? Me run against the law? Yo re 
 talkin foolish. Listen, Jake. Listen hard. I " 
 
 " Better tell him," interrupted the low voice of Miss 
 Lorimer. c There s no sense in being stubborn, Red. 
 You won t gain a thing, not a thing." 
 
 " All right," Red said shortly, and told the sheriff what 
 he wished to know. 
 
 "Between the corral an the office, huh?" said the 
 sheriff. " That ll be good, that will. Kansas, I wish 
 you d lemme see that piece o knife-blade yuh got from 
 Buck Saylor." 
 
 The sheriff took the piece of steel from his deputy, 
 opened the jackknife and placed the broken parts end to 
 end. Red crowded in closer. 
 
 " They don t fit," the sheriff said disgustedly. 
 
 But Red knew that when he made the same experiment 
 in the Farewell express office, they fitted perfectly. 
 
 " That busted-off piece belonged to a bigger knife," 
 averred Red, willing to go that far but no further. 
 
 " Shore," asserted the sheriff. " The busted-off piece 
 is a eighth inch wider an a mite thicker. An I was 
 lookin for a good healthy clue out o this ! Well, maybe 
 somethin else ll turn up. Kansas, take care o these 
 here, will yuh? Better wrap em up in somethin . I 
 don t wanna run no risk o losin em, an that dime could 
 be special easy lost." 
 
 Jake Rule looked over his shoulder at the three stran- 
 
An Accident? 167 
 
 gers. So, with a start, did Red. He had forgotten them 
 for the moment. Which was unwise. 
 
 The pig-eyed sheriff, who had, regained his wind, had 
 foregathered with his two comrades at one side. They 
 stood, a grumpy trio, and muttered among themselves. 
 Miss Lorimer was unconcernedly darning a sock. 
 
 Sheriff Rule went close to her. 
 
 " Miss," said he, " I don t wanna have to ask you again 
 where yore pa is." 
 
 " Very well, don t," was the tranquil reply. " You 
 won t make me mad." 
 
 What was there to be done with such a girl? The 
 sheriff didn t know. He tilted his hat and scratched a 
 perplexed head. 
 
 Miss Lorimer laughed and gathered up her socks and 
 darning-basket. She rose to her feet and walked toward 
 the house. 
 
 " While you re wonderin what to do next," she said to 
 the accompaniment of a demure glance at Jake Rule, 
 " suppose you come in the house and have some coffee and 
 doughnuts." 
 
 " Doughnuts ! " repeated the sheriff, his mouth water 
 ing. He had not tasted a doughnut in years. Mrs. Rule 
 was not an all-round cook. " Doughnuts! " he repeated 
 a second time. " That s shore clever of yuh. They ll go 
 good while while we re waitin . Say, Red, nemmine 
 edgin over toward the corral. You ain t goin ridin 
 now. Yo re gonna eat with us." 
 
 " I only wanted to look at my hoss," said Red, return 
 ing slowly. 
 
 " Yeah, I know. But yore hoss is all right. You 
 c mon in with us." 
 
 So saying, the sheriff hooked his arm through Red s 
 and bore him within. Once indoors Red continued to 
 augment the gayety of nations. 
 
 When the stranger sheriff pulled out a chair and sat 
 
1 68 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 down at the table, Red immediately kicked back his own 
 chair and stood up. Miss Lorimer was not in the kitchen. 
 She and Kansas had gone out to fill the coffeepot and fetch 
 firewood. Red would have convoyed the lady, but the 
 sheriff had demurred. He was taking no chances with 
 either of them. 
 
 " I m kind o particular what I eat with," Red said 
 nastily. " An I m free to admit that I think this thing s 
 two friends are skunks too." 
 
 " By ! " exclaimed the first person referred to. 
 
 " I ain t gonna stand this no longer." 
 
 Red leaned across the table and stuck his face within a 
 foot of the other s swollen countenance. 
 
 " What are yuh gonna do about it ? " he demanded. 
 " I ain t got no gun, or I d shore admire to talk to you 
 proper. But, if you ll come outside again, I ll do the best 
 I can with my hands an feet. I ll take yuh two at a time 
 if one o yore friends wants to chip in. No, I ll do bet- 
 ter n that! I ll take the three o yuh. There y are. 
 They s a proposition for a reasonable man. Leave yore 
 artillery in here, an the four of us can hop out an settle 
 our li l argument in less n no time. Whatsa matter? 
 Whadda yuh want me to do? Tie one o my hands be 
 hind my back or somethin ? " 
 
 The man with the jutting beard stood up and unbuckled 
 his belt. 
 
 " I ll go yuh," he told Red. " I ll tramp on yore guts 
 with both feet, that s what I ll do." 
 
 " Naw, yuh won t ! " cried Jake Rule, springing to his 
 feet and pounding the table with his fist. " They won t 
 be no more fightin round here for a while. Sheriff, you 
 sit down. Red, you too." 
 
 " I notice," remarked Red, dragging his chair to the 
 wall before sitting down, " I notice that stranger sheriff 
 man didn t even start to get up till after you said they d 
 be no more fightin , Jake. Is he a friend o yores ? " 
 
An Accident? 169 
 
 " Shut up, Red, will yuh ? This ain t no time for 
 jokin ." 
 
 " I ain t jokin ," denied Red. " I m serious as lead in 
 yore innards. I don t wonder yo re ashamed to call him 
 yore friend. I would be, too. Do I have to stay in here, 
 Sheriff, an breathe the same air him an his two friends 
 are makin free with ? As I done told yuh, Jake, I m kind 
 o particular, an I won t never be contented in the same 
 room with them three tinhorns. I wish you d lemme 
 have my gun for a couple o minutes. I d show yuh 
 somethin ." 
 
 " Let him have his gun, Sheriff," urged the man with 
 the jutting beard. " I m kind o curious about this jig 
 ger. He may be a ace like he says, an then again he may 
 be a two-spot. I d like to find out." 
 
 " Yo re brayin thataway cause yuh know he won t 
 gimme my gun ! " cried Red in a rage. " Jake," he con 
 tinued, beseechingly, " I ll give you one hundred dollars 
 for my gun." 
 
 " You can t have yore gun till I get good an ready to 
 give it to yuh," returned the sheriff. " I told yuh so once, 
 an that s enough." 
 
 The stranger sheriff flung a meaningful glance at his 
 two friends. The one with the twisted nose promptly 
 sat back in his chair, stretched his legs out in front of 
 him and, his eyes on the ceiling, began to whistle. The 
 man with the jutting beard resumed his seat, took out a 
 penknife and began to trim his finger nails. 
 
 The stranger sheriff slumped sidewise in his chair, 
 put up a right hand and slowly scratched his Adam s 
 apple. Jake Rule turned to look out of the window. At 
 which psychological moment the right hand of the 
 stranger sheriff flipped under his vest. It flipped out 
 again as speedily. There was a flash and a roar and a 
 bluster of smoke and a .45 bullet splintered a round in the 
 back of Red s chair. Red was not in the chair at the time. 
 
170 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 He had hurled his body to the floor at the first jerk of 
 the other man s hand. 
 
 Jake Rule whirled round to find Red Kane sitting on 
 the floor and the stranger sheriff wearing a most bewil 
 dered expression and looking at a six-shooter that lay on 
 the table in front of him. 
 
 "If that ain t the most careless thing I ever done," he 
 said penitently. " Here I go to take the gun out o my 
 shoulder holster an my hand slips an the gun goes off 
 an damn near shoots the gent sittin on the floor. Mister 
 Man, I m shore sorry. I wouldn t a had no accident 
 happen to you for anythin ." 
 
 " No," Red remarked with deep feeling, " I guess you 
 wouldn t. I guess you wouldn t. I s pose now 
 I was lucky to fall out o my chair." 
 
 " Shore you was," said the other, returning the six- 
 shooter to the holster under his armpit. " I dunno when 
 you was ever so lucky." 
 
 " See what yore takin away my gun almost does, 
 Jake! " Red complained bitterly. " If you won t gimme 
 my gun back so s I can take care o myself, then you keep 
 yore eyes skinned on these sharps. I don t aim to be 
 wiped out." 
 
 " It was a accident, Red," said the sheriff, determined 
 to put a good face on the matter. 
 
 " Oh, shore. Jake, yo re a damfool, none dammer ! 
 Stranger, why for did yuh pull that gun anyway? " 
 
 " I wanted to see if she was loaded," was the brazen 
 reply. 
 
 Yuh found out, didn t yuh ? Now you listen, Sheriff 
 No-Name. When you n me meet again you come a- 
 shootin , cause I ll be doin the same." 
 
 " I ll try to remember," said the other gravely. 
 
 Jake Rule scratched his chin and looked doubtfully at 
 the three strangers. 
 
 " Shorty," said he, " did you see this accident? " 
 
An Accident? 171 
 
 " No, Sheriff, I didn t. I was a-lookin out the door. 
 I heard the shot, though, an I seen the smoke." 
 
 " Oh, yuh did," put in Red with sarcastic scorn. " Are 
 you shore ? " 
 
 " Well " began Shorty, who was not accustomed to 
 thinking quickly. 
 
 " It was a accident, Sheriff," the man with the jutting 
 beard asserted smoothly. " I saw the whole thing." 
 
 " Shore," supplemented Twisty Nose. " I was lookin 
 right at the sheriff. Accident! I should say so! This 
 here red-headed gent is shore a-boardin the wrong hoss 
 when he says different." 
 
 " Meanin I m a liar, huh?" rapped out Red, the al 
 lusion to his hair adding fresh fuel to the blaze of his 
 wrath. " Aw right, what I told yore sheriff friend goes 
 for you too." 
 
 " Why leave me out ? " asked Jutting Beard. 
 
 " We aim to please, feller. Yo re welcome to help yore 
 two friends all you like. Come a-runnin , the lot o yuh. 
 You " 
 
 " What s the matter ? Who s shot ? Who " Miss 
 Lorimer, followed by Kansas Casey, darted into the 
 kitchen and stood panting, her black eyes fixed anxiously 
 on Red Kane. 
 
 " It s all right," replied Red easily. " Gent got a li l 
 careless, thassall. Nobody hurt." 
 
 "Oh," murmured Miss Lorimer. "Oh I see. Mr. 
 Casey, I left the coffeepot at the spring. Will you get it? 
 I think I m needed right here in this kitchen." 
 
CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 " WHY don t you come sit at the table with the others, 
 Red?" asked Miss Lorimer, looking up from filling the 
 cup of Sheriff Rule. 
 
 " I don t eat with no polecats," was the reply. 
 " Meanin no offense to Jake, Kansas or Shorty." 
 
 " Lord," said Miss Lorimer with a slight laugh, " if 
 I can serve these three individuals and I know a lot 
 about them, too you shouldn t object to eatin with 
 them." 
 
 " You know em ! " Red looked his astonishment. 
 
 " I know em from way back, and they know me. YOU 
 can t tell me anythin about this bunch. Compared with 
 them, Ananias told the truth and Judas was the soul of 
 honor. They re so crooked they make a corkscrew look 
 like the shortest distance between two points. Let me 
 tell you about them." 
 
 " Ma am," broke in Jake Rule, " it ain t necessary. I 
 know this gentleman is Mister Tom Lumley, the Sheriff 
 of Rock County, Colorado, an these other gents are Mis 
 ter Rouse an Mister Bruff, his two deputies. What 
 more " 
 
 " There s a lot more," interrupted the lady. " You ve 
 no idea how much, really. Oh, it s no bother, Sheriff. I 
 don t mind tellin you. In fact, I d rather enjoy it. 
 What s the matter, Mr. Lumley? Isn t that chair com 
 fortable? You re not goin outside, are you, Billy Bruff? 
 
"Ridin Em" 173 
 
 You re gettin shy all of a sudden, aren t you? Surely 
 you can t be afraid of what a girl says, Dune Rouse. I 
 know you never seemed to mind when Sniff O Neill s 
 wife used to come to your saloon and beg you not to let 
 Sniff gamble in your place. And you used to get Sniff 
 drunk so he would. Sniff s baby died at Christmas and 
 Sniff s little girl went out when spring came. It must 
 have been a hard winter in the O Neill family. I often 
 wonder if Sniff s wife cursed you before she died." 
 
 The man with the twisted nose scraped the floor with 
 an uneasy heel and violently stirred his coffee. He licked 
 his lips and took a long and noisy drink. He set down 
 the cup, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, looked 
 everywhere save in Miss Lorimer s direction and began 
 to build himself a cigarette. 
 
 Miss Lorimer kept her eyes upon him. She leaned 
 against the back of a chair and nodded her head with 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " They say a dyin person s curse always comes true," 
 she went on. " Is that why your hand s tremblin , 
 Dune?" 
 
 " Ain t tremblin ! " snapped the twisty-nose man. 
 "What I care for you?" 
 
 " You don t have to burn your nose in order to show 
 your indifference," she told him, for Dune, in his confu 
 sion, had held the match where he shouldn t. " You 
 killed Sniff, didn t you? Self-defense was the excuse 
 you gave. Nobody saw the killin except Tom Lumley. 
 Self-defense! And Sniff shot plumb through the back 
 with a shotgun ! When your time comes, Dune, the devil 
 will certainly talk to you. Poor Sniff! I never could 
 understand why you shot him. He was so sort of harm 
 less and helpless I always felt sorry for him. You swore 
 he hit you, though or was it a kick? Oh, the nassy 
 bad canary bird snapped at Dune, so it did, and Dune had 
 to kill it, didn t he?" 
 
174 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Twisty Nose glowered at Miss Lorimer and muttered 
 under his breath. 
 
 " Say it out loud," smiled Miss Lorimer. " I d enjoy 
 hearin what you really think of me." 
 
 Warm-tempered Red crouched and gathered himself. 
 Another fight was imminent. But Twisty Nose choked 
 down the words he burningly desired to utter. His eyes 
 glowed with sullen fire. 
 
 " Ma am," said badgered Sheriff Rule, " I d take it as 
 a favor if you wouldn t talk no more." 
 
 " You d take it as a favor, would you ? You d take it 
 as a favor. I don t know that I owe you any favors. 
 Whose house is this, anyway? Did I ask you here? I 
 guess I can talk if I want to. I don t see anybody around 
 here that s able to stop me." 
 
 " No, ma am, no. Only I You shut up now, 
 ma am, please." 
 
 " Why don t you gag me then, if you don t want to 
 listen ? Because I ve got more to say quite a lot more. 
 I haven t mentioned the other two rascals yet. Of course, 
 I know they ought to be in jail, but you don t, I imagine." 
 
 " Yo re a fine one to talk about jails," slipped in Sher 
 iff Lumley. " You wait till we get our paws on yore pa. 
 You won t talk so fast about jails. An besides you 
 can t prove nothin against me, an you know it. I ve 
 been elected three terms, an I guess now that shows what 
 kind o standin I got." 
 
 " It shows you bought every election," flashed the girl. 
 " You an your gang of thieves have run Rock County for 
 years. Who was it stole the Gov ment beef contracts 
 away from the Rafter O? Who was it switched five 
 thousand sacks of flour on the Round Mountain Indians 
 and gave em middlin s? And sour middlin s at that. 
 Who " 
 
 " I never ! " interrupted Lumley shrilly. " I didn t " 
 
 " Who said you did ? " queried Miss Lorimer. 
 
"Ridin Em" 175 
 
 Lumley subsided. Red Kane laughed. 
 
 "Lord, Tom Lumley," swept on Miss Lorimer. "I 
 thought you had more sense than to be caught by a trick 
 like that. And you call yourself a sheriff! I suppose 
 you ll admit now you used to bootleg the Round Mountain 
 Reservation, you and the agent, and run brace games be 
 sides for the Indians. Not content with stealin their 
 grub, you d rustle their money. That s playin both ends 
 against the middle, I guess. 
 
 " I always believed you had a hand in killin Sniff 
 O Neill, too. Dune Rouse wouldn t have done it if you 
 hadn t put him up to it. You held the mortgage on 
 Sniff s little bunch of cattle, didn t you? And Sniff s 
 wife said Sniff left home with the money to pay off the 
 mortgage, and not two hours later he was found dead in 
 your office ? The money ? What money ? Mister Sher 
 iff Lumley rolls his eyes and swears he knows nothing of 
 any money. He had seen no money. Certainly not. 
 The mortgage? We-ell, of course, it s too bad, tough on 
 Mrs. O Neill, but business is business, and Mister Sheriff 
 Lumley took the cows. It was two days later that Mrs. 
 O Neill cut her throat in front of your house. When 
 they picked her up, one of her hands was resting on your 
 doorsill and that flat stone you used for a doorstep was 
 dyed red. 
 
 " You took the flat stone away after that, didn t you? 
 The red wouldn t wash out, would it? Yes, Tommy, I 
 expect she cursed you all right. That s why she com 
 mitted suicide on your doorstep. And I don t believe 
 you ll get rid of the curse as easily as you got rid of the 
 flat stone, either. Do you ever have nightmare, Tom?" 
 
 Sheriff Lumley s Adam s apple worked up and down a 
 time or two. Then he laughed harshly, raggedly. 
 
 " Try again, Tom," urged Miss Lorimer. " That 
 laugh had a crack in it." 
 
 " You can t scare me," he told her. 
 
176 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I wasn t tryin to," said she. " Look at Dune." 
 
 The entire roomful looked at Dune. That twisty- 
 nosed person was noticeably pale about the lips. His 
 eyes were glassily bright. He was constructing a cigarette 
 and making heavy weather of it. Tobacco and torn 
 papers littered the table in front of him. Even as the 
 man felt the many pairs of eyes fasten upon him, his 
 shaking fingers split in two the cigarette they held. 
 Miss Lorimer laughed. There was no crack in her laugh. 
 It was clear and ringing as her voice when she said : 
 
 " You should have educated Dune to stand ridin better 
 than that, Tommy." 
 
 Sheriff Lumley turned hard eyes from Dune Rouse to 
 Sheriff Rule. He saw no help there. His gaze slid back 
 in the direction of Miss Lorimer, passed her and came to 
 rest on the empty coffee cup in front of him. Ostenta 
 tiously he rattled the spoon in the cup. 
 
 " Any coffee left," he grunted. 
 
 " I m makin some more," said the girl. " Give the 
 water a chance to boil, can t you ? " 
 
 Red Kane looked at the stove. His forehead puckered. 
 Plainly he was searching for an elusive thought. What 
 ever the thought it remained elusive for the moment. 
 
 Miss Lorimer smiled and looked upon Billy Bruff with 
 speculation in her eye. The gentleman with the jutting 
 beard avoided her stare. It might almost be said that 
 he dodged it. But all to no purpose. 
 
 " Have you still got that horse you stole from the Two 
 Bars?" inquired Miss Lorimer to the accompaniment 
 of rattling stovelids as she put in more wood. 
 
 " I dunno what yo re talkin about," averred Billy 
 Bruff. 
 
 " Of course you don t. How silly of me. I don t 
 mean the horse. I mean the horses. Twenty-four of 
 them, weren t there? At least the Two Bars went shy 
 that many. You ran em off one moonlight night, hair- 
 
"Ridin Em" 177 
 
 branded em and sold them to Cram and Docket over in 
 Piegan City. Wasn t that the way of it? I heard so, 
 at least." 
 
 " You heard wrong." Mr. BrufFs tone was most em 
 phatic. 
 
 " Funny. My hearin s fine. A Number One. I 
 heard somethin else too, William. They say Bruff isn t 
 your real name at all that it used to be Smith or Jones 
 over west where you came from California, wasn t 
 it?" 
 
 " I never been west o the Bitter Roots," said Mr. 
 Bruff. 
 
 " No? " And oh, her voice was honey-sweet. " No? 
 Were you ever at Fort Rackham, Idaho? " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " You didn t have anythin to do with the shootin of 
 the post trader there, did you? No, of course not. How 
 could you if you were never in Idaho? And, if you were 
 never in Idaho, you couldn t possibly have deserted from 
 the Third Cavalry when it was stationed at Fort Rack- 
 ham. You don t know that five troops of the Third are 
 stationed at Fort Yardley now, do you? " 
 
 Billy BrufFs eyes flickered in spite of himself. But 
 his voice was steady enough as he said : 
 
 " Whadda I care about the Third Cavalry or any other 
 Cavalry ? I never was in the army. I think yo re talkin 
 like a He failed to complete the sentence. 
 
 " Go on," she nodded. " Like a what ? 
 
 " I don t call no women names," was the reply. 
 
 Red s tense frame relaxed. 
 
 " That s right noble of you, Bill," said Miss Lorimer, 
 with a scornful lift of her upper lip. " I didn t think you 
 had it in you. How much were you paid to kill the post 
 trader?" 
 
 " She s crazy," declared Billy Bruff. "Crazy as a 
 June bug." 
 
178 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Am I ? We ll see. Suppose I drop a word to the 
 commandin officer at Yardley that Sam Reynolds, ser 
 geant in K troop, who deserted at Fort Rackham, is a 
 deputy sheriff in Rock County, Colorado. What then, 
 my bouncin boy, what then ? " 
 
 " Fly at it," said Billy Bruff. 
 
 Red looked hard at the man. There was a restless, un 
 easy aspect about him. To be sure there was. No doubt 
 of it. To Red s mind Billy Bruff appeared positively 
 hang-dog. But it is to be feared that Red was somewhat 
 prejudiced. Prejudiced or not, Red felt an overpower 
 ing urge to say what he thought. 
 
 " I ll bet you was a Long Knife all right," he ob 
 served. " An desertin is just what you would do, y bet 
 yuh." 
 
 " Yo re a liar," declared the sunny-tempered Bill. 
 " Yo re a liar by the clock." 
 
 " Callin me a liar once was enough. I heard yuh the 
 first time. I m sorry, once more, I ain t got no gun. 
 But I ll be havin a gun after a while, an then maybe 
 you n me can argue it out. We was goin to, anyway, 
 wasn t we? " 
 
 " Kind o forgot that, huh? " sneered Billy Bruff. 
 
 " No-o," drawled Red, " I didn t forget it. I got a 
 right good memory a right good memory. I can re 
 member word for word just about every thin I heard here 
 this afternoon. An I won t forget none of it neither. 
 I ll stuff her down in the li l ol memory all same salt in a 
 bag an maybe some day it ll all come in useful. Yuh 
 can t tell. Yore bein a deserter now. That s mighty 
 interestin . I dunno when I heard anythin to make me 
 sit up an take notice so much as that. An yore killin 
 the post trader, too. 
 
 " Tell by yore face yo re some brand o criminal. I 
 seen a hoss-thief hung once, an he looked like yuh. An* 
 I seen a murderer lynched killed a woman, he did 
 
"Ridin Em" 179 
 
 an he looked like yuh. Then they was Bert Kenny right 
 in our own home town. He was a tinhorn skin yuh 
 out o two-bits. Yeah, he was that cheap. He tried to 
 rob Mike Flynn s store one night, an Mike gave him both 
 barrels of a Greener loaded with buckshot. An he looked 
 like yuh before he was shot. Them buckshot sort o 
 mussed his features after. Don t you see the resem 
 blance to Bert, Kansas? Some shifty li l eyes, set close 
 like a hawg s, same no- count turn-up nose, same funny- 
 lookin frowsy set o whiskers, same stick-out an stick-up 
 ears, an same open yore mouth, feller. I wanna see 
 if yore teeth are like Bert s." 
 
 " For a thin dime " began Billy BrufT. 
 , " You d slit my gizzard," supplied Red Kane. " I 
 know yuh d like to. But we was talkin about Bert 
 Kenny. He used to drum nervous on a table with his 
 fingers like yo re doin now. What yuh stop for? I 
 don t mind. An he used to work his jaw-muscles in an 
 out like yo re doin too. An stingy! Lordy, feller, 
 Bert was too stingy to buy another man a drink. An 
 mean ! Honest, I guess this Bert Kenny even hated him 
 self. Kind o tough he had to go an get shot, cause you 
 an him would a got along together great. Yo re so 
 much alike." 
 
 " In a minute you ll be sayin I was shot like this Bert 
 Kenny," said Billy BrufT contemptuously. 
 
 " I won t be sayin that yet," smiled Red. " But I hope 
 to later. I shore would like to dirty up clean lead in 
 you." 
 
 "Ain t you runnin up quite a bill, young feller?" 
 Sheriff Lumley cut in with a Uplifting sneer. 
 
 " An how long have you been out o jail? " flashed the 
 retort courteous. " An who gave you license to horn in 
 on my conversation? S pose I am talkin to a polecat, 
 you keep still. When I get ready to talk to you, I ll let 
 yuh know, sport, I ll let yuh know. Lordy, here comes 
 
180 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Telescope Laguerre, Loudon an Tom. I wonder what 
 they want ? " 
 
 Whatever the three wanted they obviously wanted it in 
 a hurry. Their right arms were quirting incessantly. 
 Tom Kane was working his quirt cross-handed. The 
 three horses were racing like frightened deer. 
 
 Thuddy-thud, thuddy-thud, they dusted in between the 
 corral and the ranch-house and skittered to a halt in 
 front of the kitchen door. Tom Kane was first through 
 the doorway. 
 
 " He " he began " shucks," he finished, out of 
 deference to Miss Lorimer, and slid his revolver back into 
 the holster. " I didn t know it was the sheriff. When 
 Riley told me he seen a bunch o riders headin this way, 
 I just cinched a hull on the li l hoss, picked up Telescope 
 an Tom Loudon down at Bill Lainey s an come a- 
 runnin . I thought shore the 88 would be here," he 
 added disappointedly, looking about him as if he half 
 expected an 88 adherent to pop from a place of con 
 cealment. 
 
 " I m sorry they ain t here, Tom," said Red. " But 
 these three gents are almost as good." He indicated with 
 a sweep of his thumb Sheriff Lumley and his two friends. 
 " They been amusin us a lot," he went on. " I seen a 
 monkey eatin peanuts once, but these jiggers are fun 
 nier than that." 
 
 :< Yeah," said Tom, who, quick to take a cue, was eying 
 with lively interest the three providers of entertainment. 
 "Can they do tricks?" 
 
 Telescope Laguerre and Mr. Saltoun s son-in-law and 
 foreman, Tom Loudon, nodded gravely to the men they 
 knew and took off their hats to Miss Lorimer. Loudon 
 winked at Red Kane. The latter stuck his tongue in his 
 cheek and winked back. 
 
 " I dunno who you are," Sheriff Lumley said to Tom 
 Kane, " but if you want trouble, here is where it s made." 
 
"Ridin Em" 181 
 
 " I ve heard talk like that before lots o times," Tom 
 told him. " I ain t dead yet." 
 
 " You will be if you start gettin smoky, Tom," hastily 
 nipped in Jake Rule. " You wasn t here when I said they 
 ain t gonna be no fightin round this shack to-day. You 
 know me, an I m tellin all you gents if they s any shootin 
 to be done I ll do it, an I ll do it first." 
 
 " Which is good English an can be understood by most 
 any one," confirmed Tom. " But I wasn t thinkin o 
 nothin like that. I m here to help out Red, thassall. 
 What s happened to yore gun, Red ? " 
 
 " Ask the sheriff." Red nodded toward Jake Rule. 
 
 " He ll get it back later," said Jake. " But he he 
 got gay an I hadda take it away from him." 
 
 Involuntarily Jake s eyes wandered in the direction 
 of Sheriff Lumley. Tom Kane s eyes followed the 
 other s glance. 
 
 " I was wonderin what happened to the fat feller s 
 face," Tom observed with delight. " An that other 
 feller s got a right black eye. He don t look like he 
 could see out of it none. Didn t you have no help a-tall, 
 Red?" 
 
 " Not a smidgin . Done it all myself. I d a done a 
 better job, only Jake an Kansas an Shorty stopped me 
 before I d more n begun. They re willin the three 
 sharps, I mean to shoot it out some other time." 
 
 " They re willin , huh? That s good What? The 
 three of em against you alone? Now that s what I call 
 real generous. They s nothin mean about them. Oh, 
 no. But I m in on this deal, too, an don t yuh forget 
 it." 
 
 "I m goin outside," snarled Billy Bruff. "They s 
 too many folks in here to suit me." 
 
 "Yo re right," answered Tom Kane. "I ll go out 
 with you." 
 
 But Sheriff Rule had something to say to that. Mem- 
 
i 8 2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 bers of opposing factions could not walk abroad together. 
 Billy Bruff went out alone. 
 
 Within sixty seconds he returned on the jump. 
 
 " She s signalin ! " he bawled insanely, pointing at Miss 
 Lo rimer. " She s signalin with smoke from that 
 stove!" 
 
 " Did you just find it out? " queried Miss Lorimer as 
 she sank into the chair vacated by Red. " You purblind 
 idiot," she continued, tilting back against the wall, and 
 hooking her heels on a rung. "I ve been signalin ever 
 since I lit the fire. You see, the breeze dropped after you 
 arrived. I asked you in for coffee soon s I noticed it. 
 Dad s miles away by this time. Oh, miles and miles. 
 Clever, wasn t I ? " 
 
 She clasped her hands behind her pretty head and 
 laughed up into the dismayed faces belonging to Law and 
 Order. 
 
 " Done ! " yelped Tom Kane and slapped his knee. 
 " Done by a girl! Ain t you the bright lads? " 
 
 " And you never guessed why I talked so much, did 
 you ? " smiled Miss Lorimer. " I suppose you thought I 
 was telling you about yourselves just for fun. That 
 would have been foolish. I wouldn t waste my breath. 
 You backed me up wonderfully with your talkin ," she 
 appended to Red s address. "I didn t think you d 
 catch on." 
 
 " I didn t," he acknowledged, " till I seen yuh put on 
 green wood an a hunk o sod the third time. Then I 
 knowed. Lordy, Jake, don t look so sad. This ain t the 
 first time you been razzledazzled, is it ? " 
 
 " Nor it won t be the last," contributed Tom. " Jake, 
 the drinks are on you." 
 
 To judge by their malevolent expressions, the drinks 
 were likewise on the Rock County gentlemen. There 
 was black murder in the three pairs of eyes riveted on 
 Miss Lorimer. 
 
Ridin Em" 183 
 
 Red rose and stood in front of her. Seeing which, 
 Tom sidled up and added his lean bulk to the barrier. 
 
 " Might s well go back, I s pose," suggested Shorty 
 Rumbold. 
 
 "No," decided Jake Rule, "we ll wait here till to 
 morrow mornin . Maybe them signals wasn t seen." 
 
 " Don t lose any sleep over those signals not bein 
 seen," said Miss Lorimer. " They were, never doubt it. 
 If you want to stay, stay by all means. But would you 
 mind sendin Lumley and his friends outside ? Now that. 
 I m through usin em, I don t want em in my kitchen 
 any longer." 
 
 " Plenty o time," said Lumley, hitching his chair close 
 to the table. " Plenty o time, girl. S pose yore father 
 has sloped; I guess now he didn t take the money with 
 him. You can tell us where that is, an maybe we won t 
 arrest you." 
 
 " Maybe ? " sneered Red. " Did I hear you say may 
 be ? I did hear you say maybe. Tom, I don t believe 
 he means it. I don t believe he means that arrest word 
 neither. Whadda you guess? " 
 
 " I guess yo re right," averred the pugnacious Tom. 
 
 " If I decide to arrest her as a witness, I guess it ll be 
 all right," declared Jake Rule. 
 
 " Shore it will if you decide to," declared Red cheer 
 fully. " But you ain t gonna decide to. You ain t got 
 no warrant for her, have yuh? " 
 
 " I ain t," admitted Jake. " But " 
 
 "Then they ain t no buts , Jake, nary a but. Naw- 
 sir. Lordy, man, you ain t gonna arrest a lady just 
 cause this mangy dog of a Rock County sheriff wants yuh 
 to, are yuh? Since when have you been niggerin for 
 him?" 
 
 This was the ancient game of beclouding the issue, but 
 it worked as the old games do at times. Besides, Sher 
 iff Rule was losing his erstwhile liking for the Rock 
 
184 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 County officers. What Miss Lorimer had said concern 
 ing their pasts was having its effect. 
 
 " I ll bet you ain t even got a warrant for Lorimer 
 neither," said Red, pursuing his advantage. 
 
 " Wrong there," contradicted Jake Rule. " They s a 
 warrant for Lorimer all right, all legal an correct." 
 
 " Lumley brought it, huh? " 
 
 " Yep." 
 
 " I dunno as you said what Lorimer s wanted for." 
 
 " Murder murder an robbery," Lumley answered 
 for the other sheriff and smacked his fat lips spitefully. 
 
 " Which one o yore friends really done it, Lumley? " 
 Red drawled in a soft and gentle voice. 
 
 "We ll get this Lorimer gent which his real name 
 is Lenton " sneered Lumley by way of reply, " an 
 we ll hang him good an plenty for all yo re so smart." 
 
 "You do gimme credit for somethin , don t yuh?" 
 cried Red happily. " I knowed you d get onto me after 
 a while. I just knowed it. Here s another thing before 
 I forget it : Mr. Lorimer or Lenton never committed no 
 murder or robbery neither. Nawsir, not he." 
 
 "If her dad ain t a murderer, why for did she signal him 
 then?" demanded Jake Rule shrewdly. 
 
 Red hadn t thought of this. It was a facer, rather. 
 Nevertheless, he opened his mouth to cry Jake down, but 
 the girl squeezed his elbow warningly before the first 
 word was out. 
 
 " Shut up," she whispered, and stepped past him to face 
 Jake Rule. " I ll tell you why I signaled to my father," 
 she went on, speaking rapidly. " I signaled him because 
 if he s arrested he ll be hung for a crime he never com 
 mitted. The money he took belonged to him. How can 
 a man rob himself ? " 
 
 " It was his brother s money ! " broke in Sheriff Lum 
 ley. "An he killed his own brother, Dick Lenton, to get 
 it" 
 
"Ridin Em" 185 
 
 " That s a lie, and you know it. He only took his own 
 share. He we were miles away when Uncle Dick 
 was killed." 
 
 " Maybe you can prove it," Lumley suggested wasp- 
 ishly. 
 
 " A fine chance we d have of provin anythin down in 
 Rock County, with you and your gang ready and able to 
 swear black s green till all s blue. Dad hasn t a chance, 
 and he knows it. You ve had it in for him ever since he 
 told you to your filthy, lyin face what particular kind of 
 hound-dog you were. You haven t nerve enough to 
 come out in the open and fight like a two-legged he-man. 
 No, not you; you ll sneak and slime and scheme round in 
 the dark when folks aren t lookin till you think every- 
 thin s safe, and then you ll drive your skinnin -knife home 
 right between the shoulder blades. But you ve missed it 
 this time. You ll never get my dad. You ll never take 
 him back to Rock County to swear his life away. Mark 
 what I say, Tom Lumley. You ll kick the wind while 
 he s still well and hearty." 
 
 She took a step toward him, her arm outstretched, and 
 he fell back before her pointed finger. 
 
 " I tell you," she pursued, her black eyes blazing, two 
 bright spots of pink hot on her cheeks, " I tell you, if any 
 body knows who killed Uncle Dick, you know, and I 
 wouldn t be surprised if you were the man that killed 
 him." 
 
 " Look here " began Tom Lumley furiously. 
 
 " Never mind. I don t want to hear another word 
 from you. I ve listened to you long enough. Get, and 
 get quick." 
 
 " I ll go when I get good and ready," was his counter 
 check quarrelsome. 
 
 Yo re ready now," Red Kane told him flatly, one 
 long stride bringing him breast to breast with Tom Lum 
 ley. " Pick up yore feet an stagger out through the door 
 
i 86 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 where you can keep company with the other animals. 
 Flit." 
 
 Tom Lumley tried hard to look down those inexorable 
 gray eyes. But he wasn t man enough. Sixty seconds 
 his gaze shifted, veered back, wandered away again 
 and remained away. Tom Lumley shook his shoulders 
 and turned toward the door. 
 
 " I don t want no trouble now," he said and went 
 out. 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY 
 LUMLEY S LAUGH 
 
 " LORDY, Dot, you don t need to tell us nothin ," said 
 Red. 
 
 " I want to," she declared, sitting down on the bench 
 outside the kitchen door. " You d much better hear it 
 from me than from some one else." 
 
 She crossed her feet and leaned forward, her clasped 
 hands between her knees. Her profile, dark and clean- 
 cut, was in full silhouette against the sunset s orange- 
 tawny. 
 
 Red Kane, sitting on the other end of the same bench, 
 drew a long breath. It must be said that he was think 
 ing more of her profile than of what she was saying. 
 
 "I I don t know where to begin," she hesitated. 
 
 " Thassall right, Dot," said Red, his eyes on that al 
 luring profile. " Lean forward a li l more, will yuh? " 
 
 " Wha what ? " She turned her head quickly. 
 
 " Nothin ," he told her hastily, jerking his shoulder 
 away from his brother s pinching fingers. "I I was 
 afraid you was gonna fall off the bench." 
 
 " Is that why your brother s tryin to kick you? " she 
 asked slowly. 
 
 " No, no, that s only Tom s way. You mustn t mind 
 him. He he don t mean nothin . He s always dev- 
 ilin me. Some day I m gonna make him hard to find. 
 Yessir, I ll just naturally have to crawl his hump real 
 savage." 
 
 " Idjit! " The epithet was uttered in a fierce whisper 
 
i 8 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 as Tom jabbed Red in the ribs with stiffened thumb. 
 " Move over." 
 
 Red obeyed. Tom dropped down beside him, and trod 
 heavily on his instep in the process. 
 
 " You stop it." Again the whisper in Red s ear. 
 " You gotta stop admirin her while I m here any 
 Ugh!" 
 
 For Red had kicked back. Tom at once tucked his 
 legs out of range and surreptitiously fondled a dented 
 shin. 
 
 " You see," said the girl, " my father s real name is 
 Benjamin Lenton. We my father and his brother 
 Dick owned the Empire mine near Flipup, Rock 
 County, Colorado. It s not a big mine, but there s money 
 in it for energetic men. Dad s active enough, Heaven 
 knows, but Uncle Dick was lazier than Ludlam s dog, and 
 he was so lazy he used to lean his head against a wall to 
 bark. 
 
 "We worked the mine; that is, Father did, and I helped, 
 while Uncle Dick lay down in the traces and spent most 
 of his time in Flipup interestin capital, he called it. 
 Capital! All the capital you d find in Flipup you could 
 stick in your eye. We didn t need money, anyway. All 
 the Empire needed was picks and shovels and the arms to 
 use em. Dune Rouse s place was Uncle Dick s favorite 
 hang-out. He and Dune were about as thick as a saloon 
 keeper and a customer ever get to be. Billy Bruff, Sher 
 iff Lumley and a man named Usher weren t far behind 
 Dune in friendliness toward Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Mind you, I m not runnin down Uncle Dick. I m 
 simply tellin the truth about him. There was absolutely 
 no harm in the man. He was just weak, besides bein a 
 natural-born fool and a gambler. Lord, cards weren t a 
 passion with him. They were a disease. 
 
 " Dad never said much to Uncle Dick. He held it 
 wasn t any of his business what he did. It was his own 
 
Lumley s Laugh 189 
 
 money he was wastin , and Dad thought by-and-by he d 
 wade in and do his share. But I knew better. So long 
 as he was allowed to loaf, he d loaf. And it used to make 
 me mad, because I was doin Uncle Dick s work. 
 
 " I d ask Pa to make him hold up his end of the log, 
 but that s all the good it ever did. Dad never would be 
 firm about it. He always was easy-goin that way. I m 
 built differently, and I got good and tired of packin ore 
 while Uncle Dick shuffled the pasteboards with his rap 
 scallion friends. I used to lay Uncle Dick out regularly 
 whenever he d come home for supper. It got so that 
 after a while he didn t come home to supper. Then he 
 took to stayin out all night. I didn t mind that. It 
 made one less to bother about. 
 
 " Maybe I wasn t wise to nag at him all the time. I 
 don t know. I might better have kept my mouth shut. 
 Because one day Uncle Dick came home and said he was 
 tired of bein yelled at by his own niece, and he wasn t 
 goin to stand it any longer, he wasn t, and he was goin to 
 sell the mine, he was. 
 
 " Father objected to that, of course. He d no fault to 
 find with the Empire. Uncle Dick could sell his share 
 of the mine if he wanted to, but as for himself, he d hang 
 on, thank you. 
 
 " That wouldn t do at all, accordin to Uncle Dick. 
 The parties who wanted the mine wanted all or nothin . 
 * Nothin , then is what they ll get, said my dad. Which 
 didn t suit Uncle Dick naturally. He wasn t real drunk 
 at the time, I remember about one foot in the stirrup 
 and the other draggin but he d had sufficient to make 
 him persistent persistent and stubborn. He was all 
 mule that night, Uncle Dick. 
 
 " Well, he and Pa had it hot and heavy back and forth. 
 One would and t other wouldn t till you couldn t hear 
 yourself think. I went out to the corral. It was too 
 noisy for me. 
 
i go Lynch Lawyers 
 
 "Next mornin Dad told me he d agreed to sell his 
 share of the Empire. The buyers were Lumley, Dune 
 Rouse, Usher and Billy Bruff, and the price was sixty 
 thousand dollars in gold. Dad was set on that point 
 the money in gold. And the buyers didn t object. 
 
 " They got the money from Piegan City, and the bill 
 of sale was signed and payment made at Usher s ware 
 house in Flipup. This Usher is a money-lender with two 
 saloons and a gambling house as a sideline, and he had 
 made the necessary arrangements about the gold. 
 
 " We brought the money out to our house at the mine 
 that evenin we expected to go on livin there, Dad and 
 I did and Uncle Dick brought a bottle home with him. 
 Celebratin , he called it. He celebrated all right. 
 
 " First off he began to argue about the sale. Said we 
 should have waited awhile longer. And he was the one 
 that started the sale talk in the very beginnin , mind you. 
 From this he went on to say that half was too much for 
 Dad. A third was plenty. Hadn t he Uncle Dick 
 engineered the sale and done all the brain work? Dad 
 didn t say anythin at first just sat there lookin at his 
 brother. Which didn t help to cool off Uncle Dick any. 
 He kept right on headin toward his finish. He finally 
 said a fourth was plenty for anybody who d only handled 
 the pick and shovel end of it, and that made me wild. 
 
 " There were calluses on the palms of my hands as 
 thick as sole leather, and I d worn out enough pairs of 
 overalls to stock a store. I was hoppin mad, and I 
 talked to Uncle Dick, and he called me names he was 
 pretty drunk by that time and Dad knocked him down 
 flat on his back. Then Uncle Dick got the shotgun out 
 of the corner and tried to shoot Dad. And Dad took the 
 gun away from him and knocked him down again and 
 broke his nose and some of his front teeth. 
 
 " Even then Uncle Dick wasn t satisfied, and he picked 
 up a butcher knife and went for Dad again. Then Dad 
 
Lumley s Laugh 191 
 
 lost his temper, and he bent his gun over Uncle Dick s 
 head and slammed him senseless down in under the table. 
 When Uncle Dick came to after a while, he was pretty 
 sick, and he looked it. He sat up, holdin his head in his 
 hands and groanin , and sayin he d been misunderstood 
 all his life and he d never meant any harm. And the 
 buckshot he let fly at Dad didn t miss by more n two 
 inches ! 
 
 " That s all right, Pa told him. You n me are 
 through. We split now this minute. You can have the 
 house and one-half the money. I ll take the other half 
 and half the horses and wagons and drag it. 
 
 " You can t go too quick or too fast for me, said 
 Uncle Dick, fetchin another groan. But all the same, 
 said Uncle Dick, a third o that money is all you rightly 
 deserve. Dad didn t say anythin , just kept on dividin 
 the gold half and half. When it was all even Steven in 
 two piles, he told Uncle Dick to count it, and Uncle Dick 
 did. Bein still mellow, although a lot soberer than he 
 was at first, it took him a long time. He got it over with 
 at last and tucked his thirty thousand away in the oven, 
 still grumblin that it wasn t fair and he should have had 
 two-thirds. Then he sat down on the floor all bloody 
 as he was, braced his back against the oven door and went 
 to sleep. 
 
 " We loaded our share of the household belongin s into 
 the wagons, caught up the horses and pulled out, leavin 
 Uncle Dick snorin . We followed the Seymour trail in- 
 tendin to go over to the country north of Piegan City 
 later. 
 
 " Next evenin , not more n half an hour after we d 
 thrown down for the night, Sam Wylie, one of our 
 Flipup friends, came peltin up and said Uncle Dick had 
 been murdered. When the new owners of the mine rode 
 out to take possession that mornin , Lumley wanted a 
 drink and went to the house. There was Uncle Dick shot 
 
192 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 to death, lyin on the kitchen floor. There was no sign of 
 any money anywhere, and Uncle Dick s three-diamond 
 ring that he paid a gambler a thousand dollars for in 
 Cheyenne was gone and Ltimley and the others were 
 talkin of Dad as the thief and murderer. Some said they 
 were makin out a warrant when he left to warn us. 
 
 " Well, it did look suspicious, you can see that our 
 leavin an all. We knew that if Dad was arrested he 
 wouldn t have any show. The sheriff, who didn t like 
 him anyway, would be sure to make an example of him. 
 It was too good a chance to miss rid himself of an 
 enemy and make a record at one fell swoop. 
 
 "We talked it over, Dad and I, and we decided our 
 best move was to run. We didn t like the idea exactly, 
 but it was better than havin Dad hung; so we left the 
 wagons standin and rode off into the mountains. We 
 took all the horses with us, naturally, and we certainly 
 made a lot of trail for the next month. At the end of 
 that time we were down in the Nation. We stayed there 
 a couple of months, livin under the name of Lorimer, 
 and then moved on into Texas. We lived awhile in 
 Goliad County and then drifted west again to Agua Seca 
 ranch near the White Sands in New Mexico. 
 
 " We hung round there a spell and wound up the year 
 with four months at Lincoln, where Pa bought out a little 
 store and tried to settle down. But it was no go. He 
 didn t like keepin store a miner never does, as a rule. 
 So we pulled our freight again, this time with wagons, 
 expectin to nester somewhere. We finally reached this 
 place, and and that s all, I guess." 
 
 Miss Lenton looked down at the clasped hands between 
 her knees. Then she raised her head and faced Red and 
 his brother. Her face showed gray and hazy in the dusk. 
 
 " Well," she said in a low voice, " what do you think 
 of it all?" 
 
 " I think them four gents," averred Red Kane emphat- 
 
Lumley s Laugh 193 
 
 ically, " Lumley, Bruff, Rouse an Usher are in this mur 
 der deal up to their belts. Thirty thousand dollars in the 
 stove, an Lumley was the man to find it. It was a pick 
 up for him, a pick-up. He couldn t a ordered it better. 
 Nawsir. No sign o the money anywhere an yore father 
 blamed instanter. Shore he would be." 
 
 " You think he should have given himself up? " asked 
 Miss Lenton. 
 
 " Lordy, no, I should say not. He done the best thing 
 he could do under the circumstances. But them was bad 
 circumstances, an mighty black-lookin . They wasn t no 
 witnesses but you to the quarrel between yore pa an yore 
 uncle?" 
 
 " I was the only other person within two miles, I 
 guess." 
 
 " Shore, an what was yore uncle shot with? " 
 
 " Sam Wylie said with the shotgun. Father had left 
 that as part of Uncle Dick s share, you see." 
 
 " Shot with the family shotgun, Dot, makes it worse, 
 if anythin . Them fellers shore are holdin four aces an 
 the joker." 
 
 " I know it," the girl said. " It it Oh, it s awful. 
 Nun-now we ve got to go on the road again. And I did 
 so want to settle down. It s not good for Dad to be con 
 tinually on the move." 
 
 " He ll have to be unless this deal s fixed up," said Red 
 soberly. 
 
 "If he surrenders and stands his trial he ll " 
 
 " I know," nodded Red. " I ain t wantin him to give 
 himself up, not for a minute. But this traipsin round 
 can t go on. Some day they ll come up on him again like 
 they done here, an maybe the next time they ll rope him 
 good. Ain t that the way you see it, Tom? " 
 
 " Shore," assented Tom. " They s only one thing to 
 do catch the real murderer." 
 
 " An till he is caught, Dot, yore pa won t never be 
 
1 94 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 safe never. Why, for that thirty thousand dollars 
 they d follow him for forty years. It s more n a safe bet 
 they would." 
 
 " How are you goin to fix it up, then ? It s all very 
 well to say, Catch the real murderer. How are you 
 goin to catch him? And who s goin to catch him? " 
 
 "Who? That s easy. I m the answer." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Me." 
 
 " But " 
 
 "But why not? I m free, white an twenty-one. I 
 got all the growth I ll ever get. An I ain t busy right 
 now. What more do yuh want? Dot, I m just the 
 feller to go down there to Rock County an reform it a 
 few. From what you say an from what I ve seen o 
 the sheriff an his outfit, I guess reformin wouldn t hurt 
 em none. Tom ll go with me. Huh, Tom? " 
 
 "Yeah," said Tom without hesitation. "You bet I ll 
 go. You ll need somebody to bury you likely, an it 
 might as well be me." 
 
 " You ll never put me to bed with a shovel, old settler. 
 Never think it. There may be buryin done you can t 
 always tell what ll happen on a job like this but the 
 both of us ll do the diggin . Lordy, Dot, don t look that- 
 away. Tom didn t mean nothin , the poor fool. He s 
 never happy without he s pullin a long face an grumblin 
 what a rough old world she is. So don t you mind him, 
 cause I don t. Lookit, they must be a few straight gents 
 in Rock County. They can t all be like Lumley s bunch. 
 They s this Sam Wylie, f rinstance, an who else ? " 
 
 " The two Davis boys they run the California store 
 in Flipup and Bill Stringer and Pike County Bowers 
 were Dad s friends and the only ones in Flipup I d be 
 absolutely sure of. There are other honest men in the 
 county itself, but they re not organized, and I don t know 
 who they are, anyway." 
 
Lumley s Laugh 195 
 
 " Maybe we can find out. Listen, Dot, all them things 
 you said to these fellers can they be proved? " 
 
 " I don t know. Every bit of what I said I d worked 
 out from dribs and drabs of gossip let fall by Uncle Dick 
 when he d come home drunk and spend the evenin with a 
 bottle. But there was somethin in it all you could tell 
 as much by the way they acted. Bruff held the steadiest 
 of the three, but did you notice his eyes when I said the 
 Third Cavalry was at Fort Yardley? " 
 
 " Shore. Guess he didn t know that regiment is back 
 east at Fort Snelling." 
 
 " Neither did I. I wish it was nearer. However, if 
 we can t use the desertion charge, there are enough other 
 things against him against all three, to hang em twice 
 apiece." 
 
 " But the thing is to get proof, an proof that ll stick. 
 Even this kind o proof ain t always waterproof. I ve 
 seen a murderer with ten witnesses against him acquitted 
 just too easy. These sharps would have their own wit 
 nesses too, do yuh see, an they d perjure themselves like 
 li l men. Which is the worst o shore- nough legal law 
 perjured testimony is every bit as good as honest-to- 
 Gawd evidence." 
 
 " You know it," corroborated Tom. 
 
 " Let s go in an get somethin to eat," said Miss Len- 
 ton, rising to her feet and patting down and tucking in 
 stray and sundry locks of curly hair. " It ll make all of 
 us feel more cheerful." 
 
 But eating added little to their sadly tattered peace of 
 mind. The aforesaid peace was completely reduced to 
 dust by the return after moonrise of those who had 
 departed in the early morning. They dismounted at the 
 kitchen door. Lumley was the first to enter. 
 
 " Bring him in," said Lumley, blatant triumph in his 
 smile. " Bring him in an let his daughter see him." 
 
 Red Kane dropped the dishcloth and stepped nearer to 
 
196 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Miss Lenton. The girl carefully set down the coffeepot 
 she was swabbing and turned toward the doorway. 
 
 In through the doorway came her father hand 
 cuffed. 
 
 The girl, white to the lips, took one stumbling forward 
 step and then pitched headlong in a dead faint. But 
 Red s long arm shot beneath her as she fell. He eased 
 her down on the floor and turned her over on her back. 
 Kneeling on one heel, he faced his enemy across her 
 body. Lumley, could he have but known it, was as near 
 death as he had ever been in his precarious life. 
 
 " I guess," observed Lumley, his porcine eyes glittering 
 with frank delight, " I guess I get the last laugh after all." 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 A POINT OF LAW 
 
 LENTON, alias Lorimer, freed of the handcuffs, ate his 
 supper with appetite. His daughter hovered about him. 
 She said no word. By the trembling of her chin it was 
 obvious that she was very close to tears. 
 
 " You d never a got me if my hoss hadn t a fell 
 down," remarked Lenton, stirring the sugar in his third 
 cup of coffee. 
 
 " That was a lucky tumble for us," said Lumley. 
 
 " I was talkin to the other sheriff," explained Lenton, 
 switching cold eyes on Lumley. 
 
 " You ll talk to me before yo re through," grinned 
 Lumley. " You ll stretch well, old-timer. Bein tall, 
 yore neck ll lengthen four inches. I ve seen em act just 
 like rubber." 
 
 " That ll be about all," suggested Red Kane at Sheriff 
 Lumley s exhibition of bad taste in repartee. 
 
 " I guess yes." Jake Rule confirmed the rebuke. 
 
 " I shore oughta had better sense n to head back for 
 here in the mornin ," went on the unruffled Lenton. " I 
 might a knowed you wouldn t go to Farewell so soon." 
 
 " Tough luck," said Jake Rule. " Next time yuh ll 
 know better." 
 
 " Next time! " sneered Billy Bruff. " They won t be 
 no next time ! " 
 
 " After my readin the signals so plain an all," Lenton 
 said, paying no attention to Bruff, " to be glommed onto 
 thisaway is shore discouragin ." 
 
198 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Ain t it," assented Jake Rule. " Nemmine gettin 
 up, Lenton. Here s the makin s, if that s what yuh want." 
 
 "If that s the way yuh feel about it, no movin goes. 
 Yo re jomightyful cautious, ain t yuh? You must think 
 I m gonna try to escape or somethinV 
 
 " I ain t trustin you a foot," Jake told him. " I m 
 free to admit I ll be glad when yo re off my hands to 
 morrow." 
 
 :< You ain t sendin him back to Rock County to-mor 
 row, are yuh ? " demanded Red Kane. 
 
 "An why not?" cut in Lumley hotly. "Why not, 
 I d like to know?" 
 
 Red Kane was at a loss for an answer. Then suddenly 
 the fragmentary recollection of a long-forgotten lawsuit 
 stuck its head above the surface in the backwaters of his 
 mind. 
 
 :( Yuh said they s a warrant out for Ben Lenton, didn t 
 yuh? " Red asked of Jake Rule. 
 
 " Shore," replied the Fort Creek sheriff. 
 
 " Lemme see it," said Red. 
 
 " He s got it." Jake nodded toward Lumley. 
 
 " Lemme see it," Red repeated to Lumley. 
 
 Lumley hesitated. He wanted to refuse, if only to 
 gratify petty spite. 
 
 " Lemme see it." Red stretched forth an arm. " This 
 warrant may not be legal." 
 
 At which Lumley produced the warrant from an inner 
 pocket of his vest and slapped it down on Red s open 
 palm. 
 
 " Read her off," invited Lumley, " an see if she ain t 
 legal to the finish." 
 
 Red opened the document and spread it flat on the 
 table. So far as he could discover, the warrant was 
 water-tight. 
 
 " Lessee yore extradition papers," Red said to Lumley. 
 
 Lumley did not hesitate now. He handed the papers 
 
A Point of Law 199 
 
 to Red at once. At first glance the extradition papers 
 looked to be as proof as the warrant. 
 
 " See," pointed out Lumley " signed by both Gov 
 ernors. What more djuh want?" 
 
 Lumley would have been better advised to keep silent. 
 Under the spur of his speech Red remembered another 
 detail in that long- forgotten case. 
 
 " When did yuh arrest Ben Lenton? " Red inquired of 
 Jake Rule. 
 
 " This mornin ." 
 
 " Then when these extradition papers were made out 
 he hadn t been arrested." 
 
 "That s got nothin to do with it!" bawled Lumley. 
 " Them papers is all right! " 
 
 " When you went to the Governor of Colorado for 
 these extradition papers," Red drawled serenely, " you 
 hadda say the gent you wanted em for had been arrested, 
 didn t yuh?" 
 
 Lumley made no reply. He looked uncertainly at Billy 
 Bruff. 
 
 "Didn t yuh?" persisted Red Kane. 
 
 " Yes, I did ! " Lumley cried defiantly. " What of it ? " 
 
 " Only this, feller, only this. Just a li l point you over 
 looked. When you went to yore Governor an told him 
 Ben Lenton was arrested, you lied, see, cause Ben was 
 strollin free an careless wherever he liked at the time. 
 Unless a man is already arrested, yuh can t take out extra 
 dition papers for him. That s the law, an for once the 
 law is common-sensical. Any fool oughta know yuh can t 
 extradite a gent who don t exist yessir, exist. I heard 
 Judge Allison down in Marysville use that very word 
 an Lenton didn t begin to exist as a criminal under the 
 law till he was arrested." 
 
 " But he s arrested now," exclaimed Lumley, " an* I 
 guess you can t deny that ! " 
 
 " I ain t denyin it. I m sayin these papers is no good, 
 
2oo Lynch Lawyers 
 
 an you gotta get new ones before you can take Lenton 
 out o Fort Creek County. I ain t even shore that Jake 
 Rule can hold him." 
 
 " I ll hold him all right," Jake assured Red. " Don t 
 bet money against that. I can hold him on suspicion, 
 anyway. Shucks, Lumley, why was you in such a hurry ? 
 Why didn t yuh wait to get yore papers till after Lenton 
 was arrested ? " 
 
 You mean to say yuh won t honor them papers?" 
 ga p ped Lumley. 
 
 Yep." Jake nodded an emphatic head. " I dunno 
 why I never thought of it before, but it s just like Red 
 says : them papers wasn t no good when they was made 
 out. This bein so don t make me none too shore they re 
 any good now. The best thing you can do is flit back 
 to Colorado an get new ones. . . . Huh? You know 
 as well as I do, yore Colorado warrant don t travel a foot 
 in this Territory not a foot." 
 
 " I don t give a whether them extradition papers 
 
 wasn t no good then," bellowed Lumley, manifestly deter 
 mined to override all opposition ; " they re good now. 
 He s been identified by us, ain t he? He s been arrested 
 by you, ain t he ? All right, then. Here s the extradition 
 papers. They re drawed up legal. I call on you to obey 
 em an gimme this prisoner." 
 
 " They ain t legal ! " gainsaid Red quite as vehemently. 
 " You wanna go slow, Jake. You better " 
 
 " I don t need nobody to tell me how to run my office, 
 Red," interrupted the harassed Fort Creek sheriff. 
 " They s somethin* funny about this business," he contin 
 ued, turning on the Rock County man. " When you 
 took these papers to our Governor to sign you told him 
 Lenton was in custody, like you told yore own Governor, 
 or you d never a got him to sign em. I dunno nothin 
 about the Governor of Colorado, but I know the Governor 
 of this Territory, an he s a lawyer, an he d never allow 
 
A Point of Law 201 
 
 no such monkeyin with the law as this. Which I should 
 say not in a million years. Shut up, Lumley! I m 
 a-doin this talkin . I tell yuh flat, I think yo re runnin 
 a brace game, but I m willin to be fair. We ll get legal 
 advice on this." 
 
 " Legal advice ! " yelped Lumley. " Where in Gawd s 
 name yuh gonna get legal advice this side o Piegan City ? 
 I can t wait for " 
 
 " Yuh can go home whenever yo re ready. They ain t 
 no ropes on you. But my prisoner don t go till I get that 
 legal advice, an I don t have to send to Piegan City for 
 it neither. Our Governor s takin a vacation up at Cutter. 
 He told me he was gonna make it two weeks when he 
 stopped off at Farewell, an the two weeks ain t up yet. 
 So I ll ride up to Cutter an find out what s what. You 
 can come along if yuh wanna." 
 
 " I don t wanna. Not for a minute. I m gonna stay 
 by the prisoner." 
 
 " I ll leave Kansas Casey on guard at the jail, so " 
 
 " Then I ll help Kansas Casey," declared Sheriff Lum 
 ley. " All three of us ll help Kansas Casey. I ain t 
 takin no chances, Mister Sheriff, not a single chance." 
 
 " All right. Through, Lenton ? Le s be movin then. 
 That s enough, Lumley. You ve asked him about the 
 money forty times. Let it go at that." 
 
 Red Kane, crossing the room, passed in front of Tele 
 scope Laguerre. The half-breed, who had started to 
 rise as Jake Rule spoke, resumed his seat. 
 
 " Ain t yuh comin , Telescope ? " queried Tom Loudon 
 from the doorway. 
 
 " My pony she tire," said the half-breed, the teeth 
 flashing white beneath his stubby black mustache. " I 
 t ink I weel stay here aw ile mebbeso." 
 
 When the posse rode away into the moonlit night, Dot 
 Lenton slumped down on the doorsill and began to cry. 
 
 " Thassall right," said Red soothingly, awkwardly pat- 
 
2O2 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 ting her shoulder. " Thassall right now. Don t you 
 fret. Don t you fret a single mite. Yore pa ain t gonna 
 stay in that jail long." 
 
 " Wha what do you mean? " 
 
 The light from the kitchen slanted across the tear- 
 stained face when she raised her head. 
 
 " I mean we re gonna get him out." 
 
 " You re goin to get him out ! " 
 
 " Yep, y bet yuh." With the utmost confidence. 
 
 "How?" 
 
 She lifted a hand and laid it tremblingly on his knee. 
 
 Telescope Laguerre tactfully looked out of the window. 
 He was beginning to understand. Tom Kane understood 
 but too well, and he did not look out of the window. He 
 stared gloomily across the glowing end of his cigarette at 
 the small hand outlined against the leather of Red s chaps. 
 
 " Le s go out to the spring," suggested Red. " I m 
 kind o thirsty. Ain t you ? " 
 
 Apparently the girl was, for she allowed him to help 
 her to her feet. The two drifted away under the moon 
 toward the spot where the cottonwoods shadows splashed 
 the grass with velvet black. 
 
 " In a minute he ll come back with a fine scheme to get 
 us both hung," grumbled Tom Kane. 
 
 " How? " inquired Telescope. 
 
 " I dunno how, but I know him. You heard what he 
 said about gettin Lenton out o jail, didn t yuh? Aw 
 right, he meant it. But he s got his nerve pullin you in, 
 Telescope. They wasn t no call for that. I saw him 
 pinch yore knee, an I tried to catch his eye, but he 
 wouldn t look." 
 
 " Dat ees all right," smiled the half-breed. " Eef Red 
 she wan for me to help heem, by gar I weel help heem, 
 me. Wat you t ink about dat man Lenton, Tom ? " 
 
 " We-ell, I ll tell yuh, Telescope. The evidence is all 
 against Lenton, but I m believin that girl. Hell s bells, 
 
A Point of Law 203 
 
 when she says a thing, yuh gotta believe it. Yuh can t 
 help yoreself. An she say he didn t commit no murder 
 nor robbery neither." 
 
 " Den Lenton she didn ," Telescope declared with 
 finality. " Dat girl she have de hones face, un dem tree 
 men from Coloraydo dey have not de hones face. I tell 
 you, Tom, eef I was for have much beezness wit dem 
 tree men, I t ink I would wear my seex-shootair inside de 
 waist-ban o my pant , by gar. I do not trus dem not 
 so far as I can see de skeetair een de moonlight. Gimme 
 de match." 
 
 When Red and Miss Lenton reached the spring, the 
 blazoned purpose of their coming fled their minds. Miss 
 Lenton turned to Red and took hold of the lapels of his 
 vest. 
 
 " How will you get him out? " she demanded. 
 
 He found it difficult to pattern his thoughts to speak 
 coherently. She was so near. Her face was within six 
 inches of his face. The sweet scent of her hair was in 
 his nostrils. She leaned against him ever so little. The 
 soft darkness enveloped them. 
 
 Red, feeling strangely dizzy, a throbbing roar as of 
 many distant waterfalls in his ears, stared over the girl s 
 head at the corral and the ranch-house where they glim 
 mered greeny-gray in the moonshine. In the lower half 
 of the kitchen window as in a picture frame, the motion 
 less head and shoulders of Telescope Laguerre bulked 
 against the lamplight. 
 
 " Lordy," whispered Red Kane, breathing deeply, " we 
 ain t gonna get nowhere thisaway. Here here s a rock, 
 Dot. You sit on it." 
 
 She loosed her hold on his lapels and obeyed him as 
 obediently as a little girl. He sat down cross-legged in 
 front of her and pushed his hat back from his damp fore 
 head. 
 
 " I got a idea," he said, his eyes on the cloudy gray oval 
 
204 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 that was her face. " It ain t all clear yet in my mind. 
 Part I ll have to work out as I go along. Yuh gotta in 
 a case like this, cause yuh neve.r know what the other 
 feller s gonna do. 
 
 " Yore dad ll be in the Farewell calaboose till day after 
 to-morrow. Jake won t get back from Cutter before late 
 to-morrow night, an maybe he won t then. The Gover 
 nor may not be in Cutter. He may be off fishin or out 
 at Lane s Ranch over north o Cutter about ten miles. 
 Tump Lane s a friend o the Governor s, an it ain t likely 
 he d come alia way up here an not visit Tump. So yuh 
 see, if Jake has to scout round after the Governor, it ll 
 take time, an maybe it ll be a couple o days before Jake 
 gets back with what he went for. 
 
 " But I ain t figurin to need two days. To-morrow 
 night, if I ain t out o luck complete, we ll turn the trick. 
 It s thisaway, Dot : Tom an me n Telescope, we ll " 
 
 And he went on to tell with as much detail as possible 
 his plan for the release of Mr. Lenton. 
 
 The girl listened in silence. When he had finished, 
 she breathed a long, quivering sigh. 
 
 " I think it ll work," she said. " But there ll be danger; 
 so I m goin with you." 
 
 Red chuckled in tender scorn of her. 
 
 "That d be real sensible, wouldn t it?" he smiled. 
 "Yo re chimin in would make it twice as dangerous. 
 Not that they s any real danger, of course," he hastened 
 to add. " Only a li l risk, an they s that every time yuh 
 saddle a hoss. Don t you worry, Dot, everything gonna 
 go off like a clock wound up. We " 
 
 " I m goin with you," she interrupted. 
 
 " Not if I gotta tie yuh down you ain t," he told her 
 flatly. 
 
 " I can t let you take every chance alone," she persisted 
 stubbornly. " I m goin , I tell you, and that s all there 
 is to it." 
 
A Point of Law 205 
 
 "Don t you see that yo re needed right here?" he 
 asked patiently. " The first place they ll search is this 
 ranch-house, an they ll bust out here on the jump, lemme 
 tell yuh. An you gotta be here when they come all 
 ready to play the innocent. An yuh gotta play the 
 innocent strong so strong they ll think yuh dunno 
 nothin about the jail-break. Cause, yuh see, if yuh 
 dunno nothin about it, the first thing yore dad would do 
 would be to come see yuh or write to yuh or let yuh know 
 somehow; so they ll watch the ranch mighty close, an 
 they won t scout round so energetic after yore father. 
 
 " Tom Lumley an his two burlies won t, special. 
 They ll take root near where they think the money is 
 likely. An I want em to do that, y bet yuh. The 
 longer they stay away from Rock County an Flipup, the 
 better I ll be pleased. They re slick. I give em credit 
 for that. They showed it by not swearin out a warrant 
 for you along with yore pa. They don t want you on no 
 witness stand yet awhile. You got plenty o car 
 tridges?" 
 
 "Plenty. Why?" 
 
 " Yo re gonna be here alone, an " 
 " Silly ! " she interrupted. " Who d hurt me ? " 
 "For thirty thousand dollars some jiggers would 
 Well, Dot, you gotta risk it at first till Jake an Kansas 
 have been out here an searched an asked questions. 
 After that you spend all the time you can in Farewell. 
 Stay with Joy Blythe, Mike Flynn s partner, or Mis 
 Jackson. They ll be tickled to death to have you. I ll 
 tell Telescope to pass the word to Jake an Kansas to 
 lookout yore game all they can. They bein after yore 
 pa won t make no differ. They ain t gonna see no woman 
 hurt. Will yuh do as I say now? . . . Well, that ain t 
 much of a promise, but I s pose I ll have to be satisfied. 
 Yo re the doctor. . . . Huh? No, Dot, I don t wanna 
 hear! I don t wanna know where the money s hid. I 
 
206 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 might talk in my sleep or get delirious or somethin an 
 let it out. You keep it to yoreself. Shore, I know yuh 
 trust me, but I d a heap rather yuh didn t tell me." 
 
 Her body swayed toward him. 
 
 " You re good," she whispered. " You re just good. 
 I I Red, if you get my father out of this, I ll marry 
 you." 
 
 " Will yuh? " said he calmly, not altering his position 
 in the slightest. " Would that be the only reason? " 
 
 " I ll risk the the other," she affirmed unsteadily. 
 
 " Not with me." Emphatically. " Look here, girl," 
 he continued in lower but no whit less earnest tones, " this 
 love part o marriage is the greatest thing in the world. 
 It s the only reason they is for marriage. The only thing 
 that makes bein married worth while is love. It s like 
 the saddle on the hoss, Dot. The hoss can be rode bare 
 back, but even if he don t pile yuh, yo re shore to be a 
 heap weary an wanna get off an walk before long. I 
 don t I wouldn t have yuh marry me till yuh say yuh 
 love me. Yuh can t say that now, can yuh? " 
 
 " I don t know. I m not sure. I " 
 
 " There now. If yuh loved me, yuh d say so right 
 out." 
 
 " But I tried to, Red. I did, honestly. An I can t. 
 It it wouldn t be true." 
 
 "Shore, thassall right. It will be true some day. 
 You got to love me. No two ways about that. Yuh just 
 got to. An yo re gonna. I can wait. Yo re a heap 
 worth waitin for." 
 
 " But but suppose I never am able to say it truth 
 fully?" 
 
 At this he swept an arm across and downward as one 
 who brushes away the trifling fly. 
 
 " I m tellin you over an over again," he affirmed with 
 the utmost earnestness, " that yo re gonna. G-O-N-E 
 gone, T-O to gonna. Why, listen, girl, I never was 
 
A Point of Law 207 
 
 religious much. They s more dance-halls than churches 
 out here, anyway, an besides I never thought about such 
 things, bein busy myself most always, but if they ain t a 
 heaven, then why was I allowed to find you like I did? 
 Shore, Heaven wouldn t never a lemme fall in love with 
 you so hard if you wasn t meant to love me back some 
 time. Now, don t say nothin . Just you set right still 
 an think it over. I gotta go in the house an fix things 
 up with Tom an Telescope." 
 
 When Red entered the ranch-house, the half-breed 
 looked at him woodenly. Tom, apparently plunged in 
 the dark depths of gloom, stared sulkily at his own toes. 
 Red sat down on the table edge and smiled cheerily. 
 " We gotta get Ben Lenton out o jail," said he. " I 
 got it planned to a fareyouwell. All we gotta do " 
 
 "What d I tell yuh, Telescope?" interrupted Tom. 
 " Here s where we all git ten years apiece at Piegan City, 
 if we ain t buried first, which is also plumb likely. G on, 
 Red. Don t lemme choke yuh off." 
 
 " You ain t," Red said calmly, unhurriedly building a 
 cigarette. " I ve changed my mind. I ll tell yuh my 
 scheme while we re ridin to the Bar S. We ll save time 
 thataway." 
 
 " Whadda yuh wanna go to the Bar S for? " demanded 
 the irritable Tom. " I thought you was through there 
 once." 
 
 " I am, but I want my time. I got seventy round hard 
 simoleums a-comin to me, an they ll be right handy for 
 a young gent my size. What say we start in about ten 
 minutes? I gotta pack in some water from the spring 
 first. Nemmine about helping me. Thank yuh most to 
 death. I m plenty able to lift two pails without strainin 
 any muscles." 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 THE BAR S 
 
 " AN if any sport present has a better idea," said Red 
 as the horses single-footed through the moonshot night, 
 " le s hear it." 
 
 " Swelled head, ain t he? " grunted Tom to Telescope. 
 " My own brother, an all swelled up like a poisoned pup. 
 You don t mean to say yuh thought that all up without 
 any help, Red yore own self, out o yore own head? " 
 
 " I mean to say lots of things," said Red, " but if I 
 was to tell yuh only a quarter of em, yuh d get insulted 
 an drill me. Which will be about all from you." 
 
 " Oh, will it, you red-headed chipmunk ? You shore 
 got all kinds o gall, you have. My barn ! You act like 
 barns didn t cost nothin . Aw, I know you ll pay me 
 some day. You bet you will, old settler. But alia same, 
 if you d prance out an do all yore li l funny businesses 
 private so s if anybody s wiped out it ll be only yoreself, 
 I d be tickled to death. But not you. Oh, no, not by a 
 mile an a half. You gotta rope in Telescope, just as if 
 he was interested. Lookit here, Red, ain t I enough ? " 
 
 " I ain t heard Telescope kickin none," countered Red. 
 
 " You won neither," declared the halfbreed. " Dees 
 weel be amusant, bien sur. I do not like dat Meestair 
 Lumley. She have de beeg mouth." 
 
 " They know Telescope stayed at Lorimer s Lenton s 
 I mean, after they left," said Tom dubiously, rubbing his 
 chin with the back of his hand. " Maybe now they d be 
 
The Bar S 209 
 
 suspicious of him. Maybe now they wouldn t ask him to 
 do no trailin ." 
 
 " Trust Telescope." Red nodded a confident head. 
 " They know he s the best trailer in the territory. Shore 
 they ll ask him." 
 
 " You bet you," affirmed the half-breed. " I have been 
 de scout; I have leeve wit Enjun. I weel mak dem 
 sheriff see wat I wan dem to see un t ink wat I wan 
 dem to t ink. I weel walk een de watair-r-r plenty," he 
 added emphatically, and his black eyes rolled in company 
 with his " r s." 
 
 " See, Tom," Red pointed out kindly, " yo re a fool like 
 always. But don t get down-hearted. Maybe yuh ll out 
 grow it." 
 
 Mere words could not possibly do justice to Tom s feel 
 ings, but he did his best. 
 
 Two hours later, when the ground began to lift to the 
 eastern shoulder of Indian Ridge, they split one and two, 
 Telescope riding away toward Farewell, the brothers 
 heading southward into the Big Bend of the Lazy River, 
 where lay the Bar S ranch. 
 
 " An I gotta leave my business," complained Tom, 
 once Telescope was beyond hearing, " an help you get a 
 girl I don t want yuh to get." 
 
 " You ain t helpin me get no girl," tossed back Red. 
 " Not for a minute you ain t. Yo re only gonna help me 
 get her pa out o jail. Thassall, Tom. Just a li l jail- 
 bustin ." 
 
 " Same thing, feller, same thing. Don t yuh guess I 
 know how yuh ll stand with that girl when we turn her 
 pa loose? I ain t no plumb idjit, if I am yore brother. 
 Why, she ll fall on yore neck like she s never gonna leggo. 
 An then yuh ll marry her." 
 
 " That ll be great," declared Red, and the happiness in 
 his voice was tremendous. 
 
 "Good-by," snarled the goaded Tom, "you ve gone 
 
2 i o Lynch Lawyers 
 
 under for the third time. I knowed it. You always was 
 the unlucky one of us two." 
 
 "Unlucky?" 
 
 " Shore unlucky, but they s no tellin how much till 
 after yuh been married long enough to get over the honey 
 moon feelin . Unlucky! Which I should remark! You ll 
 look at me caperin round foot-free an fancy-loose, an 
 you ll say, Lordy, I used to be like that once, an me, 
 I ll lay back an laugh at yuh. Don t yuh never tell me I 
 didn t warn yuh. I got a sore throat doin it." 
 
 At midnight they made a dry camp beside the trail and 
 slept four hours. They were trotting on at a few min 
 utes past four. 
 
 The Bar S outfit were noisily sitting down to breakfast 
 in the log dining room adjoining the cook-shack when 
 Red and his brother walked in. 
 
 "Here s the trouble-makers," bawled Buff Warren. 
 " Licked the rest o the 88 yet, Tom? " 
 
 " Not yet," grinned Tom. " I done left a few for you 
 fellers." 
 
 " We don t never get a chance at em," mourned the 
 vainglorious " Kid." " You bet they keep out of our way." 
 
 " Hear who s talkin ! " cried Dave Cantrell. " Ever 
 since the Kid s voice changed for good he acts just like 
 a grown-up. Wears a gun an everythin ." 
 
 " I see I gotta come back," said Red, swinging a leg 
 over the bench at Dave s side. " The Kid shore needs a 
 chaperon. An I was the only one that ever could man 
 age him. Has Jimmie had to spank him lately? " 
 
 Here the maligned and affronted Kid flung a hunk of 
 bread. Red ducked and countered with a Dill pickle, 
 long and luscious, that struck the Kid on the left eye and 
 spattered his face most nobly. 
 
 " Ow ! " yelled the Kid, and, clapping his sleeve to the 
 smarting organ, he rushed outdoors in quest of cooling 
 waters. 
 
The Bar S 211 
 
 " Things ain t changed a bit," observed Red as, keep 
 ing both hands busy the while, he looked about him with 
 innocent eyes. 
 
 " Neither have you, yuh walrus ! " shrilled the Kid s 
 Twin from across the table. " Dave, that road agent has 
 glommed yore plate an knife an fork! " 
 
 " Thassall right," Red said easily, halting a forkful of 
 fried ham and eggs half-way to his mouth. " Dave 
 hadn t used em yet." 
 
 The fork completed its journey. Red worked his jaws 
 squirrel-wise with great rapidity and winked at the out 
 raged Dave, who was guarding his coffee-cup with one 
 hand and reaching for a clean plate with the other. 
 
 Chug! Something soft and squashy struck Red in the 
 back of the neck as he was in the act of stuffing more ham 
 between his jaws. Said jaws came together with a snap, 
 and tears stood in Red s eyes. 
 
 " I guess we re even now," chirped the Kid, skipping 
 round the table and hopping nimbly into his seat. " That 
 potato wasn t as soft as I d a liked, but it was the best 
 I could find. What s the matter, Reddy? Didn t bite 
 yore cheek, did yuh? " 
 
 " No-o," drawled Red, making manful effort to speak 
 distinctly, for he had indeed severely bitten his cheek. 
 " No-o, I was just a-studyin whether . I d feed here 
 with the animals or go out to the corral an eat with 
 the folks." 
 
 " You better stay here," suggested Bill Holliday. 
 " You ll feel more at home." 
 
 " I might feel plumb at home," said Red, " if Tim 
 Page would stop lookin at me. He ain t took his eyes 
 off me since I come in." 
 
 " You bet I ain t," averred Tim. " I been admirin 
 yore leather cuffs, Red yore nice new leather cuffs. 
 They look a lot like the cuffs I asked Old Salt to get for 
 me an he told you to get instead." 
 
212 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 "Shore they re the same cuffs, Tim," Red affirmed 
 heartily. " I like em so well I m gonna keep em myself. 
 I know you won t mind." 
 
 " Me mind ! Oh, no ! Which I got a nature like a 
 suckin calf, I m that gentle. An my green handker 
 chief! What yuh done with that?" 
 
 " I got that too," Red admitted in a sorrowful tone. 
 
 " I know yuh have, you skinny scoundrel ! I had my 
 mouth all set an waterin for a green handkerchief, an , 
 when I heard about you gettin all gormed up in yore 
 battle with the 88, I pranced down to Farewell to get my 
 own stuff. An it ain t to be got. They ain t a green 
 handkerchief within four hundred miles, an the cuffs 
 was all sold out, too. An you got the nerve to come back 
 here an look me in the eye after glommin my clo es. 
 Look at him, gents. He thinks it s a joke." 
 
 "Well, an ain t it?" defended Red warmly. "The 
 drinks are all on Tim. I ll leave it to anybody. Besides, 
 leather cuffs an green handkerchiefs are vain. Next Tim 
 will wanna be wearin them ruffle-cum-tuffle jiggers on 
 his shirts an tyin pink ribbons round his li l ears all same 
 female woman. Didn t you get a letter from me, Tim, 
 with yore money in it?" 
 
 "No, I didn t, but " 
 
 " Then that s all right, cause I didn t send no letter. 
 So I ll give yuh yore coin when I get through eatin . 
 When s the coffee comin , anyway? " 
 
 It came at that instant in a large pot borne by Jimmie 
 the cook. 
 
 " Yuh might know Red was back," grinned Jimmie. 
 " Soon as I seen the Kid run out holdin his eye an 
 rarin an swearin , I knowed our Reddy had come home. 
 An how is the li l feller? An has he been a good boy 
 while he was away from papa? Look out, you fool! 
 Leggomyleg! Djuh wanna spill the coffee? You won t 
 never stop bein a id jit, Red, will yuh? Serve yuh right 
 
The Bar S 213 
 
 if I d poured the coffee down yore neck and burnt yuh 
 good. Look how nice brother s behavin . He s got 
 manners, he has." 
 
 "An why wouldn t he? He never lived with you 
 fellers like I have. Hell s bells, it s a wonder to me 
 I m still a human bein . Good thing I ain t here no more. 
 Gimme another year o the Bar S, an I d be gettin weak- 
 minded like you, Jimmy, or always on the prod like Tim 
 Page over nothin . Lordy, it shore makes me shiver 
 when I think what a narrow escape I had. Is that a 
 piece o ham yonder? It looks like ham. It cuts like 
 ham. An it tastes like ham. What could be fairer than 
 that?" 
 
 " Give him the plate, Dave," said Jimmy resignedly, 
 " so s he can scrape it. They s a li l piece o lean in one 
 corner an a small piece o fat in another, an I d hate 
 for him to miss em. He might think he hadn t had a 
 good time if he hadn t ate everythin in sight." 
 
 " He eats like that Hollister gent," said Sam. 
 
 "He eats faster," modified Heckling critically, "but 
 Hollister opened his mouth wider. Hold more, too, Hol 
 lister could." 
 
 " Hollister," repeated Red when he had gulped a 
 mouthful. " Was he a skinny gent, Hock, with wide 
 shoulders an small feet ? Don t smile much." 
 
 " He didn t smile none while he was here," said Hock- 
 ling. " He stayed all night." 
 
 "When was he here?" 
 
 " Last Monday." 
 
 " D he say where he was goin ? " 
 
 " He didn t say, but he rode away south. Why ? Is 
 he wanted? " 
 
 " Not that I know of. Only he seems to a got the 
 habit of eatin where I do, an I was wonderin . He s a 
 association detective likely. They re always roamin 
 round." 
 
214 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " But they ain t no rustlin goin on here," objected the 
 Kid. " Maybe he s one o them road agents." 
 
 " Every time the Kid sees a stranger," jeered Dave 
 Cantrell, " he thinks he sees a road agent an goes to 
 loosenin his six-shooter." 
 
 " He s been tryin to organize a Vigilance Committee 
 for a month," supplemented Buff Warren. " But so far 
 him an the Twin are the only members. They re shore 
 bloodthirsty, both of em." 
 
 " Maybe they re right, at that," said Red judicially. 
 " I ve done read some ers where children are supposed 
 to have more sense than regular folks." 
 
 " Is that so ? " both children cried in unison. " Is that 
 so ? You wait You old gran pops think yo re so smart. 
 You just wait. We ll have us a road agent, maybe a 
 couple, while yo re twiddlin yore fat thumbs." 
 
 After breakfast Red went to the bunkhouse and packed 
 his few belongings in his saddle pockets and cantinas. 
 Carrying his warbags, he went to the office for his pay. 
 
 Mr. Saltoun was sitting at the desk. Tom Loudon 
 was sitting upon it. There was no rancor in the latter s 
 greeting, but the former eyed Red grumpily. 
 
 " Yo re a dandy," said Mr. Saltoun. " I told you to 
 let that 88 bunch alone, an now we got all the makin s 
 of a fine an healthy cattle war on our hands." 
 
 " You let my brother Tom alone," grinned Red, " an 
 he ll kill em all off for yuh. I ll be glad to help myself, 
 if that ll do yuh any good." 
 
 " Helpin yoreself always was yore strong play, in the 
 grub line anyway," grunted Mr. Saltoun, purposely mis 
 taking Red s meaning. " I s pose yuh want yore time." 
 
 " Me ? No-o, not for a minute. What do I care for 
 money ? Bag o shells, thassall it is, like I heard a actress 
 lady say once." 
 
 " I m laughin ," Mr. Saltoun said with deep sarcasm. 
 " I m laughin fit to split. Tom, will yuh draw this gent s 
 
The Bar S 215 
 
 check before I choke? My Lord, Red, the trouble you 
 unthinkin punchers fall into is amazin . How a man 
 can make money out o cows, I don t see. Drought, the 
 itch an blizzards, an , if it ain t them, it s a cattle war. 
 An everythin dear as the devil. Red, that infernal 
 Piney Jackson sent in a bill for that buckboard as long 
 as my arm." 
 
 " Piney Jackson, o course! " exclaimed Red. " Now 
 why didn t I think o that before? " 
 
 " I wish you had, then maybe you d a tied that buck- 
 board some ers else instead o right in front o that stam- 
 pedin stage." 
 
 " I don t mean that. But Piney Now, you an 
 him was in the army together, wasn t you? " 
 
 " We went through the Sioux Campaign o 68 69 
 together. I was scout for Forsyth, an he was a black 
 smith." 
 
 " Was yuh ever at Fort Rackham, Idaho? " 
 
 " I wasn t. But Piney was there in the fall of 70 
 six months before his time was out. He like to froze 
 more n once. To hear him tell it yuh d think that winter 
 was hard just on his account." 
 
 " Was the Third Cavalry at Rackham then? " 
 
 " Shore. Piney was transferred to the Third. Didn t 
 I say so?" 
 
 " Not till now. It don t matter. Piney Jackson ! O 
 course, I d a thought of him later, but it might a been 
 too late then. Good thing I dropped in to-day. I was 
 born lucky, I guess." 
 
 " You was born crazy, more like," Mr. Saltoun de 
 clared with conviction. " What s all this about Piney 
 Jackson? What yuh talkin about, anyway? You ain t 
 drunk. It s too early in the mornin for that. Whatsa 
 matter with yuh, Red, huh ? " 
 
 " Nemmine whatsa matter with me," grinned Red. 
 " It s a secret. I got troubles of my own, I have, an 
 
2 1 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 they re botherin me plenty like rheumatics in gran pop s 
 left leg. Sometimes I just dunno what I m gonna do. 
 Nawsir, I don t. Blot that check plumb good after she s 
 signed, will yuh, Salt? Yo re writin s so bad they s no 
 sense in makin it worse." 
 
 Red and Tom were miles on their way to Farewell 
 when Mr. Saltoun made the unwelcome discovery that 
 Telescope Laguerre had not returned. 
 
 " He stayed at that nester s place when the rest o yuh 
 left, didn t he?" he said to his son-in-law. " An that 
 no-account good-for-nothin -a-tall Red Kane was there 
 too, wasn t he? Well, then he s gone an got Telescope 
 into some devilment, that s what. Aw, you can t tell me 
 nothin about Red Kane. When you first told me about 
 Telescope s stayin behind, Tom, I had a slinkin idea they 
 was a badger in the hole some ers, an now I know it. 
 Can t you do nothin besides laugh, Tom? Telescope s 
 
 the best man in the outfit since Red s gone, the 
 
 - luck ! " 
 
 At nightfall Red and Tom were sitting amid boulders 
 at the mouth of a small draw north of Indian Ridge. 
 From where they sat they could see the lights of Fare 
 well a-glint across the wide flat. 
 
 " Telescope oughta be here soon," muttered Red. 
 
 Tom nodded. It was too hot to talk. There was no 
 breeze stirring. The sun had gone down a flaming red 
 disk. The indications were all for a burning hot day on 
 the morrow. 
 
 Red ran a slow finger round the inside of the loosened 
 collar of his shirt and pulled the damp flannel away from 
 his perspiring skin. He took off his neck-handkerchief 
 and fanned his hot face with it. The said neck-handker 
 chief was a cheap and utterly chaste blue bandana which 
 had taken the place of the green silk sequestered by Miss 
 Lenton. 
 . Red did not like the blue bandana. It may be said that 
 
The Bar S 217 
 
 he loathed it with a great loathing. For he was a finicky 
 individual in some respects, and cotton cloth was not his 
 idea of a fitting neck covering. Green silk now But 
 there was to be no more green silk ever again. Red re- 
 knotted the bandana and settled his shoulders against a 
 ooulder. He straightened quickly, for the rock still 
 retained much of the sun s heat. 
 
 " Burn yoreself ? " chuckled Tom, who had done that 
 very thing in the same manner a moment before. 
 
 " Burn myself? " queried Red. " Now why should I 
 burn myself on this nice cool rock. Yo re talkin foolish, 
 man." 
 
 Tom made no retort. Instead he inclined his head as 
 one who listens to sounds afar off. 
 
 " Telescope comin ," said Tom. 
 
 "Then Telescope s ridin more n one hoss," ampli 
 fied Red, listening in his turn. " Le s get back a ways. 
 They s some tamaracks behind these boulders." 
 
 Leading their horses, they withdrew to the shelter of 
 the tamaracks. Here, among the sticky tree trunks, they 
 waited and watched. Their fingers gripped the noses of 
 their horses. For, be it known, the horse is a friendly 
 animal and will call to his kind upon all occasions. 
 
 " Don t sound like they re comin from Farewell/ haz 
 arded Tom. 
 
 " They ain t," declared Red. " More out o the north 
 west." 
 
 " They re headin to pass right near them boulders 
 where we was a-settin . Whadda you guess ? " 
 
 "Yeah four of em." 
 
 The approaching horsemen were riding at a slow trot. 
 The moon was still three hours under the horizon, but the 
 starlight was bright enough to reveal the dim shapes of 
 four riders as they passed in single file the boulder-strewn 
 mouth of the draw. 
 
 The leading horse stumbled as a stone rolled under an 
 
2 1 8 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 incautiously placed forefoot. His rider jerked him up 
 and called him names. His tone was not excessively 
 loud. But Red and his brother heard him distinctly. 
 They were not twenty yards distant. 
 
 The four shadowy horsemen, holding religiously to 
 their unhurried gait, disappeared in the darkness. The 
 patter of the hoofbeats dwindled and died away to the 
 southeast. 
 
 " Sounded like Hollister s voice, kind of," said Tom, 
 dropping his restraining hand from the nose of his horse. 
 
 " Kind of ! It was Hollister. I ve heard him talk 
 three-four times. He seems to have found friends. I 
 wonder what his business is, anyway ? " 
 
 " Yo re gettin as suspicious as the Kid an the Kid s 
 Twin. Ain t we packin enough trouble without worryin 
 about Hollister? He ain t done nothin to us. Leave 
 him be. We got a man s-size job to fuss with, feller; so 
 le s wrastle it." 
 
 " But he headed south from the Bar S, an now here he 
 is away north of the Bar S an headin southeast." 
 
 " She s a free country. It s nothin against a man if 
 he rides the range, I guess. He may have regular busi 
 ness. Yuh dunno." 
 
 " He may have, an then again he may not. All right, 
 all right, have it yore own way, Tom. Hollister s a tin 
 he-saint with li l gold eye-winkers if you say so. Any- 
 thin for peace an quiet. She s too hot to argue." 
 
 " Then don t argue." 
 
 " I ain t. Ain t I said I ain t? Hell s bells, three of 
 em in a row ! I said I d try an do better, an I clean for 
 got. Hell s bells, I dunno Lordy, it s harder n I 
 thought." 
 
 Red rubbed a worried forehead and kicked a tree trunk. 
 
 " Three of em in a row, " repeated the mystified 
 Tom. " What yuh talkin about? What yuh gonna try 
 an do better? What s harder n you thought? If yuh 
 
The Bar S 219 
 
 mean yore face yo re out o luck. She s always been that 
 way, an it gets harder the older yuh grow." 
 
 " Tom," said Red solemnly, " why do yuh say them 
 things ? " 
 
 "Them things what? I ain t said nothin about no 
 things. What things yuh mean ? " 
 
 " I mean them, not things. Don t yuh see? " 
 
 " Not for a minute I don t. What part of the head is 
 the pain in? Maybe you better lie down a spell. Le s 
 go sit down anyway back where we was. Maybe it ll 
 pass off." 
 
 " You don t understand," persisted Red, following Tom 
 among the boulders. " I mean you n me are plumb ig 
 norant. We ain t haven t got no education." 
 
 "Is that all?" said Tom comfortably, dropping full 
 length on a patch of grass. " Is that what s makin you 
 talk so funny? I thought you was sick or somethin . 
 Shore, we got education. Can t we read an write, huh? 
 An rigger riggers too. What more education do we 
 need n that, I d like to know ? Education ! You talk like 
 yo re loco, Red." 
 
 " An they s somethin else," pursued Red, hot upon 
 his subject. " We cuss an swear alia time. We don t 
 open our mouths but what we cuss high, wide an fre 
 quent. That ain t no way to do, Tom. Ain t you got 
 no decency? " 
 
 " Plenty. I got so much it hurts like a cramp. Yo re 
 lettin that girl honey-fuggle yuh, Red. She s been 
 a-talkin to yuh. I can see that as plain as the W G R 
 brand, an that takes up the whole side of a cow. When 
 yuh gonna quit smokin an drinkin an all? This here 
 love business is shore the devil ! " 
 
 " Yeah, oh, yeah, shore an y bet yuh," sneered Red. 
 " Yuh know yo re a-talkin thisaway alia time cause no 
 woman would look at yuh, yuh frazzled end of a misspent 
 life. Yo re jealous, that s whatsa matter." 
 
22O . Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Jealous ? Jealous ? " Tom cackled scornfully. 
 "Jealous of you? Don t make me laugh! Which I d 
 as soon be jealous o one o my mules. Sooner, come to 
 think. You can teach a mule somethin . Couldn t teach 
 you nothin in forty years." 
 
 " If you was the teacher, it would shore take longer n 
 that. Yessir, Tom, yo re a low-down miserable worm. 
 Yo re so lowdown an so miserable you ain t even fit for 
 bait, an the funny part is you dunno it. Yo re satisfied to 
 be a worm with nothin in sight when yuh git old an 
 skinny but false teeth and rheumatics. No li l home an a 
 wife for Tom Kane. Nawsir, he d rather be a worm an 
 slime round with the other reptyles." 
 
 " You bet he would ! " cried the thoroughly provoked 
 Tom. " He ain t no fool, whatever else he is, you can 
 gamble on that ! But you go on an get married an have 
 yore wife an yore home if yuh wanna. Go to yore finish 
 any way yuh like. I ain t sayin a word, not a word. I 
 guess maybe I got somethin to do, besides lookout yore 
 game, old settler. Quit that now. Don t yuh heave no 
 more pebbles, or I ll " 
 
 " W at ees de mattair?" interrupted a disapproving 
 voice at their backs. " You was mak a noise so I was 
 hear you way off yonder, un you was not hear me w en 
 I ride een un tie my pony een de tamarack. You have 
 de shut ear, by gar." 
 
 " Tom s always gettin loud, Telescope," said Red as 
 the half-breed noiselessly slid up and squatted down be 
 tween them. " Yuh know how his tongue works when 
 he s excited over anythin . He s gotta tell the neigh 
 bors all about it too. I spoke to him several times, 
 but " 
 
 " Aw, shut up, Red. Le s hear what Telescope s got 
 to say." 
 
 " Jake ees steel at Cutter," said Telescope, " un dem 
 tree strangair dey hang roun de jail all tam. Kansas 
 
The Bar S 221 
 
 Casey stay wit dem, bien sur. Dey are not many pony 
 tie to de heetchin -rail aw, ten, mabbeso." 
 
 Red looked eastward. 
 
 " The moon won t rise for three hours," he said. 
 " Let s go." 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
 
 THE CALABOOSE 
 
 THEY mounted and fetched a wide semicircle about 
 Farewell. Approaching the town from the west, they 
 proceeded with great caution to the rear of Tom Kane s 
 corral. Here they dismounted, and Tom Kane brought 
 Jack Owens saddle from the house and cinched it on his 
 toughest animal, a wise strawberry-roan with a hammer 
 head. 
 
 " I hope Bill Lainey won t come pilin over for a last 
 look before turnin in," whispered Tom, tucking in the 
 loose end of the cinch strap. 
 
 " It d be just like him," returned Red. " You d oughta 
 got Mike Flynn to look after yore hosses. He s always 
 busy in the evenin ." 
 
 Some one turned the corner of Tom Kane s house and 
 came toward the corral. The footsteps were shufflingly 
 heavy. The man s breathing was as heavy as his walk. 
 They heard him say aloud in wheezing tones : 
 
 " I know I closed the gate. I know I did." 
 
 Tom and Telescope froze to their horses heads. Red, 
 nearest to the partly closed gate, tiptoed across the corral 
 toward it. He made no attempt to lift the lever hanging 
 by its yard-long wire. Instead, he crouched beside the 
 gate and waited, one doubled fist resting knuckles down 
 upon the ground. 
 
 " I hate to do it," he thought. " I shore do, but " 
 
 The man stopped at the gate and, standing a little side- 
 wise, put his hand upon the top crossbar. Red Kane 
 
The Calaboose 223 
 
 straightened his long body with a jerk and drove his hard 
 fist accurately home beneath the man s left ear. The 
 man dropped like a mauled steer and lay spread-eagled, 
 his face to the sky and his feet in a cluster of bitterweed. 
 
 " Bill Lainey, shore," whispered Red in answer to his 
 brother s low-voiced question. " He ll be out for ten 
 minutes. We gotta gag him. This stick ll do. Naw, 
 not yore handkerchief, Tom. They could trace that. 
 Take his. Ease him over so s we can get his suspenders 
 off. They ll do to tie his feet with. Lordy, ain t he a 
 fat lummox ! . . . Huh ? Haf ta rip his sleeves out. Shore, 
 tear em in two, an they ll be long enough to tie his hands 
 together. Here, lemme do it, butter-fingers ! " 
 
 " Butter-fingers yoreself ! " snarled Tom. " I m doin 
 this. Get that cayuse out. Want me to do everythin ? " 
 
 Red, having attained his object, snickered and crossed 
 to the strawberry-roan. He led the horse through the 
 gate, round the corner of the corral and ranged him with 
 the other three animals at the rear. 
 
 Red returned to the corral and looked up at the inverted 
 bowl of the star-speckled sky. Then he lowered his gaze 
 to where the black mass of Farewell s buildings cut jag- 
 gedly across one side of the bowl. 
 
 The town was quiet too quiet. It was early in the 
 evening, barely nine by the clock, yet sounds of roistering 
 were few. At the least voices of three or four merry rev 
 elers should have been audible, but at that moment Gallo 
 way, the bibulous father of Sam Brown Galloway, was the 
 sole individual moved to sing. He was no more than half 
 drunk either, for he was singing the " Little Brown 
 Jug." Blind drunk he either sang hymns or prayed in 
 a loud voice. 
 
 Red Kane would have been better pleased to hear a 
 hymn tune, for the singer seemed to be drawing near. 
 He was coming through the narrow space between the 
 blacksmith shop and Piney Jackson s house. 
 
224 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " The rose is red, 
 My nose is, too. 
 The violet s blue, 
 An " 
 
 Thud! The singer had undoubtedly tripped and fallen 
 upon his face. He got to his feet, calling upon his Maker, 
 and proceeded at half speed. It is to be supposed that 
 his course was erratic. Red heard him bump the corner 
 of the blacksmith shop and a minute later fall over Piney 
 Jackson s wheelbarrow which stood to the left some 
 twenty yards. 
 
 In spite of the seriousness of the situation Red chuck 
 led; then he went instantly cold with apprehension, for 
 Galloway was without doubt fighting the wheelbarrow. 
 It was one of Piney s valued possessions. The black 
 smith might be at home. He might come out. He might 
 investigate. And Piney Jackson could not be handled as 
 easily as Bill Lainey. It was borne in upon Red that 
 Galloway must be abolished. 
 
 He slid round the corner of the corral and ran full tilt 
 into his brother Tom. The latter grunted, gasped and 
 sat down, holding his stomach with both hands. 
 
 " Ah Ow," groaned Tom, rocking his body. 
 " Knock-wind ow-wow-out-o -mum-me." 
 
 The unsympathetic Red did not halt. He continued 
 on his groping way toward the spot where feet stamped 
 and wood was splintering. Lord, if Piney should come 
 upon the scene ! 
 
 Smash! Crash! Galloway lifted the wheelbarrow 
 aloft and brought it down hard upon the ground. 
 
 " There, " began Galloway viciously. 
 
 That was as far as he went with that sentence, for the 
 barrel of Red Kane s six-shooter smote him across the 
 top of his flat-roofed skull, and he fell senseless upon the 
 wreck of the wheelbarrow. 
 
The Calaboose 225 
 
 " Who s there ? " demanded a woman s voice from a 
 kitchen window of Piney s house. 
 
 Red thanked Heaven that it was not the blacksmith 
 making inquiries and oozed backward softly as a cat. 
 
 "Who s there?" 
 
 The woman s tone was more insistent. Also her voice 
 was louder. Red turned and fled on tiptoe as Mrs. Jack 
 son reiterated her request for information. 
 
 At the corner of the corral he found his brother stand 
 ing up and in a very bad temper. 
 
 " Helluva note ! " Tom said in his ear. " My stom 
 ach won t be right for a week. Why n t yuh look where 
 yo re goin stead o bullin along hell-bent and knockin 
 folks silly? I ve a good mind Whajja wake Mis 
 Jackson up for, yuh numskull? She ll yell a week now. 
 I s pose you thought yuh d make my job easier, didn t 
 yuh?" 
 
 "I couldn t help it if Galloway was drunk, could I? 
 He d a fell over Bill Lainey before we could move him 
 if I hadn t bent a gun on his head. There, she s stopped 
 a-squallin an closed the window. We gotta move, Tom. 
 Y all right now?" 
 
 " Oh, shore. I feel fine. Wait till all this here s over, 
 I ll make yuh sweat for what I ve gone through. My 
 own barn too. Lookit here, Red, the more I think o 
 this the less I like it. S pose now the town goes up. 
 Everythin s dry as a covered bridge. An Kennedy s 
 barn ll catch. S pose " 
 
 " They ain t no s posin ," declared Red as fiercely as 
 whispering would permit. " We gotta do it my way. 
 She s the only wagon-track out, Tom. Ain t I thought it 
 all out careful? We gotta do it, I tell yuh. We gotta. 
 The town won t catch. They s a li l breeze, an she s east. 
 Kennedy s barn won t go. They ll save her if they work 
 hard. If his barn does go, it can t be helped, an he s out 
 o luck, thassall." 
 
226 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Aw right, aw right," said Tom. " Lookit now, you 
 leave my hoss under the cutbank by the spruce like we said 
 under the bank, yuh hear, where they won t be no dan 
 ger o folks seein him in the light." 
 
 " Shore, shore, an don t wait for me in them tamaracks 
 more n a hour. If I ain t there by then, ride into town. 
 But I ll be there. Here Hey! wait a shake, Tom. 
 Where s the ax? You done forgot to get me it." 
 
 Tom swore under his breath and started toward the 
 house. In two minutes he was back. 
 
 " Here," he whispered, thrusting the handle of the ax 
 into Red s hand. " We d ought to cut down Telescope s 
 time. We don t want to wait too long, an we ve been 
 held back a lot already." 
 
 " Can t be did. He s gotta have the full ten minutes. 
 He can t just get in town an then have things start a- 
 poppin . She wouldn t look natural, nawsir." 
 
 " Aw right. You know it all. Have it yore own way. 
 Ten minutes ! Don t talk to me ! Shut up ! In ten min 
 utes by countin I scratch that match." 
 
 Tom melted into the darkness. Red waited till he heard 
 the gentle creak of an opening barn door; then he went 
 along the corral stockade till he came to where Telescope 
 stood with the four horses. 
 
 " All ready, Telescope," he whispered. " Let s go." 
 
 Telescope and his mount vanished like smoke. Red 
 cocked an ear toward the Jackson residence. Hearing no 
 sound, he led the three remaining horses rapidly to his 
 left front till he came to the cutbank above which grew 
 a lone spruce tree. Here, below the cutbank, he tied 
 Tom s horse to a naked root. At the top of the bank, two 
 bridles in the crook of his arm, he paused to listen. 
 
 Tuckety-tuck, tuckety-tuck. A horseman was riding 
 up Main Street. The hoofbeats stilled in the neighbor 
 hood of the Happy Heart Saloon. 
 
 "Telescope," murmured Red, and started onward hast- 
 
The Calaboose 227 
 
 ily but not so hastily as he began to move when some 
 forty-five seconds later a woman s wild shriek tore the 
 silence into shreds. The shriek was followed by others 
 no less wild. 
 
 The shrieks came from the direction of the Jackson 
 residence. Red guessed and, as he discovered later, 
 guessed correctly that Mrs. Jackson, on her way to 
 investigate the cause of the disturbance that had broken 
 her early slumber, had stumbled upon the body of the 
 senseless Galloway. 
 
 Red, abandoning caution so far as moving silently was 
 concerned, boarded his mount and rammed home the 
 spurs. Behind a tree-checkered fold in the landscape di 
 rectly in rear of the Farewell jail he dragged his horse to 
 a halt. Encumbered as he was by the heavy ax, Red, 
 because the strawberry-roan he was leading did not stop 
 on the dot, narrowly escaped a trampling. 
 
 He made fast the two horses to the trunks of separate 
 cedars and scuttled through the scattering trees up and 
 over the rising ground. As he topped the crest, came a 
 sparkle of light on his right hand. A flicker, a flare, a 
 flame that leaped, and the barn of Tom Kane was ablaze. 
 
 " Two minutes ahead of time ! " panted Red resentfully 
 and ran a trifle faster. 
 
 It was a long two hundred yards from where the horses 
 were tied to the jail, but Red s time for three-quarters of 
 the distance would not have disgraced a trained and fit 
 track man. 
 
 Forty yards from the jail, in a discouraged growth of 
 scraggly bushes, Red stopped. There was a lighted win 
 dow in the rear room of the jail. Red fingered the broad 
 back of the ax-head and waited, his eyes on the lighted 
 window. A long rectangle to the right of the shorter 
 one suddenly sprang into bright relief. Some one had 
 opened the door. 
 
 The some one stood in the doorway. The some one 
 
228 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 was Kansas Casey. Behind Kansas Casey were other 
 men. Red could not be certain of their number. The 
 lights and shadows were baffling. 
 
 All up and down Main Street folk were uttering hearty 
 bawls of " Fire ! " that quite drowned the screams of Mrs. 
 Jackson. 
 
 The barn was burning finely now. The flames fed on 
 the dry logs and shakes as on match-wood. They 
 whipped up the end wall and snapped across the roof in 
 bursts of vivid orange that crackled and coughed and 
 tossed on high their showers of sparks. 
 
 A little breeze was blowing the sparks away from the 
 town, but toward Kennedy s barn. Red sincerely hoped 
 that Kennedy wouldn t lose his barn. He had no desire 
 to pay Kennedy as well as Tom. 
 
 " Dees way ! Dees way ! We gotta save de barn ! " 
 
 Red recognized in the stentorian shout the voice of 
 Telescope Laguerre. The half-breed was doing his part 
 exactly by the book. 
 
 Against the light of the flames Red saw the figures of 
 running men. The men called and shouted one to an 
 other, but ever above their cries sounded the thundering 
 bellow of Telescope Laguerre, urging, exhorting, advis 
 ing, whooping on the fire-fighters. 
 
 It was then that Kansas Casey left his post on the door- 
 sill of the calaboose and hurried toward the fire. One of 
 the men who had stood at his back in the doorway fol 
 lowed. The other two Red could see now that they 
 were but two, and these two were Billy Bruff and Tom 
 Lumley stepped outside and stood with thumbs tucked 
 behind their belts, gazing at the blaze. 
 
 There was nothing to be gained by waiting longer. 
 Red gripped the ax and slid obliquely through the bushes 
 toward the rear of the two observers. 
 
 Nothing is quite so engrossing as a conflagration. Or 
 dinarily wide-awake, hard-headed citizens of the world 
 
The Calaboose 229 
 
 become oblivious to everything but the fascinating flames 
 when watching a fire. So it was with Mr. Lumley and 
 Mr. Bruff. They had not the slightest idea that any one 
 wishing them evil was in their vicinity till a pleasant voice 
 behind them said : 
 
 " Reach up an grab yore ears." 
 
 Mr. Lumley and Mr. Bruff came alive on the jump. 
 They reached up and seized the lobes of their ears 
 seized them with enthusiasm as if they feared the valued 
 organs were on the point of departure. 
 
 " Le s slide into the jail now," continued the voice, 
 " an le s be gentle about it. Le s, not have no pullin 
 at no guns. Mister Lumley will go first. No, wait till 
 I give the word. When Mister Lumley crosses the sill, 
 he will throw up his hands just as high as he can reach. 
 Mister Bruff will do the same. Start, an don t hurry." 
 
 Mr. Lumley and Mr. Bruff entered the lamplit room 
 with careful slowness. They might have been walking 
 on eggs. Under the shepherding of Red Kane they 
 shuffled across the room and aligned themselves side by 
 side against the wall. 
 
 " I d stick my hands a li l higher, Mister Lumley, if 
 I was you," suggested Mr. Kane. 
 
 The Rock County sheriff reached frantically toward 
 the ceiling. Red Kane, although his captives could not 
 see him, nodded approvingly. 
 
 " Keep a-doin that an you ll be all right," he drawled. 
 " Charmin Billy with the whiskers will now oblige the 
 audience by takin off his belt an droppin it on the floor 
 all without malice aforethought an reachin for his 
 artillery. You hear me, William ? " 
 
 William obeyed nervously. Belt and gun dropped to 
 the floor with a swish and a thump. William shot his 
 hands aloft without being told. 
 
 " Now, Thomas, do like Charmin Billy done," said 
 Mr. Kane quietly no one could have guessed from his 
 
230 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 manner and speech that he stood in peril of his life. 
 " That s right, Thomas. Up with them paws, Thomas. 
 Don t try to gamble with me, Thomas. You ll only try, 
 thassall. If at first you don t succeed, try, try again , 
 is one fine rule, old-timer, but it won t work against my 
 six-shooter. I will now pick up yore belts an guns. 
 Don t move. I can get em. Don t turn round. Keep 
 them noses flat against the wall. If they s splinters in 
 the wood, yo re out o luck. Have yuh got the key to 
 the calaboose door, Thomas ? " 
 
 " No," growled Thomas. 
 
 " Next, Charmin Billy," pursued the good-natured 
 voice. 
 
 " I ain t got it, you ! " snapped Charming 
 
 Billy. 
 
 " Such language," said Red reprovingly. You must 
 think yo re at home, Charmin Billy. I s pose now Kan 
 sas has the key both keys, inside and outside, huh ?, 
 He has? I thought that would be the way of it; so I 
 brought a key with me. Charmin Billy, step back three 
 steps without turnin round." 
 
 Charming Billy complied with the request. Red Kane 
 tossed the ax past him against the wall. 
 
 " They s the key I brought," he continued. " Pick her 
 up an smash the lock." 
 
 Billy Bruff went at the task with vim. He smashed 
 lock and bolt and nosing with three heavy blows and 
 crashed the door wide open. Like a jack-in-the-box Ben 
 Lenton appeared in the doorway. 
 
 " Don t turn round ! " Red Kane reminded Billy Bruff. 
 " Drop that ax an flip up them hands. Now get back 
 alongside yore friend. Ben, would you mind lookin in 
 the drawer o that table an roustin out a couple o pair 
 of handcuffs? Jake keeps em there, or he used to." 
 
 Ben Lenton jerked the drawer open and dragged out 
 two clinking pairs of door-hinge handcuffs. 
 
 
The Calaboose 231 
 
 " Stick yore hands in back of yuh, you two," ordered 
 Red Kane. 
 
 Lumley and Bruff obeyed with exemplary meekness. 
 Ben Lenton did his duty. The captives, hands clasped 
 behind them, swayed a little on their feet. 
 
 " I know yore voice, Kane," said Lumley, " an I can 
 swear to it. So can Bruit". You needn t think just be 
 cause you won t let us turn round yo re gonna get away 
 with this." 
 
 " I never think," was the placid rejoinder. " I dunno 
 how. I leave that for bright li l fellers like you sports. 
 Ben, they s a rope yonder in the corner. I dunno but " 
 
 Here he suddenly bethought him of the figure cut by 
 Mrs. Jackson when the window fell on her neck the day 
 of the runaway stage teams. He laughed sardonically. 
 
 " Here s a better idea," he went on. " Slide over to the 
 window, you fellers. No, the side window. Lay yore 
 Adam s apples on the sill. Go n, lay em down. What- 
 cha scared of? The sill ain t sharp. That s the boy. 
 Ben, s pose now you knock out the brace that holds up 
 the sash." 
 
 Lenton had the brace in his hand in a split second. 
 The sash it was a freely running window came 
 down with a crumph-h. The snared ones kicked out like 
 bee-stung horses. 
 
 " That window moved pretty easy," observed Red, 
 eying it thoughtfully. " Guess we better wedge it 
 tight." < 
 
 So with the prisoners own pocket knives they wedged 
 the window. 
 
 " Let s go," said Red, and he picked up the ax. 
 
 They went hurriedly. Away to the left they saw, as 
 they crossed the open ground between the jail and the 
 patch of brush, the burning barn flaring redly. There 
 were shouting and noise, and men ceased not to carry 
 and pour buckets of water. 
 
232 Lvnch Lawyers 
 
 Once past the edge of the brush the posts of the Happy 
 Heart corral would be between them and the fire and its 
 spectators. When they ran in among the swishing 
 bushes, a man rose up from under their feet. Red per 
 ceived just in time that it was his brother Tom. 
 
 " Next time holler ! " he exclaimed with irritation, 
 sheathing his Colt. " You might a got plugged." 
 
 " Shut up," was the amiable return. " Keep a-goin , 
 keep a-goin ! " 
 
 They arrived among the horses somewhat blown as to 
 the lungs and shaky as to the legs. 
 
 " Lookit here," began Lenton, who till the present mo 
 ment had not spoken, " lookit here, gents. I can t say " 
 
 " Don t say it then," advised Red earnestly, desirous of 
 forestalling possible thanks. " They ain t no time, any 
 way. You climb on that cayuse there yeah, the one 
 with the monkey-nose taps an ride due east till yuh 
 come in sight of a bald-headed mountain with an easy- 
 slopin top. That s Triangle Mountain a-stickin up over 
 where the Fallin Horse runs into the Lazy. Keep a- 
 goin an ford the Lazy above the Fallin Horse about 
 five miles at the south end of a round-backed ridge. 
 Yo re across the Lazy now an the ridge is on yore right. 
 From there you ll see three crackin ol peaks in a row 
 like off to the southwest, an beyond em a sawtooth 
 range. Them three big peaks are the Three Sisters, an 
 the sawtooth range is the Three Sisters Range, an , when 
 you get past them three peaks in among that tangle o 
 mountains an canons, you ll be as safe as a flea on a 
 long-haired dog. You go there an stay there. They s 
 plenty deer when yuh run short o bacon " 
 
 " I put two sides in the off saddle pocket," interrupted 
 Tom. 
 
 " So yuh ll make out all right," continued Red. 
 " They s coffee, sugar an such in the cantinas an ten 
 boxes o rifle cartridges an five for yore six-shooter. 
 
The Calaboose 233 
 
 They s a six-shooter in one of the saddle pockets an a 
 Winchester tied to the saddle strings. We didn t have 
 no scabbard." 
 
 " Gents " Lenton began again. 
 
 " Wait a shake," Red pursued rapidly. " Here s a li l 
 calendar. Every tenth day in the month like the tenth, 
 twentieth, an thirtieth, see you come down in the foot 
 hills along the Fallin Horse where you can get a sight 
 o Triangle Mountain. When you see a smoke on top o 
 Triangle, you come straight home to yore shack by Sweet- 
 water, cause everythin ll be all right. Mind yuh now, 
 that smoke may not be the first tenth day, nor the second 
 nor third, an it mayn t come in the second month even, 
 but it ll come, an yuh can stick a pin in that. Naw, naw, 
 now. Don t say nothin . They ain t time. Yo re all 
 right, an yore daughter s all right, an everything gonna 
 come out all right. Nemmine how. It will. Git aboard, 
 Ben. Did yuh remember all them directions ? Aw right, 
 
 git." 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 
 
 ONE DOWN 
 
 RED and Tom dismounted among the boulders at the 
 mouth of the little draw where the tamaracks grew. Red 
 dropped the reins over his horse s nose and, lying down 
 on his back, clasped his hands behind his head and stared 
 with half-closed eyes at the stars. 
 
 " Lordy," he sighed, " this is somethin like comfort. 
 I need a rest. I ve done been a-workin my head off since 
 mornin ." 
 
 " Har, har," Tom barked in a repressed tone, " an har, 
 har once more. You need a rest ! You ve been a-workin 
 yore head off ! That s good, that is ! An what have the 
 rest of us been doin , I d like to know? " 
 
 "Oh, yuh ve done all right," Red drawled. "But, 
 Lordy, Tom, how could yuh help doin all right ? Didn t 
 I plan it out for yuh so careful a two-year-old baby 
 couldn t a made a mistake? Didn t I? Course I did. 
 Do I hear yuh say yes ? I don t hear yuh say yes/ 
 Yo re jealous again, thassall. If I had yore disagreeable 
 nature, I d go drown it some ers. Stop jabbin me in 
 the ribs, yuh Siwash ! Ouch, that quirt s got a nail in the 
 handle, an my ribs ain t iron. If you tear my shirt, I ll 
 shore clout yuh one on the snoozer. Lemme alone, will 
 yuh? I ll kick yuh good, I will. Told yuh I would. I m 
 glad it is yore funny-bone. Serves yuh right. I ll crack 
 the other one next time, an I ll bet yuh tore my shirt. If 
 I wasn t so comfortable, I d look, an if it was tore, I d 
 scalp you prompt if not sooner. What was yuh doin in 
 
One Down 235 
 
 that patch o brush, Tom ? Why didn t yuh ride straight 
 here?" 
 
 " Cause I didn t know how yuh was gonna come out 
 with them two sharps," replied the somewhat ruffled Tom, 
 rubbing a tingling elbow. " I was squattin in them 
 bushes ever since Bruff smashed the door down. I d a 
 come straight in myself only I knowed I d do better to 
 watch outside. Lordy, you was slow. What was the 
 matter with yuh anyway? Did yuh stop to make 
 speeches? Hell s bells, I was sweatin blood with my 
 eyes stickin out o my head a foot thinkin alia time some 
 investigatin jigger would sift round the corner of the 
 Happy Heart corral an I d have to down him. Did yuh 
 bring my ax ? " 
 
 " Shore, she s tied to my saddle strings. Whatcha 
 guess ? Think I d leave it behind ? " 
 
 " Be just like yuh." 
 
 " Where yuh goin ? Lay still, can t yuh? What yuh 
 wanna scout round for, huh ? " 
 
 " I gotta bury this ax. They s no sense in totin her 
 round an gettin caught with it. You don t think of 
 everythin , do yuh ? " 
 
 But Red merely laughed and rolled over on his side. 
 When Tom returned from his labor, Red sat up and 
 moved crabwise to a concave-sided boulder. Against the 
 grateful curve of the now thoroughly cooled rock he 
 eased his damp back. 
 
 " You better go to sleep, Tom," he suggested. " I ll 
 wake yuh up at one o clock. Sno use yore startin 
 before." 
 
 Within two minutes Tom was sleeping hard. 
 
 " Sounds like a sawmill," observed Red, and then, his 
 thoughts drifting to the ranch-house under Sweetwater 
 Mountain, he promptly forgot Tom and his works. 
 
 At one o clock, with the rising moon drenching the 
 face of the land with gray-green splendor, Torn was 
 
236 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 shaken awake and started off to Farewell. There was 
 nothing dead and alive about the town when he reached 
 it. Some of the inhabitants were roaming the length and 
 breadth of Main Street. Others were congregated in 
 front of the Happy Heart. Still others were grouped 
 round the doorway of Bill Lainey s hotel. Tom heard 
 the voice of Bill Lainey orating to the multitude. He 
 turned his horse s head toward the hotel. Bill Lainey and 
 his cluster of listeners did not perceive Tom s approach 
 till he stopped his horse at the edge of the sidewalk and 
 called 
 
 " Lo, Bill. What s up?" 
 
 " Here s Tom now ! " cried Daly, and every individual 
 member of the group whirled to face the street. 
 
 " Yore barn s burned down ! " supplied Piggy Wads- 
 worth. 
 
 "Yore strawberry roan s stole!" was the wheezing 
 contribution of Bill Lainey. 
 
 " Huh ? " grunted Tom unbelievingly, pushing his hat 
 back and scratching his evebrows. " My barn burned ! 
 My roan rustled! What yuh talkin about? " 
 
 They enlightened him with circumstance and detail. 
 Collectively they offered to show him the ruins of the 
 barn. 
 
 "If she s burned down, they s no use lookin at it now," 
 he said practically. " Yuh say somebody hit yuh, Bill, 
 when yuh was comin across to take a last look at the 
 corral gate ? " 
 
 "Somebody!" Bill exclaimed. "Somebody! You d 
 say so! They was six of em if they was one, an they 
 all jumped me together! An I fit an they fit, but I 
 didn t have no gun, an all I could do was knock down 
 three of em. Then one of the others hit me under the 
 ear with a neck-yoke an I didn t remember no thin after 
 that till I come to on my dinin -room table with Lize 
 a-burnin feathers under my nose an like to strangled 
 
One Down 237 
 
 me. My jaw s all swole up, an I can t open my mouth 
 only just so far." 
 
 " Six of em six rustlers," Tom said slowly. 
 
 " Six anyway," Bill Lainey insisted. " Maybe seven. 
 But I m shore o six cause I counted em. An they was 
 hellions! Galloway, bein half-drunk, drifted into em 
 by mistake, an they like to beat him to death with Piney 
 Jackson s wheelbarrow. Mrs. Jackson she heard em, 
 but she thought maybe it was just a drunkard or two 
 amusin themselves till she come out an fell over Gal 
 loway s legs. A wheelbarrow! The gent that can use 
 a wheelbarrow for a club is strong as a hoss. If they 
 was all like that one, I ain t surprised I couldn t lick the 
 bunch. Well, three out of eight ain t bad." 
 
 " Eight," Daly nipped in. " I thought you said seven." 
 
 " He said six first," averred Piney Jackson. 
 
 " Six or seven or eight, she s alia same," Bill declared 
 with lofty dignity. " I didn t have no time to keep tally 
 o the whole outfit. But they was six I seen, an I guess 
 they was more they must V been to make that Colo 
 rado sheriff an his deputy lay down an anyhow I 
 licked three of em good. Knocked em flat, so I did." 
 
 " Colorado sheriff, " repeated Tom. "What s he 
 gotta do with it?" 
 
 A silence fell upon the multitude. Its component parts 
 looked all ways save at the man on the pony. Tom Kane 
 stared, wrinkling a puzzled forehead. 
 
 " Whatsa matter? " he asked finally. 
 
 "Well," Daly offered hesitatingly, "they say, them 
 Colorado gents do, that they was held up by several men, 
 an the prisoner took away. I dunno nothin about that," 
 he added carefully. " All I know is Lumley an Bruff 
 was handcuffed an their heads stuck under the window 
 sash in the back room of the calaboose an the prisoner 
 gone when Kansas Casey an Rouse got back from the 
 fire. I dunno no more n that." 
 
238 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " You sound like you was apologizin ," drawled Tom. 
 "Whaffor? Whadda I care about them Colorado 
 gents?" 
 
 " You see, Tom," said Piney Jackson, " them sharps 
 is sort o sayin yore brother Red was foreman of the 
 gang that held em up." 
 
 " They do, huh ? " Tom remarked in an ominously quiet 
 voice. " She s shore a calamity Red ain t here to speak 
 for himself. But maybe I ll do. Where are these gents ?" 
 
 " Lumley an Bruff are off with Kansas an a posse 
 after Lenton," replied Piney Jackson. " Telescope s 
 a-trailin for em. They oughta be some ers round Sweet- 
 water Mountain by now." 
 
 " Lumley an Bruff make two. Where s the Rouse 
 party ? * 
 
 " I guess maybe he s in the Happy Heart," hazarded 
 Bill Lainey. 
 
 Immediately Tom Kane dismounted, tied his pony to 
 the hotel hitching rail, pulled down his vest and started 
 on foot toward the Happy Heart. By twos and threes 
 Bill Lainey s audience followed at a distance. 
 
 Tom, expert in single combat that he was, glanced 
 through a window of the Happy Heart before entering. 
 He marked down his prey standing at the bar. The 
 prey was deep in converse with the bartender, a stage- 
 station hostler and a few representative townsmen. Mr. 
 Rouse was doing most of the talking. 
 
 Tom pushed through the doorway and headed in the 
 direction of Mr. Rouse. The bartender saw him coming 
 and sidestepped out of range. The stage-station hostler 
 was not a breath later in following the example of the 
 bartender. The representative townsmen backed their 
 various ways elsewhere. The eyes of Dune Rouse 
 widened. Then, at a touch on his shoulder, his eyelids 
 flickered twice. 
 
 He turned slowly, his hands held carefully above the 
 
One Down 239 
 
 level of the bar, and became aware that the tip of his 
 curiously twisted nose was no more than a foot distant 
 from the hardset features of Tom Kane. 
 
 The latter s quiet eyes gazed steadily into the close-set, 
 sharp little eyes of Dune Rouse. A full minute the two 
 men stared eye to eye, and then Rouse could no longer 
 endure that bleak gaze. His eyes wavered, dropped, came 
 back, swiveled right and left and then fixed themselves 
 on the left shoulder of Tom s flannel shirt. The sweat 
 stood out in tiny drops on the forehead of Dune Rouse. 
 His lips were dry. So was the roof of his mouth. His 
 tongue got furtively to work. 
 
 He was not a coward, that *s, he was not when he 
 had time to prepare himself for the issue. But Tom 
 Kane had taken him by surprise. Tom Kane had gotten 
 the jump on him and thereby shaken his balance sorely. 
 For the clean courage to go after his gun he would have 
 willingly exchanged all his worldly goods. Yet why 
 should he go after his gun? Tom Kane was doing noth 
 ing but look at him. 
 
 " What " began Dune Rouse and smiled a smile 
 that strove to be cheerful but was merely more twisted 
 than his nose. 
 
 " What s that I hear yo re sayin about my brother 
 Red?" 
 
 " Why " Dune Rouse tried again. 
 
 " Nemmine any * whys ," snarled Tom. " Spit her 
 out." 
 
 " I didn t say nothin about him," protested Dune 
 Rouse. 
 
 "You didn t, huh?" 
 
 " No, I didn t. What would I wanna say anythin 
 about him for? I dunno nothin about " 
 
 "What s Lumley an Bruff sayin about him?" Tom 
 was inexorable. 
 
 "Why" 
 
240 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Yo re always sayin why or what. Don t yuh 
 know nothin else? Can t yuh answer? Aw right, I ll 
 help yuh. I hear that them two hoss-thieves, Lumley an 
 Bruff, are sayin my brother Red held em up an busted 
 in the calaboose an let out Ben Lenton. Is that right? " 
 
 " They said so," corroborated Rouse, desperate with 
 fear and shame. 
 
 " They re a couple o liars, an so are you," Tom de 
 clared warmly. " An you don t dare draw that gun." 
 
 Dune Rouse felt a slight sensation of nausea at the pit 
 of his stomach. Being of an olive complexion, his face 
 turned a sickly green. His right arm trembled. It 
 trembled quite noticeably. But that was all it did 
 tremble. 
 
 "Where s yore nerve?" taunted Tom Kane. 
 
 The spectators held their breath some of them. 
 Others looked their scorn and contempt of the pitiable 
 creature facing Tom Kane. 
 
 The latter laughed mockingly, reached downward a 
 quick hand and jerked from its holster Rouse s six- 
 shooter. With the other hand he slapped Rouse across 
 the mouth. Dune Rouse, his lips bleeding, cringing like 
 a kicked and cowardly mongrel, shrank sidewise against 
 the bar. 
 
 Tom Kane inserted his strong long fingers between 
 Rouse s neck and neckband, yanked his head forward and 
 slapped his jaws again and again. Rouse made not the 
 slightest attempt at resistance. He acted like a man 
 hypnotized by fear. 
 
 Tom released his hold on the man s collar, stepped 
 back, set himself deliberately, and knocked Rouse flat. 
 Rouse lay all a-sprawl a moment; then he drew up his 
 knees and shielded his face with his arms as if he feared 
 another blow. 
 
 The merciless Tom swung a leg and kicked Rouse three 
 times in the ribs. 
 
One Down 241 
 
 " Get up, you yaller pup," commanded Tom. " Get on 
 yore feet before I drive yore slats in." 
 
 Thus adjured, Dune Rouse scrambled up. Before he 
 could straighten, Nemesis was upon him with fist and 
 boot. Rouse skittered over the floor, through the door 
 way, across the sidewalk, and brought up under the 
 hitching rail. 
 
 A heavy quirt hung conveniently to hand upon the 
 saddlehorn of a pony tied to the rail. Tom Kane slipped 
 the loop of the thong over his wrist, gripped the handle 
 firmly and went at Dune Rouse in earnest. 
 
 He drove the wretched man back into the saloon for 
 his saddle and bridle. These two articles lay in a corner 
 of one of the back rooms. Tom Kane indicated them by 
 the simple expedient of rubbing Rouse s face on the 
 leather. 
 
 " Pick em up," Tom ordered, drawing back his arm, 
 " an pack em out to the corral ! " 
 
 "Ow! Wow! Wow!" 
 
 The fear-stricken man broke down utterly and 
 screamed and screamed the while the quirt cut and 
 slashed his flesh unsparingly. 
 
 Stumbling, rolling, the great tears running down his 
 face, Dune Rouse dragged saddle and bridle to the corral, 
 caught up his horse although how he managed that he 
 never knew and saddled it. 
 
 " Nemmine the hind cinch ! " cried Tom Kane and 
 kicked him into the saddle. " One s good enough to hold 
 yuh on." He picked up the dragging rear cinch and cinch 
 strap and flung them across the saddle in front of the 
 reeling, weeping rider. " Now flit," he directed and 
 quirted the horse across the rump. 
 
 The animal sprang forward and galloped straight away 
 into the north. 
 
 " I guess that settles that," said Tom Kane, gazing 
 after the bowed back of the broken Mr. Rouse. " Piney, 
 
242 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 did yuh say the posse went S weetwater way, huh ? Yeah ? 
 Well, after we ve all had a drink at the Happy Heart, I 
 guess now I ll saddle me a fresh hoss an slide out that- 
 away myself. I m kind o anxious to get back that 
 strawberry roan o mine." 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 
 
 THE SHOT 
 
 " THEY swallowed it hook, bob an line," Tom said in 
 concluding his recital of what had happened at Farewell. 
 " They think maybe yo re innocent after all, an so long s 
 Jake an Kansas an Lumley don t get their legs over the 
 pole, you ll be all right. Goddlemighty, if you could a 
 heard me spadin out lies to em there in the Happy Heart 
 after I d gave Dune Rouse the bum s rush out o town! 
 They got a sneakin idea the holdups turned Lenton loose. 
 I handed them that notion between drinks, an they bit 
 like it was corn bread. Before noon, after they ve done 
 talked it over good an plenty, they ll be believin it for 
 gospel." 
 
 "I dunno as I like it," disapproved Red. "They ll 
 think Lenton is in with the road agents now." 
 
 " Let em," Tom said confidently. " They think he s 
 a murderer an a robber anyway; so what s the odds? 
 Where yuh goin , huh? " 
 
 " This here draw s shorter by two miles. I know. 
 I ve done rode her often enough. Besides, I ain t carin 
 nothin about meetin none o the Bar S crowd. Leave it 
 to li l brother, Tommy old settler. He knows." 
 
 " He s got a head like a keg, li l brother has a empty 
 keg. As I was sayin , I ll bet Telescope ll lead em on 
 one savage ride." 
 
 " As you wasn t sayin , y old goat. But I ll overlook the 
 empty keg till we get some place where I can drop a buzz- 
 bug down yore neck if yuh ll tell me some more. So Bill 
 
244 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Lainey thought me an my knuckles was six men an* a 
 neck-yoke, did he?" 
 
 " He made it eight men before he got through. By the 
 time he tells you the story, it ll be forty men an a wagon 
 tongue. How you gonna pry the truth out o Flipup, 
 Red?" 
 
 Red ignored the abrupt change of subject. He smiled 
 vacantly and rubbed an ear. 
 
 " Yeah," he drawled. " Was Bill s jaw swole much ? " 
 
 " Not so much as yores ll be if I ever land on it. You 
 heard what I said the first time. How you gonna " 
 
 " Yore cayuse has picked up a rock," interrupted Red. 
 
 " Naw, he ain t. How 
 
 "What s that up there, Tom?" Red asked excitedly, 
 pointing an agitated finger skyward. 
 
 " I d say it was the sun, but I s pose you got yore own 
 private name for it. Most id jits have, I notice. How 
 you gonna jerk the truth out o Flipup? " 
 
 " Oh, yuh wanna know that, do yuh ? Well Gimme 
 a match." 
 
 " Finish the sentence." 
 
 " Aw, yo re worse n glue for stickin to a thing. Can t 
 yuh be contented without askin fool questions an both- 
 erin yore betters an " 
 
 " How " began anew the persistent Tom. 
 
 " I dunno." Red gave it up. 
 
 " Yuh dunno. Why don t yuh ? " 
 
 " Cause I don t." 
 
 " Yuh mean to say yo re traipsin alia way to Flipup 
 an yuh dunno what yo re gonna do after yuh get there ? 
 Yo re a fine specimen, a fi-ine specimen. Where s them 
 four-ace brains you was gassin about awhile back? " 
 
 " Nemmine about them brains, feller. They ain t doin 
 no worryin , so you needn t." 
 
 " I needn t, huh? If I didn t worry I d like to know 
 where you d be." 
 
The Shot 245 
 
 Red opened his mouth to reply Cra-ack! The flat 
 report of a distant rifle smacked the windless air. 
 
 " Behind that bald-headed ridge," murmured Red. 
 
 " Left o the blue rock," determined Tom. 
 
 Now a gunshot may be entirely innocent of evil, and 
 it may not. Until the precise nature of its intent has 
 been established, it behooves the innocent bystander to 
 proceed carefully. 
 
 A brook, bordered by a thick growth of box elder 
 bushes and a marching line of cottonwoods lay between 
 the ridge and the two men. They swung toward the 
 little stream, swished through the box elders and splashed 
 across. Away to their right a narrow draw where slim 
 pines grew gashed the ridge. 
 
 They cantered to the draw, turned into it and threaded 
 their way in and out among the tree trunks. The draw 
 widened before them. The trees grew more thickly. 
 When they reached the other end of the draw, they were 
 deep in a wood of bull pine, spruce and cedar. Here was 
 no crackling brush to clog their path, and the hoof-beats 
 of the horses sounded softly on the thick covering of 
 needles that blanketed the ground. 
 
 Tom, riding a length in advance, tossed up a hand and 
 turned his pony on a dime. 
 
 " Horse tied yonder," he said in a loud whisper, jerk 
 ing his head sidewise. 
 
 Red, following the motion with his eyes, saw a black- 
 pointed bay rope-tied to a young cedar forty or fifty yards 
 beyond his horse s ears saw, too, those same ears cock 
 and the horse s head go up. Savagely he swayed back on 
 the curb and effectively dispelled the pony s intention of 
 whinnying. 
 
 " Look out yore hoss don t whinner, Tom," he warned 
 and, driving in the spurs, sent his mount to the right on 
 the jump. 
 
 His brother followed. 
 
246 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 A hundred yards away they dragged their ponies to 
 a halt. The quick-witted Red flung himself from the 
 saddle, snatched his Winchester from the scabbard under 
 the fender and thrust his reins into the hands of Tom, 
 who had been slow in dismounting. 
 
 " You hold the horses, Tom," said Red, " while I go 
 see what s happened." 
 
 Before Tom could protest, Red had departed at speed. 
 Tom burning with outrage, unstrapped his rope and tied 
 both horses to the bole of a high-branched cedar. Swear 
 ing at Red under his breath, he jerked out his own rifle 
 and, leaving the horses to whinny or not as they saw fit, 
 he ran after his vanishing brother. 
 
 He caught up with him where he had halted behind the 
 thick branches of a newly brought down windfall. The 
 bay horse was not twenty yards away. 
 
 "Ain t that Buck Savior s hoss?" whispered Red. 
 
 " Looks like it," was the snappish reply. 
 
 " It is," declared Red. " An here comes Buck." 
 
 Hurrying through the wood came the Farewell ex 
 press agent. A Winchester cuddled the hollow of his 
 bent arm. His eyes roved from side to side. There was 
 anxiety in the puckered forehead. The usually good- 
 humored face was drawn and set. 
 
 Behind the windfall Red and Tom sank down upon 
 their haunches. They knew Buck Saylor well, but they 
 had no intention of speaking to him. For at that mo 
 ment Buck did not look like a man who would give a 
 greeting welcome, and to force oneself upon the attention 
 of another engrossed in his own affairs is to commit a 
 grave breach of cow-country etiquette. Buck Saylor 
 reached his horse and jammed the rifle into its scabbard. 
 He undid the knot of the tie-rope with fingers that trem 
 bled that seemed all thumbs. Continually he glanced 
 over his shoulder, now this way, now that way. It was 
 obvious that Buck Saylor was in a state of mind. 
 
The Shot 247 
 
 He finished untying the horse, coiled the rope care 
 lessly, and hooked it over the saddlehorn. Then, swing 
 ing up into the saddle, he returned the way he had come. 
 
 The two brothers followed at a distance. An eighth 
 of a mile farther on they came to the edge of the trees. 
 Here, flanked by the easy slope of the bald-headed ridge, 
 was a pleasant, fan-shaped level, grass-covered, dimpled 
 with shallow hollows, that swept away for miles to the 
 foot of blue-green hills. A hundred yards out in the 
 open three or four cottonwoods and a rank growth of red 
 willows and box elders denoted the presence of a spring. 
 
 A thin line of pale smoke, straight as a four-sticker s 
 mainmast and half as tall pointed skyward beyond the 
 spring. At one side a hobbled horse grazed with quick, 
 regular side sweeps of a long hammer head. The ani 
 mal was so near that they could hear the tearing sound as 
 it wrenched out each mouthful of the thick grass. 
 
 Buck Saylor, halting at the spring, was partly hidden 
 by the cottonwoods. Then his horse moved forward a 
 step, and they saw that Buck was leaning over his saddle- 
 horn and looking at something on the ground. Which 
 something, whatever it was, was completely masked by 
 the red willows. 
 
 Buck Saylor continued to hold his embowed posture a 
 long minute; then he straightened slowly, wheeled his 
 horse and as slowly rode away. And rode away with 
 chin on shoulder. But there was no possibility of him 
 seeing the Kane boys. Each of them, hatless, was hug 
 ging the ground behind an individual spruce, peering with 
 a cautious eye past the bark of his ambush. 
 
 "If Buck heads toward that notch between the humpy 
 li l hill an the one with the square top, he s goin back to 
 Farewell," said Red. 
 
 " Guess that s where he s goin ," assented Tom as the 
 express agent set his horse to trotting in the direction of 
 the notch between the hills. 
 
248 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Le s go see what s in them willers? " suggested Tom 
 when the departing horseman had assumed the general 
 outline of a post mounted upon a keg, indicating that he 
 was at least distant the half of a mile. 
 
 " No," demurred Red. " Le s wait a shake till he s 
 a mile out, anyway. Somebody else may V heard that 
 shot besides us." 
 
 " Aw, say " 
 
 " Listen, feller, everythin might be all right, an then 
 again it mightn t. No sense in hurryin . Go yuh ten 
 even they s a dead gent a-layin near that smoke." 
 
 " Ten even is too good. I kind o think so myself 
 about that gent." 
 
 " Make it ten to one then. Y ain t afraid to lose one 
 small measly buck, are yuh ? " Tauntingly. 
 
 " Go yuh," Tom promptly took him up. " But yo re a 
 robber, alia same." 
 
 When Buck Saylor was a mile away, Red and his 
 brother, first lining up the cottonwoods and the willows 
 between them and the rider, walked out to the spring. 
 
 " I win," said Red, staring down at the body huddled 
 between a small campfire and a bubbling spring, the whole 
 within a horseshoe of red willows. 
 
 They knew that the man was dead before they reached 
 him. The position of the legs and arms told as much. 
 As corroborative evidence the soggy, red-stained condi 
 tion of the back of the man s vest was hardly needed. 
 There was a skillet in which a lump of beef reposed amid 
 congealing grease, held tightly by the fingers of the man s 
 right hand. Beside his left elbow, where the left hand 
 had dropped it, the contents of a spilt salt sack whitened 
 the grass. 
 
 "They say she s unlucky to spill salt," observed Tom 
 matter-of-factly, and, being thirsty, he knelt and drank at 
 the spring. 
 
 Red turned over the body of the dead man. When he 
 
The Shot 249 
 
 saw the quiet features, he sat back on his heels and whis 
 tled. Tom got up, wiping his mouth, and looked at the 
 face of the corpse. 
 
 " I wonder now," said Red, " what Buck Saylor had 
 against Pickles Dill." 
 
 " Dunno." Tom shook his head. " They wasn t 
 never exactly boom companions, but they wasn t hostyle 
 neither." 
 
 " Drilled plumb through the ticker," amplified Red. 
 " An the front of his shirt s burnt. Buck must a made 
 certain shore by shovin the Winchester almost into his 
 breast pocket." 
 
 " Pickles didn t have no chance. Funny he didn t see 
 Buck a-comin ." 
 
 " Maybe he did see Buck a-comin ." 
 
 "Huh?" 
 
 " Maybe he thought Buck was his friend an wasn t 
 expectin no such play as this." 
 
 " We ll never know, I guess. Might s well bury him." 
 
 Using the skillet and Pickles own skinning-knife as 
 shovels, they cut away the sod and scooped out a shallow 
 grave. They wrapped the body in Pickles saddle-blan 
 ket, laid it in the grave and scraped the earth over it. 
 On top of the mound they heaped a few rocks. This 
 that those ubiquitous beasties, the coyotes, might not 
 investigate. 
 
 Pickles saddle and bridle they lashed to the branch of 
 a cottonwood. Which being done, Red went out to the 
 grazing horse and took off his hobbles. 
 
 " Git, feller," he said and slapped the horse on the flank 
 with the leather circlets. 
 
 With a squeal and a two-heeled kick the animal galloped 
 away. Red, returning, came to the tiny stream filtering 
 from the spring. As he stepped across, a hoof -print on 
 the margin of the rivulet caught his eye. This hoof- 
 mark was the imprint of a hoof shod with a bar shoe. 
 
250 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Red crawled here and there on hands and knees to find 
 other hoof-marks. He found them, faintly impressed, 
 to be sure, but nevertheless unmistakable. 
 
 "What yuh doin eatin grass?" called Tom. 
 
 Red rose to his feet and walked back to the spring. 
 
 " I just run across the mark of a bar shoe," he said 
 quietly, " an by the position of the others I found the 
 bar shoe was on the near fore. The last we seen of Hoi- 
 lister, his gray hoss was wearin a bar shoe on the near 
 fore." 
 
 " What does that prove? " 
 
 "Nothin yet. It s it s funny. I can t make it 
 out." 
 
 " Lots o things yuh can t make out. That s nothin 
 new." 
 
 " Well, when Hollister an them three other jiggers 
 passed us down by them tamaracks south of Farewell, 
 they was headin south. This could be their first camp." 
 
 " It could, but Hollister ain t here, an Pickles is. 
 So " 
 
 " The more I look at this camp the more I don t think 
 she s a one-man camp. Lordy, Tom, where are yore 
 eyes? Lookit all them boot-marks. They re different 
 sizes. One man couldn t a made em all. I wish Tele 
 scope was here. They ain t nobody like him when it 
 comes to readin sign. I Lookit them li l tracks, 
 Tom." 
 
 " Might a woman made em, huh ? " 
 
 " She might, but she didn t. Hollister made em. I 
 mind now how his boots was jomightyful small an almost 
 new heels wasn t run over none. They was nothin 
 fancy about his spurs neither plain, hand- forged tick 
 lers they was, an one of the points o one rowel was 
 busted short off." 
 
 " Which ain t got nothin to do with us nor our job 
 neither. C mon, Red, le s drag it." 
 
The Shot 251 
 
 " Lookit ! " cried Red excitedly, pointing an agitated 
 finger toward the evergreen wood. " Lookit ! " 
 
 Tom looked. A hobbled black horse was issuing from 
 the wood and making his jerky way toward the spring. 
 
 " My black cay use ! " continued Red in a healthy bawl 
 and with a fine disregard for possible listeners. 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 
 
 ROCK COUNTY MEN 
 
 " YES, sir, old feller," said Red, rubbing the black s 
 forehead and pulling his ears, " I shore never expected to 
 see you again, y old Mormon." 
 
 Contrary to the prevailing custom, Red had always 
 made a great pet of the black. And the black meticu 
 lously repaid the debt by never bucking except on a frosty 
 morning. 
 
 "If you d only stop fondlin that fool hoss," remarked 
 Tom with sudden contempt, " yuh might help me roll 
 these rocks off o Pickles." 
 
 " For once in yore life, Tom, yuh got a real shore- 
 nough idea. We did sort o overlook a bet when we 
 didn t search Pickles. Where did yuh throw that skil 
 let?" 
 
 They exhumed the corpse, rolled it out of its blanket 
 cocoon and searched the clothing carefully. They found 
 nothing but valueless odds and ends, such as tobacco, 
 matches, a pocketknife and some horse-shoe nails. 
 
 " Lordy," Red murmured disappointedly. 
 
 In the business of searching, the dead man s overalls 
 had been slightly pulled up, baring to view a generous six 
 or seven inches of boot above the right ankle. A pro 
 nounced bulging on the outside of that same ankle caught 
 Red s eye. He laid hold of the boot at heel and toe and 
 pulled it off. He upended it, and two gold watches 
 thudded on the ground. 
 
 Observing this phenomenon, Tom pounced upon the 
 
Rock County Men 253 
 
 other boot and served it similarly. No timepieces re 
 warded Tom s effort, but four hundred and fifty dollars 
 in gold did. 
 
 " Pickles Dill an his li l friends have been fiddlin with 
 the road-agent business," said Red, picking up the fallen 
 watches, " an I ll go you one hundred to one that Pickles 
 knowed plenty about the robbin o the express office. 
 My li l black hoss proves that." 
 
 " You won t do no bettin with me," Tom assured him. 
 " Yo re too lucky. Any marks on them alarm clocks ? " 
 
 " Nary a mark. No wonder Buck Saylor downed him. 
 I d like to know how Buck found out. But why didn t 
 Buck hang round here some ers an try to bushwack the 
 others instead of lightin out for home ? An why didn t 
 he search him? S funny." 
 
 " Yeah, ain t it? Pull yore end o the blanket straight, 
 Red, an we ll roll him up again." 
 
 " Wait till I strap his arms in with his belt. They 
 flopped every time we turned him over before. Aw ready 
 yore end? " 
 
 Having reburied Pickles Dill, they did not linger in the 
 vicinity. Red fashioned and fitted a hackamore for his 
 new-found pony and led him behind the saddle when they 
 rode away southward. 
 
 " Pickles an Hollister makes two," said Red, as the 
 fast-walking ponies rolled the miles behind them. " For 
 a bet the other two of the four that passed us near the 
 tamaracks was Durkin an Cox." 
 
 " Durkin an Lenn more like," was Tom s guess. " I 
 seen Cox when I was in Farewell after the fire. He s 
 still stiff in the arm. Shore, I know you run Spunk out 
 o town, but he could a laid low in the hills some ers. 
 At s what I d do in his case, an likely he done it. The 
 foxiness of Durkin an Cox, the coyotes," he added with 
 a grim laugh, "a-tryin to saw off the blame for them 
 robberies on Ben Lenton." 
 
254 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " It wasn t foxiness," denied Red. " It was common 
 sense. It was their best play, an I oughta guessed it 
 sooner. But that s all right now." 
 
 " I guess," yawned Tom, who had been losing more 
 sleep lately than he cared to think about, " I guess yes." 
 
 It was no part of wisdom to enter any towns in the 
 region. Accordingly they avoided Marysville, Blossom 
 on the railroad, and Fort Seymour, by the eminently safe 
 margins of fifteen to twenty miles. 
 
 Ten days from the time they left the mouth of the 
 draw near Farewell they rode down the straggling Main 
 Street of Flipup in Rock County, Colorado. 
 
 In its general appearance Flipup differed not at all 
 from Farewell. There were the same stores and saloons 
 with their false fronts and ill-lettered signs, the same 
 saggy-roofed houses and straggling corrals. But there 
 was this variation between it and Farewell. Where the 
 latter town owned but one dance-hall, Flipup flaunted 
 three before the eyes of pleasure-bent folk. 
 
 BRADLEY USHER LENDS MONEY, BUYS ANY 
 THING. WHAT HAVE YOU ? 
 
 The above sign, dirty white lettering on a faded black 
 ground, strung its two lines across the entire false- fronted 
 end of a log and shake building with four skylights, sit 
 uated between two corrals. 
 
 " Seemin ly he don t sell nothin ," observed Red with 
 a barely perceptible nod toward the sign of the House of 
 Usher. 
 
 " Lookit the size of his shack," muttered Tom, eyeing 
 the length of roof visible above a corral stockade. 
 
 " Thirty foot wide an a hundred foot long," mumbled 
 Red. " A gent that buys any thin has gotta have lots o 
 
 room." 
 
 " Daisy Saloon, Brad Usher, Prop. ," read off Tom, 
 
Rock County Men 255 
 
 looking under his eyebrows at a saloon on the right flank 
 of the California Store. 
 
 " * Brad Usher, Prop owns the Pansy Saloon too, * 
 added Red, picking up another sign farther along the 
 street. 
 
 " Not forgettin Cards an Roulette next door to the 
 Daisy." 
 
 " He s shore one reg lar two-legged business man. 
 He ll buy what yuh got or lend you money an then get 
 it back with faro an licker. Maybe that s the gent now." 
 
 A tall, thin horse-faced citizen attired in black frock 
 coat and trousers of the style affected by undertakers in 
 good standing issued from the doorway beneath the 
 " Bradley Usher Lends Money " sign and walked. swiftly 
 across the street. 
 
 The lean citizen was wearing a high, well-brushed 
 beaver hat. As he crossed in front of Red and Tom, who 
 had halted their horses as if undecided what to do next, he 
 glanced at them with a gaze as intense as that of a wolf. 
 He passed on, and, as he went, he removed his high hat, 
 took therefrom a long rectangle of plug tobacco, haggled 
 off a stout chew with his teeth and returned the tobacco 
 to the hat and the hat to his head. 
 
 Ten seconds later the thin citizen, raising his foot to 
 enter the Daisy Saloon, was run into head-on by a 
 drunken man coming out. The thin citizen, without 
 changing countenance in the slightest degree, seized the 
 person over-served with liquor by the hair of his head 
 and the slack of his belt, swung him waist-high and heaved 
 him into the street. 
 
 The thin citizen, one long hand thrust suggestively be 
 neath his coat tails, stood upon the sidewalk and regarded 
 the liquored individual sprawling in the dust. 
 
 That one lay quietly on his face a full minute. His 
 legs kicked a time or two. He squirmed over on his back, 
 sat up and, supporting himself by his hands, bled copiously 
 
256 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 from the nose. After a time he dragged himself to his 
 feet and, carefully refraining from looking at the man on 
 the sidewalk, staggered limpingly away. Then, and not 
 till then, did the thin citizen enter the Daisy Saloon. It 
 was noticeable that he backed in. 
 
 Red and Tom proceeded to the hotel without another 
 word. 
 
 " Go yuh ten that quick-tempered lightnin -rod is Brad 
 Usher," whispered Red, his head under the left fender as 
 he snaked out the cinch strap. 
 
 Tom sniffed his scorn of the proposition, dragged off 
 saddle and bridle, and turned his attention to Red s black 
 horse, which they had converted into a pack-animal. 
 While they worked, came a stocky man who said he ran 
 the hotel, and they caught him eyeing surreptitiously the 
 brands on the three horses. Whereupon they felt them 
 selves repaid for having spent the better part of the pre 
 vious afternoon altering by the method known as hair- 
 branding the black s Bar S into +8 and, in the case of 
 Tom s two horses, the Lazy K into the Barb-Wire. 
 
 They carried their belongings into the hotel and be 
 spoke a room. They were lucky enough to get one with 
 but two cots, for they had no wish to be public. And 
 usually the sleeping apartments of the common or garden 
 variety of hotel in that region were public to excess. 
 
 They had come into town late in the morning. After 
 dinner, which they ate without removing the stubble 
 bristling on their cheeks and chins, they strolled oh, so 
 aimlessly down the street to the California Store, 
 which, they had been told by Miss Lenton, was owned by 
 two of her father s friends, the Davis Brothers. 
 
 They bought tobacco in the California Store, but de 
 parted without mentioning to the Davis brother who 
 waited upon them their acquaintance with Ben Lenton. 
 That might come later. Red did not believe that to iden 
 tify themselves with the town s solid citizens immediately 
 
Rock County Men 257 
 
 upon their arrival would advance their case. In matters 
 of life and death, especially in a locality where life is 
 guarded and death dispensed by the six-shooter, it is al 
 ways better to know one s enemies first. 
 
 Strolling down one side of Main Street and up the 
 other, they were careful to enter the combination saloon 
 and gambling- joint bearing the name of Rouse s Rest. 
 
 The bartender, a precious-looking scoundrel with a 
 cockeye, sold them the drinks and cigars they asked for 
 and began to swab the bar industriously. 
 
 " Fine day, gents," said he, focusing his cockeye. 
 
 Red walked to the doorway and looked solemnly up 
 at the sky. 
 
 Yeah, it is," was his endorsement when he had re- 
 draped himself against the front of the bar. " I dunno 
 when I seen a finer. Whadda you think, Tom? " 
 
 " I guess I seen a finer one down in the Nation. But 
 this here n ain t to be sneezed at. Barkeep, is they any 
 chance of a feller gettin into a li l game round here?" 
 
 " Shore they is," replied the bartender, his features 
 promptly losing the rather blank expression that had come 
 upon them at Red s serious discussion of the weather. 
 " Right in the back room, gents, right in the back room." 
 
 " He s a repeater, Tom," said Red, disapproval in the 
 frank stare he switched on the cockeyed bartender. 
 
 The bartender resumed his look of blankness on the 
 instant. 
 
 " In there," he nodded, flicking a thumb toward the 
 open doorway giving into the back room. 
 
 A man lounged into the doorway. His hands were in 
 his pockets, he wore no hat; his long, narrow head had 
 been recently shingled. Red did not like his cold and 
 fishy eyes, his pale clean-shaven skin, his pointed foxy 
 nose and chin there was nothing about the man that 
 he did like. 
 
 " They s one of our dealers now," continued the bar- 
 
258 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 tender, flirting his cockeye from Red to the man in the 
 doorway. " He ll fix yuh up." 
 
 " Walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly ," 
 quoted Red with a sardonic grin at the bartender. " This 
 is shore handy. Oh, yes indeedy. Ain t it, Tom?" 
 
 " Y bet yuh. When we want in a li l game, we ll know 
 where to come for action on our money. Whatsa mat 
 ter, feller? What yuh lookin so funny for? I ll bet 
 yuh thought we wanted in on a li l game now, didn t 
 yuh?" 
 
 The bartender, experienced in the ways of drunken 
 men, smiled as pleasantly as he knew how and achieved 
 a most notable leer. 
 
 " No, no," said he, " I didn t think nothin about it. 
 I was just tryin to help y out. Take yore time, gents. 
 No hurry. Our back room s always here." 
 
 Red frowned doubtfully upon him. He wagged his 
 head in the manner of one far gone in drink. He hoped 
 Tom would have the sense to play up. 
 
 " Don t yore back room ever take a vacation? " asked 
 Red, his tongue slurring the words ever so little. 
 
 " Never," declared the bartender. " Have another, 
 gents on the house." 
 
 The bartender s cockeye roved for a fraction of a sec 
 ond toward the man in the back room s doorway. The 
 man lounged lazily to the bar. 
 
 " Shake hands with Mr. Stratton, Mr. Dick Stratton," 
 invited the bartender, leering at the two brothers. " Mr. 
 Stratton is one of our prom nent citizens," he elaborated. 
 " Dunno what we d do without Mr. Stratton." 
 
 Red Kane, stepping forward as if to shake hands, 
 stumbled in a most natural fashion and literally fell on 
 the neck of Mr. Dick Stratton. He did not paw the 
 person of Mr. Dick Stratton to any extent, yet, when he 
 had pulled away and given place to Tom he knew where 
 Mr. Stratton kept his gun. 
 
Rock County Men 259 
 
 Tom s method was different. He gripped the hand of 
 Mr. Stratton. He squeezed it. With his other hand he 
 clung to the forearm of Mr. Stratton. The latter, while 
 acknowledging the introduction, endeavored to draw 
 back. But there was no loosening Tom s two-handed grip. 
 
 Mr. Stratton was aligned with them against the bar. 
 Strong drink was urged upon him. He drank perforce, 
 and, the bartender being occupied with a bottle that Red 
 insisted contained a fly, the two brothers seized the occa 
 sion to empty their glasses on the floor. The liquor made 
 no pool. There were cracks in the planking through 
 which it promptly seeped. Remained merely a slight 
 dampness on two boards. 
 
 " They s no fly in that bottle," averred the bartender, 
 completing his investigation. 
 
 " Maybe he s dove down to the bottom," suggested Red, 
 his voice taking on a thicker edge. " Flies is cute as 
 coyotes, flies is." 
 
 " Har, har!" laughed Tom, as one who perceives a 
 pleasantry. " Har, har ! " 
 
 Red yearned to kick him. He feared Tom was over 
 doing it. For Mr. Stratton s cold and fishy eye was 
 sharp likewise. Suspicion had not glazed it yet, but 
 
 " How about that li l gug game? " said Red hastily. 
 "Whu-why wait?" 
 
 Tom smote him between the shoulder-blades with a 
 force that made him blink. 
 
 " Shore," he roared, dodging Red s kick. " You got 
 the right idea, old settler." 
 
 "But but we ain t got nobody to play with," said 
 Red, feigning to forget what the bartender had said 
 concerning Mr. Stratton. 
 
 :< That s easy fixed," pronounced Mr. Stratton, rub 
 bing an ankle, for Tom, evading Red s kick, had severely 
 jabbed him with a spur. " I ain t got nothin to do just 
 
260 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " We we d oughta have sus-somebody else," qual 
 ified Red. 
 
 " Shore," chipped in Tom. " A three-handed game 
 ain t nothin . I wanna play draw m self." 
 
 11 I ll get somebody," said Mr. Stratton and went out. 
 
 Within three minutes he returned, in his wake a wizen- 
 faced man with the palest eyes ever a man used to stare 
 with. Wizen-Face, it seemed, was another prominent 
 citizen, a Mr. Art Teller. He liked nothing better than 
 playing cards. 
 
 The four retired to the back room. On cutting for the 
 deal, Red won. Shuffling the cards, he found that it was 
 a " short-card " deck that is to say, the ends of certain 
 cards had been filed, thus making it comparatively simple 
 for the crooked gambler to do as he pleased. It is not 
 one of the most skillful methods of cheating, and the 
 knowing citizen may detect it, but against the shorthorn 
 and the drunken man it answers the purpose to admira 
 tion. 
 
 Red knew knew without raising his eyes that Mr. 
 Stratton and Mr. Teller were watching him like the pro 
 verbial hawks. But Red was not a shorthorn. He was 
 distinctly a longhorn from the top of his red head to the 
 rowels of his Cross L spurs. 
 
 He dealt the cards without the flutter of an eyelid. 
 But he was careful to deal as the mellowed one deals 
 with many an extravagant and aimless gesture. Two 
 cards even flipped over the edge of the table into Mr. 
 Stratton s lap. 
 
 Red picked up his hand and arranged it with fingers 
 that shook. Red s head wabbled on his shoulders. His 
 body swayed a little. Tom followed his example, adding 
 thereto a loose-lipped mouth and dropped chin. 
 
 The ante was small ; the bets were small ; the pots were 
 small. Red had difficulty in losing ten dollars. Tom 
 won six. 
 
Rock County Men 261 
 
 Red drew a twenty-dollar gold piece from his pocket 
 and sent it spinning across the table to Mr. Stratton. 
 
 " Gimme stack o reds," said he. " They s more where 
 that canary came from." 
 
 " They won t be if yuh keep slingin em round that- 
 away," mumbled Tom, uncertain what to say, and re 
 solved to play safe. 
 
 What was Red driving at? 
 
 " Whadda we care for poverty an precious stones ? " 
 said Red, arranging his chips with drunken solemnity. 
 " We ain t got nothin on our minds but our hats an , if 
 we wanna buy this s loon, buy two-three s loons, we 
 we ll do it ! Alia same, Tom " here Red, having drawn 
 a poor hand, dropped his cards face up on the table 
 " we d oughta got more for that ranch. The cows was 
 all right no kick comin on that price. But the hosses 
 oughta brought a lot more a lot mum-more. An I 
 could a got it only you was in a sweat to drag it. Oh, 
 no, says you. We got enough. Why be a hawg? An 
 I, like a fool, let it go at that. Gents," he went on, 
 appealing to Messrs. Stratton and Teller, " tut-two thou 
 sand more we could a got for that ranch. Think of it, 
 gents ! Tut-two thousand whole, hard, round, cold wheels 
 we could a gug-got if I d worked it right by holdin out. 
 When them ruh-rich jiggers want any thin , they don t 
 care what they pay. Nawsir, they ll spend money like it 
 was nothin . Tut-two thousand dollars all wasted just 
 wasted. Wouldn t it make yuh sick, gents? I m askin 
 yuh, wouldn t it ? " 
 
 The two gentlemen agreed politely that it would. Mr. 
 Teller smothered a cough. Mr. Stratton felt a warm glow 
 permeating his sinful being. Two thousand dollars more, 
 eh ? In that case the total amount paid over for the two 
 drunkards ranch must have been something quite worth 
 while. 
 
 " Lordy," said Red, looking down at the cards he had 
 
262 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 dropped, " them cards fell face up, didn t they ? We ll 
 deal that huh-hand over." 
 
 11 We will like " cried Mr. Art Teller, who sat facing 
 Red Kane. 
 
 Mr. Teller could never be quite certain how it hap 
 pened, but the next instant the table edge struck him a 
 violent blow in the pit of the stomach and he went over 
 backward, his chair going with him, and landed with 
 nauseating force on the unyielding floor. Chips rattled 
 about Mr. Teller. Then the table for Red had con 
 tinued his primary motion landed upside down on top 
 of him. 
 
 Mr. Teller, who from the first had made earnest efforts 
 to draw his six-shooter, released his grip on the butt and 
 gasped. With a whoop Red jumped on the overset table 
 and danced upon it. Mr. Teller squeaked he squeaked 
 amain. 
 
 Tom, squared back against the wall, yelled with laugh 
 ter and kept both eyes riveted on the bartender, who 
 had darted into the back room at Art Teller s initial out 
 cry, and Mr. Dick Stratton. Both men looked uncer 
 tainly at Red and the wriggling feet and hands of Mr. 
 Teller. These members were all that was visible of him. 
 For the table was of the kitchen variety and it had gone 
 over lengthwise. 
 
 Red took hold of the legs and rocked the table. Then 
 he stamped upon the thick wood and split it from end to 
 end. 
 
 " Table s bub-busted ! " he cried, grinning foolishly, 
 and drove a spurred heel through the split and ground it 
 into Mr. Teller s abdomen. 
 
 Mr. Stratton glanced at Tom. What he saw appeared 
 to satisfy him. 
 
 " Gimme the bung-starter, * he whispered to the bar 
 tender. 
 
 " No," said the sharp-eared Tom with decision, " no 
 
Rock County Men 263 
 
 bung-starter. Leave him have his fun out. He don t 
 mean no harm, Reddy don t. He s just playin with that 
 jigger, an he s " 
 
 " He s killin him ! " exclaimed Dick Stratton, as Art 
 Teller wheezed faintly. 
 
 " Serve him right," was Tom s philosophical dictum. 
 " He hadn t oughta crossed Red when he s drunk. Any 
 body at knowed Red could a told him that. He ll know 
 better next time." 
 
 Dick Stratton hesitated. Art Teller was his friend, his 
 accomplice if you like, but Dick was not moved to die for 
 him or run unnecessary risk on his account. And there 
 was risk, judging by the way that infernal person called 
 Tom kept fingering the butt of his six-shooter. It is one 
 of the defects of the great American weapon that it kills 
 for the drunken as well as for the sober, and there is 
 always more than a fair chance that the drunken will 
 shoot on small provocation. 
 
 Dick Stratton continued to hesitate. 
 
 " He ll be through in a minute," observed Tom Kane 
 placidly, not forgetting to sway his body in his best intox 
 icated manner. 
 
 It was the slack hour of the day, but half a dozen men, 
 attracted by the yells and thumpings, had stopped in to 
 see the fun. Crowding together in the doorway, peering 
 over each other s shoulders, they watched the fracas with 
 interest. But their expressions remained noncommittal. 
 By which it may be inferred that they felt none too kindly 
 toward Art Teller. Had it been otherwise, there would 
 have been open disapproval. For Red and Tom were 
 strangers and alone. 
 
 "Get the marshal, will yuh, Sam?" called the bar 
 tender to one of the spectators in the doorway. 
 
 " No marshals neither," forbade Tom. " I m drunk. 
 I know it. So s my brother. But I m tellin you flat, 
 gents, if any marshal horns into this fraycas I turn both 
 
264 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 guns loose. I m a peaceable citizen, but I don t allow 
 nobody to run no blazers on me. I ll try to get my 
 brother away, if yuh like, but no marshals." 
 
 " I wasn t going for no marshal nohow," denied the 
 man called Sam. " I ain t lost no marshals. Cockeye 
 can roust out his own marshals." 
 
 Cockeye, who it seems was the bartender, affected not 
 to hear and centered all his attention on Red and the 
 table. Tom approached his brother cautiously. He took 
 hold of Red s shoulder. Red immediately jerked away 
 from him, dropped on his knees, flung aside the rem 
 nants of the table and clawed and clutched the throat of 
 Art Teller. 
 
 The latter, already finding great difficulty in breathing, 
 went purple as to the face and popping as to the eyes 
 when Red fastened his eight long fingers at the back of 
 his neck and two strong thumbs on his windpipe. 
 
 " Leggo, Red," urged Tom loudly. " Leggo, will 
 yuh? There s a good feller." 
 
 But the good feller was not inclined to do any such 
 thing. He continued to manhandle the unfortunate Art 
 Teller. In which business the front of the wretched 
 man s shirt was ripped in three places. Red, the pastime 
 palling, ceased choking Art Teller and sat back on his 
 heels the heels were rooting into Art Teller s stomach 
 at the time. 
 
 " Lookit here, yuh lousy pup," he remarked seriously, 
 shaking a lean forefinger in the face of the all but uncon 
 scious man, " don t you never tell me I can t do what I 
 wanna do. An don t you never swear at me neither. 
 I m liable to lose my temper an treat yuh rough if yuh do. 
 Say Uncle/ you wrinkled-faced prune. Say Uncle 
 fore I smear yore nose round where yore ear oughta be." 
 
 But Art Teller was long past speech. Seeing which, 
 Red got to his feet, wound his fingers in the over-long hair 
 of Art Teller and dragged him out through the barroom 
 
Rock County Men 265 
 
 into the middle of the street, where he left him to squirm 
 feebly in the manner of the slimy slug when the day 
 is chilly. 
 
 Red returned to the barroom the back room had 
 served its purpose stood in the middle of the floor and 
 wiped his perspiring face. 
 
 " Has that gent any friends ? " he asked gravely, looking 
 at Dick Stratton, and jerking a thumb streetwards. 
 
 " Some," said Dick, his eyes narrowing. 
 
 "Not that I giveadam," Red continued easily, "only 
 if one of them friends wants to tell that Teller gent he 
 can have anythin he wants of me by sendin word to the 
 hotel, I d take it as a favor. O course, if the jigger 
 wants to let the deal drop, fine an dandy, but I was just 
 thinkin he might feel I d abused him or somethin . You 
 know how touchy some gents are always lookin for 
 trouble thataway." 
 
 It was wonderful how exercise had sobered Red Kane. 
 There was a dancing demon in his eye, but there was no 
 hint of slurring thickness in his voice. 
 
 "I d like to accommodate Teller," he went on. "I 
 was aimin to leave town tomorrow mornin early, but 
 I ll lay over another day so s to give him alia time he 
 wants. Six-shooter, rifle, or knife he can take his 
 pick. I m a li l out o practice with the six-shooter, 
 still " 
 
 He broke off abruptly and went out again into the 
 street. 
 
 He stood upon the sidewalk, all the folk from Rouse s 
 Rest clustering at his back, and looked reflectively at Art 
 Teller where he lay prostrate in the dust, surrounded by 
 seven or eight men. One of the men was holding Teller s 
 head on his knee. This man wore a marshal s star. 
 Tom Kane, leaning with every appearance of unconcern 
 against the wall of the saloon, swore inwardly. Red 
 would surely pull the marshal in. Tom felt it in his 
 
266 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 bones. This thing was going to wind up in the smoke, 
 and quickly too. Tom rested the palm of one hand on 
 the butt of the gun on his leg and hooked the thumb of 
 the other hand into his waistband. For, between that 
 waistband and his shirt, an extra six-shooter nudged his 
 hipbone. 
 
 Red folded his arms and stared hard at the marshal. 
 He noted the latter s bulbous nose and slack mouth and 
 was glad. Not that he would have been unwilling to 
 face a man with a stronger fighting face, but he welcomed 
 anything however trivial, that would make his task easier. 
 
 " Might a knowed it," he said to himself. " In a 
 townful o bad actors the marshal is always a weak sister." 
 
 Red shuffled his feet and whistled a few bars of " Old 
 Dan Tucker." This to call attention to himself. He 
 succeeded. 
 
 The marshal laid down Teller s head and stood up. 
 But it was not he who left the group and walked toward 
 Rouse s Rest. It was another man, a heavy-set citizen 
 with bulgy, square-cornered jowls and vicious little eyes 
 set deep in his head, who rolled like a sailor as he stepped 
 along. A stride from the sidewalk he halted. 
 
 " Who done that?" he demanded of the multitude at 
 large, with a backward jerk of the head toward the man 
 in the street. 
 
 " Talkin to me? " inquired Red softly. 
 
 "If you done that, I am," declared the heavy-set man 
 in a tone louder than seemed necessary. 
 
 " An s posin I did," suggested Red in an even softer 
 voice. " You wouldn t hurt a li l feller like me, would 
 yuh?" 
 
 " Did you whang up Art Teller thataway ? " cried the 
 man. 
 
 "What makes yuh think I did?" Red smiled dis- 
 armingly. 
 
 He was aware of a shuffling in his rear. The crowd 
 
Rock County Men 267 
 
 was withdrawing from his electric vicinity. It was using 
 celerity too. Tom alone remained, his eyes roaming 
 everywhere. Of what went on in the neighborhood of 
 Rouse s Rest he missed nothing at all. 
 
 The heavy-set man looked at Red a moment. Red 
 looked at him. The heavy-set man made a sudden move 
 ment. So did Red. A derringer barked twice. Gray 
 smoke enveloped the heavy-set man he had halted not 
 four feet from Red. A dropped six-shooter hit the earth 
 with a solid chunk. The heavy-set man sat down sud 
 denly and groaned aloud. One derringer bullet had shat 
 tered his right elbow, the other had torn through his right 
 forearm. 
 
 Red stood quietly, thin lines of smoke spiraling upward 
 from the twin muzzles of the derringer balanced in his 
 left hand. His other hand lay flat against the butt of 
 his six-shooter. 
 
 " Y all seen it, gents," said he, sidling back to the wall 
 of the saloon. " It was a even break." 
 
 " Well " began the marshal doubtfully. 
 
 " Don t say it," cut in a harsh voice from a neighboring 
 doorway. " You ain t ready to die yet, you misguided 
 fool ! " 
 
 From the doorway stepped down the tall, lean, horse- 
 faced citizen with the high beaver hat. He went out 
 into the street, halted a few paces from where Red stood, 
 tucked both hands beneath his coattails and gave the 
 assembly of Flipup s inhabitants the benefit of his intense 
 stare. 
 
 " It s just as this gent says," he went on, turning his 
 head toward Red an instant. " It was a even break. I 
 seen it. Y all seen it. It was a even break, wasn t it, 
 Marshal?" 
 
 There was a sublime contempt, a mordant sarcasm in 
 the tone accompanying the question. Red wondered why. 
 Later he learned why. 
 
268 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Shore was an even break," the marshal made haste 
 to reply. 
 
 The lean citizen nodded, worked his jaws squirrel-wise 
 a moment and then accurately wet down a rock ten feet 
 distant with a stream of tobacco juice. He strode briskly 
 to where the heavy-set man was being ministered to by 
 a couple of friends and stopped in front of him and peered 
 at him malevolently. 
 
 " Yo re a fine piece o work," Red heard him say. " A 
 fi-ine lump o gullion." 
 
 "I I " began the heavy-set man, backing off. 
 
 " Shut up," ordered the lean citizen. " Yo re through 
 understand. Yo re through." 
 
 The lean citizen turned his back on the heavy-set man 
 and walked out to where Art Teller was at last being 
 assisted to his wobbly feet. Disregarding the men that 
 held Art up, the lean citizen hunched a shoulder, swung 
 an arm and knocked Art Teller sprawling. Not content 
 with the simple blow, he needs must kick Art Teller in 
 the ribs. 
 
 " Yo re another ring-tail roarer," observed the lean 
 citizen, dealing his victim another kick. " A real howler, 
 ain t you, just like Square-Face Higby ? Reg lar pair 
 o bad men, ain t yuh? Yuh make me sick." 
 
 He kicked Art once more for good measure and crossed 
 to the sidewalk in front of Rouse s Rest. 
 
 " Stranger," he said to Red with a peculiarly mirthless 
 smile, " I dunno yore name, but I like yore style. Some 
 time, when yuh ain t got nothin better to do, come see 
 me. Maybe we can talk business. I m called Bradley 
 Usher." 
 
 He nodded in a manner to include Tom and walked 
 rapidly away. 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 
 
 SMOOTHER THAN BUTTER 
 
 " You idjit ! " snarled Tom when he and his brother 
 had withdrawn to the comparative privacy of the corral, 
 there to busy themselves ostensibly with the feet of their 
 horses. " What did yuh have to go wallopin that Teller 
 sharp for ? " 
 
 " You didn t notice when he was in that game with us 
 he d lost the second button off his shirt, did yuh ? " 
 
 " No, I didn t." 
 
 " Where was yore eyes ? Well, anyway, he d lost her, 
 an , when he slouched down in his chair, the shirt bulged 
 a li l bit an I could see right through all the way, cause 
 his undershirt didn t have no buttons on it a-tall." 
 
 " What of it? Can t a gent go shy his buttons without 
 you crawlin his hump thataway? I d a guessed you 
 was drunk, only I knowed you hadn t had enough to raz- 
 zle a flea. What was the matter with you? Was you 
 crazy? " 
 
 " Shore I was crazy like a fox. If you d had eyes 
 in yore head instead of a couple of dried raisins which 
 they might be for all the good they do yuh you d a 
 took notice when Teller s shirt bulged she only done it 
 once of a ring he had hangin round his neck by a piece 
 of string. That ring was a gold ring with three dia 
 monds. What kind o ring was it Dot Lenton said her 
 Uncle Dick owned which it turned up missin along with 
 Uncle Dick s share of the money? " 
 
 " Oh," muttered Tom, making believe to adjust a hack- 
 amore that did not fit. " I see. Well ? " 
 
270 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I got the ring." 
 
 " You got the ring!" 
 
 " Shore, in my pants pocket. I took it off him while 
 I was makin such a show o chokin him. Lordy, I was 
 in a sweat ! The string was stout, an I shore had a job 
 to bust her without folks catchin on. Tom, didn t you 
 guess somethin was up when I said we d have to deal that 
 hand over? " 
 
 " I didn t think nothin o that so much yo re always 
 playin the fool thataway, but I shore felt like scratchin 
 my head when you pushed the table down on him an 
 wrastled him round instead o shootin him. I didn t 
 understand that it was dangerous. You was takin 
 too big a chance, at that. You could a worked it the 
 same way with a gun." 
 
 " Maybe, maybe not. But I didn t wanna use no gun. 
 
 I don t want no bullet leastways not if I can help 
 
 it in Art Teller. Unventilated, we might be able to 
 use him." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 11 Thisaway Here comes somebody." 
 
 The somebody was horse-faced Mr. Usher. He ap 
 proached them, picking his way daintily among the horses 
 in the corral, his high hat on the back of his head, his 
 hands in the pockets of his trousers. There was some 
 thing almost feminine in the way he placed his feet. 
 When he chose, he could step lightly. In another this 
 would have been ludicrous, but it was not in Mr. Bradley 
 Usher. For it was the lightness and the femininity of 
 the hungry beast of prey. 
 
 He nodded civilly to Red and Tom, spread his legs and 
 critically regarded the two horses they were tending. 
 
 "Wanna sell that black, stranger?" he said to Red. 
 " The one with the white stockin in the corner there? " 
 
 " I might," was the grave response, " if I owned him." 
 
 " I heard you had a good-lookin black." 
 
Smoother Than Butter 271 
 
 The intense gaze met Red s eye and steadied to a 
 straight stare. 
 
 " You heard right," confirmed Red. " I got a good- 
 lookin black. But the accordeen with the white stockin 
 ain t him. Yonder he stands him with the Cross Eight 
 brand." 
 
 He indicated his own black pony where it stood dozing 
 on three legs. 
 
 " I heard he was a good-lookin hoss," grumbled Mr. 
 Usher. 
 
 " He is." 
 
 " I don t think much of him." Bluntly. 
 
 "You don t have to not ownin him." 
 
 "No not ownin him I don t. I don t not ownin 
 him." 
 
 Red strove to pierce the blank intensity of those strange 
 eyes to what lay behind. But this he could not do. Mr. 
 Usher s wide, thin-lipped mouth stretched into a toothful 
 smile. 
 
 " No," said Red, " not ownin him like you say, it don t 
 matter what you think, do it? " 
 
 " That is a question." Mr. Usher nodded an oracular 
 
 head. " That is a question. Sometimes what I 
 
 think matters a lot. It depends." 
 
 " Yeah," drawled Red, " I guess so." 
 
 Again the toothful, wholly mirthless smile. 
 
 " I ll be in my office at seven," said Mr. Usher. " I ll 
 be glad to see both of yuh. Maybe yuh ll hear somethin 
 to yore advantage if yuh come in." 
 
 Mr. Usher nodded abruptly and departed, coat-tails 
 flapping. It was noticeable that now he did not pick his 
 way. He strode along as one who plainly sees his goal. 
 Doubtless he did see it. For the Mr. Ushers of this 
 wicked world are a sanguine breed of folk. 
 
 " I ain t none shore about that cheerful lookin buz 
 zard." Tom wagged a pessimistic head. 
 
272 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " We re gonna go see him alia same," Red declared 
 with finality. 
 
 " Oh, shore, we gotta, but " 
 
 " We got eyes, ain t we? We got our guns, an " 
 
 " Hell s bells, that don t worry me ! He knows some- 
 thin , that long-reached stepladder does. An what is it? 
 That s what I wanna know. What is it ? " 
 
 " We ll find out. There goes the hotel dish pan. C - 
 mon. I m hungry." 
 
 At half-past seven they did not wish to appear too 
 anxious they pushed open the door of Mr. Usher s 
 office and entered. In a chair behind a table, his heels 
 resting on the table, his hands clasped behind his head, 
 sat Mr. Usher. He was still wearing his high hat. 
 
 " Take chairs, gents," he invited without budging. 
 " They s cigars in that box. Help yoreselves." 
 
 They took the chairs but not the cigars. They had no 
 mind to smoke at Mr. Usher s expense. They rolled cig 
 arettes instead and looked about them. It was an asceti- 
 cally furnished place of business, this office. A great 
 safe in the corner, a table, four chairs nothing more. 
 Not even a calendar hung upon the wall. 
 
 " Nice evenin ," observed Mr. Usher. 
 
 "Shore," assented Red. 
 
 " Kind o hot," qualified Mr. Usher, jack-knifing his 
 long body out of the chair and going to the window. 
 
 " Hot is right. I s pose now that s why yo re closin 
 the window." 
 
 Mr. Usher tidily placed the window prop on top of the 
 sash, and turned. 
 
 " I enjoy a stuffy room," he said and removed his high 
 hat and went through the process of obtaining a chew of 
 tobacco. It was evident that the operation never varied 
 in method. It might almost have been a rite. 
 
 When the hat was back on his head and his jaws were 
 working over the lump in his cheek, he went to the door 
 
Smoother Than Butter 273 
 
 and bolted it with an iron bolt a yard long and half as 
 thick as a man s wrist. 
 
 " Might s well go where we can talk," said he and 
 opened a door in the back of the room. 
 
 This door gave ingress to Usher s warehouse a huge 
 room filled with all manner of merchandise. There were 
 cases of whisky and brandy, barrels of china, crates of 
 tinware, saddles riding and pack, old and new strad 
 dled racks from which depended bridles and heavy 
 freighting harness in all degrees of repair. There were 
 wheelbarrows, whole companies of miners shovels, picks 
 and drills. Part of one side was stacked to the roof with 
 cases, some stenciled " Blankets Bed ", others marked 
 " Blankets Saddle." Next to these cases were seven 
 wide mirrors of the type made and provided for the sa 
 loon trade. Cuddling the mirrors was a cookstove upon 
 which were aligned three copper washboilers. Between 
 the cookstove and three knocked-down wooden beds and 
 their rolled mattresses was a child s cradle. It was man 
 ifest that Mr. Usher s sign told the truth. 
 
 Through this fantastic agglomeration of commercial 
 articles Mr. Usher led the way to the opposite end of the 
 warehouse. Here a corner had been partitioned off into a 
 room some fifteen feet square. 
 
 This room was as slimly furnished as the office. There 
 was a bed, the blankets tumbled, two chairs, a home-made 
 desk covered with a red-chestnut horsehide, and a wash- 
 stand contrived of a packing-case, provided with a bucket 
 of water, an agateware basin, a yellow bar of laundry 
 soap and a towel that had at a date long past been white. 
 A bracketed shelf nailed to the wall above the washstand 
 held sundry pint and quart bottles, and a can or two. 
 One of the quart bottles, the only one wrapped in paper, 
 stood dangerously near the edge of the shelf. 
 
 Mr. Usher waved his guests to the chairs and seated 
 himself on one end of the packing-case washstand. He 
 
274 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 crossed one leg over the other and clasped his long-fin 
 gered hands round a bony knee. 
 
 Red hooked his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, 
 teetered back on the rear legs of his chair and stared up 
 at the skylights all dusty-golden in the rays of the slanting 
 sun. He dropped his eyes to Usher s level. The latter 
 seemed lost in thought. His jaws were working very 
 slowly. He was looking intently at a crack in the 
 floor. 
 
 Red s gaze, wandering past the money-lender, skimmed 
 the top of the desk, rested indifferently on a letter file 
 armed with a naked eight-inch spike, passed on and passed 
 over a small but exceedingly interesting object a foot be 
 yond the file. 
 
 Red unhooked a thumb, raised his hand and slowly 
 scratched an ear. This necessitated the turning of his 
 head somewhat and allowed him to scrutinize in the most 
 natural manner the small object in the neighborhood of 
 the file. 
 
 This small object was the head, beautifully carved in 
 wood, of an Indian girl. Complete in every detail, this 
 head, while at least three times larger, bore an amazing 
 resemblance to the head Red had seen in the possession of 
 Bill Derr. 
 
 Feature for feature the heads were the same, the man 
 who carved them had had the same picture in his mind in 
 both instances as he whittled and cut and he had 
 been the same man. On that point there could be no 
 doubt. 
 
 John Hudson, the desired of the law, had again popped 
 his head above the surface of the sea of oblivion into 
 which he had sunk when Bill Derr failed to identify him 
 in the person of Ben Lenton. 
 
 Red ceased scratching his ear, slumped down in his 
 chair and sleepily lowered his eyelids. What connection 
 could there be between Bradley Usher and John Hudson ? 
 
Smoother Than Butter 275 
 
 Perhaps that rat hole was empty. Mr. Usher might have 
 come by the head quite innocently. It was a toss-up. 
 Red did not know what to think. 
 
 " Did yuh know," Mr. Usher began abruptly to Red s 
 address, " that you put the kibosh on two o my best 
 men?" 
 
 " That s tough luck for them," answered Red, rous 
 ing and stiffening. 
 
 " Ain t it? " Dryly. " Yuh see," Mr. Usher contin 
 ued after a moment, " losin two men thataway sort o 
 puts me in a hole." 
 
 " Yeah ? Well, yuh got my sympathy. But I don t 
 guess they re as bad hurt as you think. Art Teller s 
 only bruised a lot, unless you caved in his slats yoreself 
 when yuh kicked him. An that Square Face boy has 
 only got a couple of holes in his arm. Give him a month, 
 an he ll be all so fine an dandy. Anyway, why belly 
 ache to me ? " 
 
 " When yuh know me better, Stranger," was the un 
 moved response, " yuh ll find out I never bellyache, not 
 never nohow. Square Face ll never use that arm again, 
 leastaways for gun-fightin he won t. Doc Alton says 
 she ll be stiff till he cashes. But that ain t what s both- 
 erin me. It s their nerve. They ve been licked, the both 
 of em, an licked good Art special. From now on 
 they won t have the guts they had before. Square Face 
 showed he wouldn t stand the acid right after he was 
 shot. Yesterday I couldn t a talked to him like I did 
 without a battle. To-day he quit cold. An I m gamblin 
 Art Teller will be even more meachin . 
 
 " Them two sports you run yore brand on was a heap 
 useful to me. I didn t keep em so busy they didn t have 
 time to enjoy emselves none, but, when they was workin , 
 they chawed up sixty minutes every hour. I need two 
 men in their places." 
 
 Mr. Usher paused, disentangled the hands clasped on 
 
276 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 his knee and closely examined his finger nails. The in 
 spection proving satisfactory, he reclasped his hands and 
 looked at Red and his brother. 
 
 " Meanin ?" inquired Red. 
 
 " She s yore move." 
 
 " I ain t played checkers for so long I most forgot how 
 but s pose now we don t wanna move ? " 
 
 " I pay one hundred a month an keep at the hotel." 
 
 " I guess maybe the work ain t punchin cows." 
 
 " Not so yuh could notice." 
 
 " Just what might it be? " asked Tom flatly. 
 
 " Obeyin orders." 
 
 " Oh, yeah," said Red, " that s fine, but we gotta know 
 what yo re figgerin on us dqin so s to earn a hundred a 
 month." 
 
 "Ain t you kind o partic lar?" 
 
 " Depends on where yuh happen to be sittin . From 
 here we ain t a bit partic lar." 
 
 " Maybe, but I still think yo re kind o partic lar alia 
 same kind o partic lar for . folks ownin three hair- 
 branded hosses." 
 
 Red leaned back in his chair and slapped his leg and 
 laughed and laughed and laughed again. So likewise 
 did Tom, but not so loudly. 
 
 " Y old fox ! " exclaimed Red when he could speak. 
 "Might a knowed we couldn t fool you! Yuh gotta 
 admit that hair-brandin was shore one work of art." 
 
 " All o that," nodded Mr. Usher. " It would look 
 right good to most people, but my eyes are pretty sharp 
 pretty sharp. I don t know what yore business is, an 
 I don t wanna know keep right on with yore fairy 
 tale o sellin a ranch an " 
 
 " You must a been talkin to Cockeye or that Stratton 
 gent," Red interrupted accusingly. 
 
 " They was talkin to me. What difference does it 
 make?" 
 
Smoother Than Butter 277 
 
 "None a-tall. We re all li l friends together. Oh, 
 yes, indeedy. An we didn t sell no ranch, huh? You 
 hear that, Tom?" 
 
 " She must be true," grinned Tom. " The gent says 
 so himself." 
 
 " Yeah, well, as the gent was just gonna say, here s 
 two jobs open for two partic lar gents to wrastle with 
 while they re waitin to sell another ranch. One hun 
 dred a month apiece, keep an pickin s. All you gotta do, 
 if yo re still so set on knowin beforehand, is look out 
 after my interests. I got several." 
 
 " I noticed that," said Red. 
 
 " Yore eyes are most as good as mine an* lookin out 
 after my interests will shore keep em good. In my busi 
 ness yuh can easy see how me an other gents mightn t 
 always hit it off. Most folks is stubborn as mules an 
 can only see one side of a argument. An they gotta be 
 showed. It ain t always convenient for me to do the 
 showin . I gotta spend most o my time right here in 
 town or at the Empire. I can t be ridin the range alia 
 time collectin what s owin me." 
 
 " An we re to do the collectin , huh ? " Red smiled 
 broadly. 
 
 " You ll see that it s done," Mr. Usher replied ambigu 
 ously, " an you ll keep me from bein gouged out o my 
 rights by slick fellers with rough corners. O course, yuh 
 can t always skin a two-legged calf without killin him." 
 
 " As a rule yuh can t," admitted Red. 
 Yuh get the idea. Get this one : I don t wanna see 
 no two-legged calves downed unless she s necessary, an* 
 you ll be the judge o what s necessary, but any time yuh 
 gotta beef one you get one hundred dollars bonus." 
 
 " Apiece no matter who does the killin ? " 
 
 The callous devil nodded. Red did not dare look at 
 his brother. He rolled his eyes upward and puckered his 
 lips and whistled a nameless tune. 
 
278 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Oughta be more," said Red suddenly. " This here s 
 a new layout for us, an " 
 
 " Say one hundred an a quarter apiece," chipped in 
 Tom. 
 
 " That s only two fifty per calf," said Red. " Dirt 
 cheap." 
 
 Mr. Usher chewed awhile in silence. Finally he 
 nodded. 
 
 " All right," said he, " I ll go yuh. What may I call 
 you gents? . . . Red Carey an Tom Carey? Brothers, 
 huh? An that ranch yuh sold where did yuh say it 
 was?" 
 
 " We didn t say," smiled Red. 
 
 " My mistake. I thought yuh did. It don t matter 
 not a-tall. But that Cross Eight black pony is sort of 
 interestin , kind o . That might a been the Bar S brand 
 at one time." 
 
 "Meanin ?" 
 
 Red s tone was cold as a blizzard. His eyes were 
 colder. 
 
 Tom s chair creaked as the sitter moved ever so 
 slightly. 
 
 " No offense, gents," Mr. Usher said calmly. " But if 
 that Cross Eight pony was ever a Bar S hoss yuh 
 needn t go huntin for nothin hostyle in them words, 
 cause nothin s meant I m only thinkin yuh can tell me 
 somethin , maybe." 
 
 " Then come to the point," Red advised him sharply. 
 " No need to travel ten miles to go two." 
 
 " Have you lately been in Fort Creek County in " 
 Here he named the territory. 
 
 " We might." 
 
 " Might you have been by any chance in a town called 
 Farewell?" 
 
 " We might a been there too." 
 
 " Might you have cut the trail anywhere o three gents 
 
Smoother Than Butter 279 
 
 a sheriff named Lumley, an his two deputies, Billy 
 Bruff an Dune Rouse ? " 
 
 " We might a done that. We ain t partic lar what 
 we look at. Sheriffs, deputies, marshals they all look 
 alike to us." The sardonic devil in Red s gray eyes leaped 
 and danced and made merry. " Shore we seen em 
 them three you mean. An I ll say I never saw gents so 
 out o luck in all my luck." 
 
 "Outo luck?" 
 
 " Yeah gamblin . The sheriff, Lumley, bucked the 
 wheel one night an quit six thousand loser. Tried to win 
 her back the next night an dropped three. Went to it 
 again, an inside o one li l hour he went shy a thousand 
 odd an quit broke. He never played no more after that. 
 But the other two, they played. I guess yes. I ve seen 
 gamblin men, but them two could give any gamblers I 
 ever seen the first bite an win with one hand tied. 
 Mornin , noon an night draw, stud, blackjack, faro, 
 roulette, anythin . They d even chuck dice for a change. 
 
 " They didn t lose so much as the sheriff thousand 
 or fifteen hundred apiece maybe. They was still hard 
 at it when we left town. Seemed to be well fixed for 
 cash." 
 
 Mr. Usher s expression as Red unfolded this sordid 
 tale did not change. But the knuckles of the hands 
 gripped round his knee were bloodless when Red stopped 
 speaking. 
 
 " They went north to bring back a murderer who had 
 settled near Farewell," remarked Mr. Usher quietly. 
 "Did they catch him?" 
 
 " Aw, you mean Lorimer, out there by Sweetwater 
 Mountain. We heard about that. Shore was a joke on 
 them fellers. They arrested him all right, but he got 
 away while they was bringin him to Farewell. Hell s 
 bells, I dunno what was the matter with em. Three 
 gents all organized with six-shooters an Winchesters, an* 
 
280 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 the prisoner drags it easy as yuh please. I ll bet if Jake 
 Rule or his deputy, Kansas Casey, had been along, he 
 wouldn t a made it, not by a jugful. I ain t got no 
 special cause to be friendly with either Sheriff Rule or 
 Kansas, but I ll say this for em they don t lose no 
 prisoners." 
 
 " Didn t they try to catch Lenton Lenton s his 
 name here ? " 
 
 " Aw, they tried," drawled Red, contempt rampant in 
 his tone. " But you don t catch no prisoners playin the 
 wheel." 
 
 " They was out with a posse two or three days, I 
 heard," contributed Tom, fearful that Red was coming it 
 a bit thick. 
 
 " Yeah, an rode the range to the south an east just 
 where he wouldn t go. Too many ranches thataway. 
 Northwest now that s where they should a gone. 
 Take it from me, Lorimer or Lenton rode north 
 west or north. Maybe he went as far north as the Dog- 
 soldier or Paradise Bend. Once you let him get in the 
 Gov ment Hills, yuh might as well wave yore hat good-by. 
 Yuh ll never see him again." 
 
 " Maybe he headed for the Three Sisters," suggested 
 Mr. Usher. 
 
 " He might," admitted Red. " Yuh never can tell." 
 
 " Was it before or after the arrest an escape o Lenton 
 that Lumley an his two friends began to gamble?" 
 Thus Mr. Usher staring at Red. 
 
 " After," was the prompt reply. " Leastaways, if they 
 gambled before, we didn t hear about it." 
 
 " I see," murmured Mr. Usher. " I see." 
 
 He rose to his feet, yawning widely, and stretched with 
 much standing on tiptoe and twisting of long-muscled 
 arms. One arm in its sweep jogged the paper-wrapped 
 quart bottle which stood near the edge of the shelf above 
 the washstand. The bottle tottered to a fall. Mr. 
 
Smoother Than Butter 281 
 
 Usher, reaching quickly to save it, misjudged his distance, 
 smacked it with his knuckles and sent it spinning across 
 the room to smash itself to bits upon the red-chestnut 
 horsehide that covered the desk. 
 
 " >> remarked Mr. Usher, tearing the back from 
 
 a writing-pad and brushing up the sopping mess of torn 
 paper and broken glass. " I guess that ll be all for now, 
 gents. S pose you come see me in the mornin . I may 
 have a HI jag o work for yuh." 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT 
 
 A CHECK 
 
 " SAY, Red," whispered Tom in Red s ear, " you ve done 
 took too big a chance. You ve sp iled the deal, I tell yuh. 
 S pose they write back here an tell him just how Ben 
 Lenton did make his escape? S pose they do, huh? " 
 
 " They won t," returned the serene Red. " They das- 
 sent. How d they look tellin how they was held up an 
 handcuffed an the window sash dropped on their necks ? 
 Shore, I know they got a long tale of a gang an all, but 
 at that the way they acted don t show up none too well. 
 You see what Usher s like, don t yuh ? He wants action, 
 not excuses. Do yuh think they re gonna hand him any 
 excuses? They are not. They ll keep what s happened 
 under their hats awhile, y bet yuh." 
 
 " Maybe yo re right. Once in a year or two yuh are. 
 That notion o tellin about them three sports gamblin 
 was slam-up bright. Just what I was gonna tell him my 
 self if you hadn t." 
 
 " You couldn t a worked out a idea like that in a mil 
 lion years. Notice how he swallowed it ? Easy well, 
 I d tell folks so." 
 
 " Will it start Usher north ? That s the next card in 
 the pack." 
 
 " I dunno, but it ll start business a-movin . Usher ain t 
 the gent to sit still an suck his thumbs when he s bein 
 razzledazzled. Nawsir, not that long-legged stepladder. 
 Give him time to think it out an get it sot in his mind that 
 Ben Lenton gave them three jiggers the thirty thousand 
 
A Check 283 
 
 to be let off, an things are gonna move, you hear me 
 whistlin . An , when they do get a-boilin good, it ll be 
 a shame, if you n me with our li l spoons can t skim some- 
 thin off the top." 
 
 " It ll be worse n a shame. We d deserve lynchin . 
 I wonder what he takes us for hoss thieves? " 
 
 " An road agents most like. He thinks we re bad as 
 him, anyway. Gawd, what a stinkin polecat he is! 
 Makes yuh wanna spit every time yuh look at him." 
 
 " One thing, he wouldn t renig at killin Dick Lenton, 
 that s a cinch." 
 
 " He wouldn t renig at nothin so it was low-down, the 
 skunk. Notice anythin partic lar on that desk of his, 
 Tom over beyond the letter file? " 
 
 " From where I was sittin them long knees of his was 
 in the way. What was it? ... Huh? A Injun head 
 like what Bill Derr had ? That s shore a odd num 
 ber." 
 
 "Ain t it?" 
 
 " What s it mean?" 
 
 " It don t mean nothin good, an yuh can stick a pin in 
 that." 
 
 " I m gonna go stick my head on a piller. C mon." 
 
 " Not me. I gotta stay right here so s I can watch the 
 corral where Mister Art Teller keeps his hoss. I wanna 
 whisper somethin in his ear before he leaves our middlin 
 midst." 
 
 " I s pose he will be slidin out," said Tom thought 
 fully. 
 
 " Soon s he can, y bet yuh. He ain t a complete fool. 
 Lookit! that s him now." 
 
 Faintly visible in the semi-darkness, the figure of a 
 limping man approached the corral gate. The man was 
 dragging a saddle. They could hear the leather squeak 
 ing. 
 
 The man opened the gate, passed in and pulled it to 
 
284 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 behind him. Sounded then a scurrying and a plunging 
 within the corral. The startled horses were enlivening 
 the occasion. A rope slapped against the posts. The 
 man had missed his cast. 
 
 " Hear him cuss," whispered Red in delight. " He s 
 friend Art all right." 
 
 Ten minutes later Teller, leading a saddled horse, is 
 sued from the corral gateway. Turning round from fas 
 tening the gate, his peace of mind was rudely disturbed 
 by a prodding at his ribs. Art Teller, his biceps cuddling 
 his ears, went painfully stiff on the instant. He knew a 
 gun muzzle when he felt one. 
 
 " Le s go where w r e can talk," invited the voice of the 
 man who had beaten him. 
 
 Art Teller was moved to accept, if not gladly, at least 
 with alacrity. 
 
 " I ll just take yore gun," whispered Tom and took it, 
 carefully patting the captive from knees to neck in search 
 of a possible hide-out. 
 
 Within ten minutes Art Teller was squatting on the 
 ground under a cottonwood tree a quarter-mile out of 
 Flipup. Facing him Red and Tom sat on their heels. 
 Tom held the reins of Art s horse. 
 
 "Why you leavin town?" asked Red. 
 
 " I got business," replied Art Teller sullenly. 
 
 " Shore, I know yiih got business. Everybody s got 
 business. We got business, too. An my business is 
 findin out where you got that three-diamond ring." 
 
 " So yo re the gent " began Art Teller hotly, and 
 stopped. 
 
 " I m the gent took it off yore neck, if that s what yo re 
 gettin at, feller. That ring was stole from me six year 
 ago over in Cheyenne, Wyoming, an I wanna know where 
 you got it." 
 
 " I didn t take it off o you, anyhow," was the sulky 
 reply. 
 
A Check 285 
 
 " Maybe not. Where did yuh get it? " 
 
 " It was give to me." 
 
 "Who by?" 
 
 " A friend o mine." 
 
 "What s his name?" 
 
 " He s got different names. S pose I show yuh his 
 picture. How ll that do ? " 
 
 "If yo re thinkin on gamblin with us," said the sus 
 picious Red, " think again." 
 
 " Not much I ain t," was the fervent declaration. 
 " Picture s in my vest pocket with some letters. Here, 
 feel for yourself." 
 
 Red felt. 
 
 " Yank her out," said he, satisfied. 
 
 Tom s six-shooter had been trained on Art Teller from 
 the moment he sat down. Red, on the other hand, trailed 
 his gun across his thigh, the barrel pointing at the ground. 
 He reached up to his hatband for a match. 
 
 Although the starlight was bright, it was dark enough 
 under the cottonwood. The dimly outlined Mr. Teller 
 pulled a whitish packet from an inner vest pocket. The 
 component parts of this packet he shuffled as one shuffles 
 a pack of cards. Then he thumbed them over slowly. 
 
 He finally selected one and laid it on his knee and 
 smoothed it flat with the palm of his hand. 
 
 " Here," he said an odd quiver in his voice. " Got a 
 match?" 
 
 Red leaned forward and scratched the match. At the 
 instant of its flaring alight, while his eyes were tempor 
 arily dazzled, Art Teller swung his right arm and struck 
 Red a stinging smash on the cheek-bone. Red toppled 
 over straightway against Tom, knocking the latter off his 
 balance and sending his well-meant and better-aimed 
 bullet wide by a yard. 
 
 For a citizen who had recently received a thundering 
 manhandling Art Teller s exhibition of swift action was 
 
286 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 marvelous. He was coming to his feet as he struck the 
 blow at Red. He did not strike again but dived headlong 
 for his reins, scooped them from the ground where Tom 
 had dropped them, started his horse on the jump and 
 swung up with the animal going full stretch. 
 
 Before Tom could fire again, the greatly chagrined Red 
 drove the heel of his hand hard down on Tom s hammer- 
 cocking thumb. 
 
 "Don t shoot!" he commanded. " Yuh might kill 
 him." 
 
 " I was countin on doin that," rejoined his brother, 
 angry and nonplussed. " Whatsa matter with yuh? " 
 
 " Nothing but they s somethin the matter with you, 
 you squallin idjit! We gotta find out somethin from 
 this gent; if he passes out, we can t." 
 
 " We can t anyway," Tom snarled bitterly. " Listen 
 to them hoofs, will yuh? He ll be a mile away in a 
 shake." 
 
 " Can t help it, Tom. I tell yuh we can t run no risk 
 of downin Mister Teller. So far he s the only gent we 
 got any real evidence against. We ll find him again, 
 don t yuh fret. Say, ain t I got a right to feel worse n 
 you do? It was my fault he got away. Hell s bells, 
 Tom, you won t never catch no fish if yuh go on cussin 
 like that." 
 
 The following morning, while they were soaping their 
 faces at the washbench outside the hotel kitchen door, 
 two horsemen trotted past, heading toward the corral. 
 Red, winking the soap from his smarting eyes, perceived 
 with amazement that the elder of the two riders was Bill 
 Derr, the younger Bert Kinzie, one of the 88 punchers 
 whom his brother Tom had perforated while playing even 
 for his Red s wounding. 
 
 Red s gun and belt were hanging together with Tom s 
 on a nail above the washbench. Red leaped. As his fin 
 gers closed on the friendly butt, he heard above the snap- 
 
A Check 287 
 
 ping crackle of frying bacon in the kitchen a smack and 
 a click at his back. Lord, the other man had beaten him 
 to it! 
 
 But no shot followed. Even as he whirled to face 
 whatever might betide, he heard Bill Derr saying quietly : 
 
 " I don t see no thin to get hostyle for. I say I don t 
 see nothiri to go on the prod about." 
 
 Red, his gun poised, saw that Bill Derr, crowding his 
 horse against that of his companion, held Bert Kinzie s 
 hand motionless on the butt of his half -drawn gun. Bert 
 Kinzie s sunburnt face was set and drawn; the lips curled 
 in a snarl, writhing away from the clenched teeth, the 
 veins in his neck swelled as he strove with every atom of 
 strength in his tight-muscled body to free his hand and 
 gun. 
 
 Red, tensely immobile as a cat at a rat hole, waited. 
 He could afford to wait. He held the other s life be 
 neath the cocked hammer of his gun. 
 
 " Now, now," soothed Bill Derr in a low tone, " don t 
 be a fool, Bert. Don t be a damfool. Don t yuh hear me 
 sayin they ain t nothin to get hostyle about ? " 
 
 " Do yuh want me " furiously began the straining 
 Kinzie. 
 
 " I want yuh to keep still," cut in Bill Derr. " Shore, 
 I see what you see see em plain, both of em. It s all 
 right, I tell you, it s all right." 
 
 " But " 
 
 " Who s runnin this, Bert? " persisted the quiet voice. 
 You take my word for it that everything all right. If 
 it ain t, I ll be the first one plugged. I m between you an 
 him. Yo re sort o behind me thataway, Bert. Sort o 
 usin me for a breastwork like. No need to get het now, 
 no need to get het. That s the stuff. Tuck yore artillery 
 back in camp. Le s unsaddle. Good idea, huh? " 
 
 Bill Derr, taking care to keep his long body between 
 his companion and that companion s enemies, pressed on 
 
288 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 to the corral gate. Red dropped his gun hand at his side 
 and glanced askance at his brother. Tom, soapy water 
 dripping from his chin, held a towel in one hand and a 
 six-shooter in the other. He turned a puzzled face to 
 ward Red. Behind them in the kitchen the breakfast 
 bacon snapped and crackled. 
 
 "What s Bill drivin at?" muttered Tom. 
 
 Red shook his head. Slowly he put away his gun. 
 Tom followed his example. Red proceeded to finish his 
 ablutions. Not so Tom Kane. The latter swiped the 
 towel once across his wet features, slicked his hair flat 
 with the palm of one hand, and put on his hat and car 
 tridge belt without once removing his narrow-slitted eyes 
 from the figures of Derr and Kinzie. 
 
 It was obvious that Bill Derr was still endeavoring to 
 show Bert Kinzie the error of his ways. The latter, his 
 back eloquent of sulkiness, listened in silence. 
 
 A few minutes later Derr and Kinzie, carrying their 
 saddles, walked toward the side door of the hotel. Kin 
 zie looked straight before him. Derr s washed-out gray 
 eyes glanced at Red and Tom standing at the kitchen door 
 and passed on to view the distant hills. 
 
 " We d oughta get a good bunch at the Rafter O," 
 Bill Derr was saying as he and Kinzie passed the brothers. 
 " Startin at nine, say, we d oughta reach there by four 
 o clock. Yeah, at nine," he repeated, as if the silent 
 Kinzie had asked a question. " We ll start at nine on the 
 trail to the Rafter O." 
 
 The two men went in by the side door. Red looked up 
 and down the dusty irregular stretch of ground between 
 the rear elevations of the houses fronting on Main Street 
 and the straggling row of corrals. At the other end of 
 town a freighter was harnessing his mule teams. Three 
 corrals nearer a woman was milking a nervous nanny- 
 goat. But the freighter was too far away to have seen 
 anything out of the ordinary, and the milker was not suffi- 
 
A Check 289 
 
 ciently near to have heard a word, and furthermore her 
 back was toward the hotel. 
 
 Red poked his head round the jamb of the kitchen door 
 way. 
 
 " How s breakfast comin ? " he asked in a conversa 
 tional tone. 
 
 The sound of the frying bacon was so loud that he had 
 to raise his voice and repeat the question before the cook 
 heard him. 
 
 " He didn t hear nothin outside, that s a cinch," Red told 
 himself. " Of course, they s all them back windows, but 
 she s pretty early, an anyway a gent would have to see 
 an hear both to make anythin out of it. Tom," he said 
 aloud to his brother, who stood scratching his head, star 
 ing steadfastly at the side door of the hotel, " Tom, I 
 guess you n me won t go see Friend Bradley till after 
 nine some time after. Le s go in an eat." 
 
 " Shore," assented Tom, and he licked his lips and saw 
 to it that the extra gun behind the waistband of his trou 
 sers could be drawn easily. 
 
 It was an odd meal and a most uncomfortable one, that 
 breakfast. Bert Kinzie and Tom Kane watched each 
 other like weasels. Red Kane, despite his faith in Bill 
 Derr and the latter s restraining influence over Bert Kin 
 zie, hardly tasted what he ate and drank. 
 
 The hasher wondered why four of the guests manipu 
 lated their table cutlery with their left hands only. But 
 she was newly come out of the Corn Belt where the law 
 was revered as a fetish even in those days. The other 
 breakfasters were too busy gobbling a*nd guzzling to ob 
 serve aught that lay beyond the rims of their finger-thick 
 stoneware. 
 
 Bill Derr and Bert Kinzie finished before Red and Tom 
 and kicked back their chairs and withdrew to the street. 
 Red piled his plate, saucer and cup with a heartsome feel 
 ing of relief, retrieved his hat from beneath his chair and 
 
290 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 twirled it upon the point of a stiff forefinger. The land 
 lord slouched in from the kitchen to help the hasher 
 clear away. Red fixed him with a hard eye and 
 hummed : 
 
 " We ll hang old Santa Anna soon 
 
 Wa-hoo ! Wa-hoo ! 
 
 An all the Greaser soldiers too, 
 
 To the tune o Yankee Doodle Doo, 
 
 Way down in Mexico." 
 
 The landlord glanced askance at Red and brushed 
 against him as he passed. His head gave a slight jerk 
 forward. He stacked a dozen plates and saucers and 
 shuffled back to the kitchen. 
 
 " Old Rough an Ready, he s a trump." 
 sang Red, swinging full stride into the air. 
 
 "Wa-hoo! Wa-hoo! 
 He ll rub old Santa Anna out 
 An drive the Greasers in a rout, 
 Way down in Mexico." 
 
 Tom shoved back his chair. Red trod upon his broth 
 er s toe and started toward the kitchen. Tom followed. 
 They found the landlord awaiting them outdoors by the 
 washbench. He grinned at them with all the confidence 
 in the world. They did not return the grin. Somehow 
 Red was reminded of a sleek cod head he had once seen 
 in an advertisement. 
 
 " The cod s eyes popped more," remarked Red thought 
 fully, solemnly contemplating the landlord. 
 
 " Huh ? " gawked the landlord uncertainly, his grin 
 fading. 
 
 " Nothin ," was the reply. " Yuh wouldn t under 
 stand. Whadda yuh want?" 
 
 " Did yuh ever see that tall feller with the gray eyes be- 
 
A Check 291 
 
 fore ? " asked the landlord, looking a trifle dashed. " The 
 oldest one o them two just got in, I mean? " 
 
 " Now hownell do yuh expect me to know all the fly-by- 
 nights in the country ? " demanded Red rudely. " I ain t 
 no cyclophobia." 
 
 " Yuh dunno him then? " 
 
 " Ain t I just said I didn t?" 
 
 " All right, all right, I was only a-askin . No offense 
 meant. Dunno what yuh gettin hot for. Brad Usher 
 said to me last night " 
 
 " Nemmine what he said," interrupted Red. " If he 
 was talkin to you last night, then I guess you an us un 
 derstand each other without havin to chat about it. 
 Whyf or is this tall feller worryin yuh ? " 
 
 " He ain t exactly. But I seen him before some ers." 
 
 "What o that?" 
 
 Red stared at the landlord. What was going on be 
 hind that mask of sleek and oily features? Was there 
 more than a surface meaning to what the man was say 
 ing? Had he witnessed the incident of the early morn 
 ing? 
 
 " What o that? " Red repeated. 
 
 " Nothin , only I can t remember where I seen him." 
 
 " An what o that too ? You talk like an old woman." 
 
 The landlord, whose name was Skinner, wagged a 
 dogged head. 
 
 " I tell yuh I don t like it," he insisted. " I seen that 
 feller some ers. I can t remember where or how, but 
 I m bettin he s a United States Marshal or a detective or 
 somethin ." 
 
 " How about the other feller ? Is he a detective, too ? " 
 
 " I dunno. I know I never seen him before." 
 
 "If they re detectives, whadda yuh think they re doin 
 here? Ain t Flipup a model Sunday-school or what? " 
 
 " Yo re friends with Brad Usher same as I am," was 
 the careful answer. " Flipup is Flipup, an we don t 
 
292 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 want no sneaks lally-gaggin round stickin in their noses 
 where they ain t wanted. An we ain t gonna 
 have em." 
 
 " Tell yuh what," suggested Red, " s pose now you just 
 slide up to one o them fellers, the tallest one for choice, 
 an call him a sneak. I ll bet he wouldn t do nothin 
 more n take off his hat to yuh. He might even say 
 1 Thank yuh/ You can t never tell. Take a chance, fel 
 ler, take a chance." 
 
 But the stocky landlord was not taking any chances that 
 morning. He retired to the kitchen without another 
 word. 
 
 Red and Tom, grinning from ear to ear because they 
 did not feel in the least joyful, went in to get their 
 saddles. 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
 
 THE STAIN 
 
 " KIND o thought you d take the hint if I talked loud 
 enough," said Bill Derr checking his horse and looking 
 over a cutbank bordering the trail to the Rafter O. 
 
 " Yeah," smiled Red, sitting his horse under the cut- 
 bank, " takin hints is where we live, Tom an me. How 
 about yore friend Bert behind yuh there ? Is he " 
 
 His smile broadened as he left the sentence unfinished. 
 
 Bert Kinzie glanced at Tom Kane where he stood mo 
 tionless at his horse s head. 
 
 " We-ell," began Bert hesitatingly, and then stopped as 
 Bill Derr hurriedly cut in with : " I told Bert, Tom, just 
 as I m a-tellin you now, that pursuin this feud o yores 
 to the bitter end is all foolishness. Bert s got yore trade 
 mark on him in two places, an I notice they s a scar 
 alongside yore head you didn t get shavin . She s a 
 standoff thataway, an both gents deserve great credit. 
 Besides, fellers in the same line o business hadn t oughta 
 quarrel nohow. If they do, the business bogs down quick 
 an soon; so " 
 
 " Same line o business," interrupted Tom, his features 
 immobile. "How yuh mean?" 
 
 " I got a idea yo re down here after what we re after." 
 
 "Huh?" 
 
 " The road agents." 
 
 The road agents?" 
 
 " Shore. The company hired me to go get em. 
 They s a reward too, an the 88 s offerin one for their 
 
Lynch Lawyers 
 
 money so Bert Kinzie come along to help on that. Ain t 
 you a-tryin to see what you can do on yore own hook ? " 
 
 " We re always glad to make an honest dollar," equivo 
 cated Red with a leer. " But what have the road agents 
 gotta do with Flipup, Colorado ? " 
 
 Before Bill Derr could reply, came the faint report of 
 a rifle, and Bert Kinzie s horse, scored across the rump 
 by a bullet, jumped straight over the cutbank. It was 
 purely fortuitous that Tom Kane stood directly in its 
 path. 
 
 Tom leaped aside, but the horse s shoulder caught him 
 in mid-air and knocked him spinning. The horse crossed 
 its legs and fell. Bert Kinzie shot over the saddle-horn 
 and landed on all fours. He scrambled to his feet just 
 in time to seize his potential enemy by the collar and drag 
 him beyond leg-sweep of the stung and frantic animal. 
 As it was, a flying hind hoof whisked Tom s hat from 
 his head. 
 
 Tom sat up, supporting himself on two shaky arms, 
 and blinked at Bert Kinzie, who had sprung back to his 
 pony, and was dragging it to its agitated feet. Tom 
 rubbed a slightly dazed head and looked from Bert Kinzie 
 to those furiously kicking hoofs. Slowly he got to his 
 feet, retrieved his hat and walked up to Bert Kinzie and 
 tapped him on the shoulder. Bert seized his reins short 
 and turned to find Tom holding out a most amicable 
 hand. 
 
 " Shake," said Tom. " I don t cut down on you no 
 more, an you can gamble on that." 
 
 " Which shore goes double," Bert declared instantly, 
 and he heartily shook Tom s hand. 
 
 " Set em up in the other alley! " bawled Red, who was 
 holding Tom s thoroughly frightened horse and having a 
 time with it. " Come an get this locoed pinwheel o 
 yores before I bust his jaw for him, will yuh, Tom? 
 Where s Bill?" 
 
The Stain 295 
 
 Bill Derr was nowhere in sight. He had vanished like 
 a handful of smoke on a windy day. But five minutes 
 later he appeared at the mouth of a draw a hundred 
 yards away and waved them to come to him. 
 
 " If we slide down this draw," said he, when they loped 
 up, " we ll be out o sight complete o that sharpshooter." 
 
 " Where s he shootin from? " asked Red, wheeling his 
 horse. " That hill over yonder? " 
 
 " That hill," replied Bill Derr, leading the way at a 
 gallop. " An they s two of him." 
 
 "Two!" 
 
 " Two, y bet yuh. Didn t you hear the shootin ? " 
 
 " Not after the first shot. We was too busy with that 
 fool hoss o Bert s to hear anythin ." 
 
 " Well, they s two o them bummers all right. I 
 counted six puffs o smoke from two different places 
 while I was ridin along the top o that cutbank huntin 
 for a low break, an I ll bet I rode a mile before I found 
 one." 
 
 " You might a jumped it. Bert did." 
 
 " If I d had his reason, I might a ." 
 
 Bill Derr glanced at Bert and Tom where they rode 
 side by side and permitted himself a very slight smile. 
 But he made no comment. He knew when to let well 
 enough alone. 
 
 " Ain t this draw leadin toward that hill? " 
 
 Red squinted up at the sun to get his direction. 
 
 " West of it, I guess," answered Bill Derr. " Maybe, 
 if we work round behind em, we can give em a sur 
 prise." 
 
 " I m willin . I guess now that landlord must a re 
 membered where he met yuh." 
 
 "Huh? Whadda yuh mean? That landlord party 
 wasn t in Flipup when I was here five years ago." 
 
 Red explained the allusion, and Bill Derr swore. 
 
 " That s what comes of bein famous," said Red, his 
 
296 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 tongue in his cheek. " An I won t go there to please 
 any long-legged cow-wrastler, neither! You got yore 
 nerve, to come pryin round after our road agents ! " 
 
 " Yore road agents ! " 
 
 " Shore, ours. We was here first, wasn t we? Find 
 ers keepers. That s us." 
 
 " You ain t found em yet, I guess." 
 
 " What makes yuh think they re here? " Red abruptly 
 switched to a new angle of the subject. 
 
 " I don t think. I know." 
 
 Bill Derr winked at Red and turned into a dry wash 
 that gave promise of leading to the rear of the bush 
 whackers hill. 
 
 " Yuh know, huh? " gibed Red. " That s shore bright 
 of yuh. Yo re packin so much wisdom these days le s 
 hear their names an all." 
 
 " That s tellin ." 
 
 " Yeah, yuh bet it is, old-timer." 
 
 "What you two row-wowin about?" Bert Kinzie in 
 the rear wished to know. 
 
 " Bill thinks he knows more n I do," replied Red Kane. 
 " Yonder s a real nice thick wood," he added, looking 
 ahead and to the right, " full o real nice thick spruce, an 
 I only wish they was thicker." 
 
 " We d oughta be able to injun up on them bushwhack 
 ers now," hazarded Tom, squinting at the feather-topped 
 mass of foliage lifting above the right-hand bank of the 
 wash. 
 
 Here!" cried Red by way of comment and turned 
 his horse at the bank. 
 
 Outblown nostrils showing velvet-red, the spatting 
 quirts lacing their shrinking bellies, the wild-eyed ponies 
 clawed their humpbacked way up the stiffish slope and 
 scrambled over the top. They got into their stride in 
 two jumps and pelted in and out among the spruce trees 
 at a smart burst of speed. 
 
The Stain 297 
 
 Within five minutes their riders, dismounted, were 
 reconnoitering the hill from the edge of the wood. 
 
 " They ve sloped," remarked Red, eying the barebacked 
 hill with huge disgust. " They ve sloped." 
 
 " Maybe they ve gone over other side of the hill," sug 
 gested Tom, not overlooking an opportunity to disagree 
 with his brother. " Maybe yuh can t see where " 
 
 "Aw, whatsa matter with yuh?" demanded Red. 
 " Hill s smooth as a naked toad, ceptin where them few 
 bushes is on top, an they ain t high enough to hide a 
 hoss. They ve done gone, I tell yuh." 
 
 " Yeah," corroborated Bill Derr, who was standing up, 
 " they ve slid out. Yonder they go." He pointed a lean 
 brown finger northward. " What d I tell yuh ? " he 
 added in quiet triumph. " I said they was two." 
 
 The two black specks slid up the flank of a swell four 
 miles away and vanished behind the crest. 
 
 " They must a been scared of yuh, Bill," Red observed 
 with a certain grimness. 
 
 " I guess," said Bill Derr, sadly notching on safety the 
 hammer of his Winchester, " they must a knowed you 
 was along. That red topknot o yores is worse n a white 
 horse a dead giveaway wherever y are. Why don t 
 yuh wear a wig? " 
 
 " I would if I was gettin bald like some long-legged 
 folks I know. But alia same I don t think they seen me n 
 Tom. No jokin , I don t. We was under that cut-bank 
 two hours before you n Bert turned up, an them fellers 
 wasn t on that hill then, I ll gamble on that." 
 
 " Naw, they dunno nothin about us," declared Tom. 
 
 " An they ain t gonna neither," supplemented Red. 
 " Which way you n Bert goin back to Flipup ? " 
 
 "The shortest way," said Bill Derr. "If it s that 
 landlord " 
 
 " You ll keep yore trap shut," Red interrupted quickly. 
 " This ain t no time for rough-housin , Bill. Not by a 
 
298 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 jugful it ain t. Slide round cautious an soft all same 
 moccasin foot. That s all yo re gonna do. Tom an 
 me ll find out what s what." 
 
 " Lookit here ! " exclaimed Tom, " if I was you fellers, 
 I wouldn t go back to Flipup. If yuh had any sense, you 
 wouldn t." 
 
 " We ain t got no sense," Bill Derr said shortly; " so 
 that lets us out." 
 
 " An also in," grinned Red. " Lordy, I knowed you. 
 You d have to go back to Flipup you d have to tickle 
 the mule s hind heels or you d think yuh was missin 
 somethin . S no use givin em an argument, Tom. 
 Bert s just as bad. When was it yuh said yuh was here 
 before, Bill?" 
 
 " Five year ago," said Bill Derr briefly. 
 
 "Was Brad Usher here then? " 
 
 " I didn t see no sign of him." 
 
 " Then he wasn t here or you d a seen signs. He 
 believes in signs, that feller. Was you yoreself at the 
 time, Bill?" 
 
 " Not that trip," said Bill Derr, shaking his head. " I 
 done let my beard grow out a spell." 
 
 " Then nobody d know yuh now. Yore own maw 
 wouldn t behind a faceful o whiskers. I was just won- 
 derin about that landlord Lookit, maybe Brad Usher 
 Say, did yuh ever hear of him before? Not see 
 hear?^" 
 
 " No, I didn t. Whadda you know about Brad Usher, 
 anyway? Yo re always draggin him in by the tail, I 
 notice. Why? What s he gotta do with why yo re 
 here?" 
 
 " I never said he had nothin to do with why we re 
 here," Red denied hastily. " Le s be gettin along to 
 town. Yo re goin that way, ain t yuh, Bill? Aw right, 
 Tom, you n me " 
 
 " Wait a shake," cut in the perplexed Bill Derr. " Tell 
 
The Stain 299 
 
 me what yuh ve found out, Red, will yuh ? You needn t 
 shake the old head at me, thataway. I know yuh know 
 somethin ." 
 
 " Who ? Me ? Me know any thin besides my own 
 name? Yo re crazy I Honest yuh are. You d oughta 
 get that brain of yores looked at by a doc. It might be 
 serious ; yuh can t tell. I knowed a feller once, a lot like 
 you, too, face, features an all, an he got to talkin like 
 yo re doin now, an pretty soon he was in a rheumatic 
 asylum. You keep yore feet in the stirrups, Bill, an let 
 two gents who know how work this thing out. When we 
 get the whole story, we ll tell yuh if yuh ll promise to be 
 good an wait patient. Lookit how nice an easy Bert is. 
 You don t catch him losin no tempers." 
 
 " You idjit," Bill Derr laughed ruefully. " You poor 
 benighted tomfool, I hope you choke." 
 
 Bill Derr and Bert Kinzie were sitting on a packing- 
 box in front of the California Store when Red and Tom 
 rode down Main Street and turned off to go to the hotel 
 corral. Bill Derr had his hat over his eyes. He seemed 
 to be dozing. Knowing Bill, it would be safe to say that 
 he wasn t. Bert Kinzie, engaged in wrapping a quirt- 
 handle with rawhide, slid but a casual, unrecognizing 
 glance at the two horsemen as they passed. Even the 
 landlord, who was draped in careless ease over a window- 
 sill of the hotel, could not have said that Bert had even 
 a nodding acquaintance with the gentlemen named Carey. 
 
 From the hotel corral Red and Tom went directly to 
 the office of Bradley Usher. Mr. Usher, occupied in 
 leafing through a large ledger, looked up as the door flew 
 open. 
 
 " Si down," was his greeting. " Be with yuh in a 
 minute." 
 
 But it was three before he spoke again, and then he 
 said, with a sidelong look: 
 
 "Yo re late. Why?" 
 
300 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " We come when we re ready," was Red s snappy re 
 sponse, " an not before." 
 
 " I see." Mr. Usher blinked at the brothers, closed the 
 ledger and laid it on top of the safe. " Still," he contin 
 ued, " I wish you d come sooner. I had a li l job for 
 yuh." 
 
 " Tough luck," commiserated Red. 
 
 " I had to give the job to some one else an they 
 didn t succeed." 
 
 "Yeah?" 
 
 The hair at the back of Red s neck began to lift, his 
 skin to prickle. He was like a terrier at a rat hole. 
 
 " I don t giveadam for a man that don t succeed," was 
 Mr. Usher s sententious declaration. " They ain t no 
 excuse for not succeedin . Is they? " 
 
 He shot out the question like a bullet. 
 
 " Not from where I m sittin ," said Red. 
 
 Tom raised his hand to his face to hide the involun 
 tary lifting of his mouth corners. This brother of his 
 would jest in the path of a stampede. 
 
 " Maybe you ll succeed." Mr. Usher rubbed his 
 long and shaven chin, his curious black gaze holding Red s 
 eye. 
 
 " Maybe," Red, staring steadily back, permitted him 
 self to say. 
 
 " Lessee you pull a gun," said Mr. Usher. 
 
 Red stood up and drew. Tom wondered at his lack 
 of speed. 
 
 " Can t yuh do better n that? " Mr. Usher s tone was 
 acid. 
 
 Red tried and bungled it. His front sight caught and 
 held. 
 
 " ! " exclaimed Mr. Usher. " You ve got plenty o 
 
 nerve, I ll say that for yuh, but yo re only average on 
 the draw. I d an idee you was faster n that. Oh, yo re 
 all right with a derringer. I know that. I seen yuh. 
 
The Stain 301 
 
 But it ain t always close work, an then a six-shooter is 
 handiest. Lessee what yore brother can do." 
 
 But Tom had got the office, and his performance was 
 no whit better than Red s. 
 
 Mr. Usher spat his quid out of the window and took off 
 his hat. When a fresh chew was revolving in the hinge 
 of his jaw and the hat was again on his head, he looked 
 up at the ceiling a moment. 
 
 " Well," he said, dropping his chin, " I dunno. I d 
 oughta tried you boys on that draw business last night. 
 No offense, gents, but you wouldn t last the wiggle of a 
 hoss s ear with six-shooters an a fast gun-fighter." 
 
 " We ve been lucky," said Red calmly. " What gun- 
 fighter was you wantin us to rub out? " 
 
 " I didn t say nothin about no gun-fighter I wanted 
 rubbed out. I was just say in somethin . They s two 
 strangers come to town, an I want em either sent away 
 or settled here permanent." 
 
 " Right nice country to take up a claim in," asserted 
 Red. 
 
 " She s all o that," Mr. Usher laughed mirthlessly 
 (when he laughed he resembled more than ever a horse). 
 " These strangers are the two that drifted in this mornin . 
 One of em, the tall, oldest one, is aimin to ranch it next 
 to one o my ranches. I ain t aimin to have em. Y 
 understand." 
 
 " Why down em both, if only one " 
 The other one s his friend. It ll make it easier to 
 have both go. Look here, I ain t explainin my business 
 to nobody. I want them parties removed. I don t care 
 how yuh do it. Neither of yuh d stand a show with the 
 tall buck he s slow lightnin on the draw but they 
 can be bushwhacked, an not a long distance bushwhack 
 neither. The closer the better. Even if y ain t much 
 with a rifle, yuh can t miss at twenty or thirty yards." 
 
 " You don t want no misses this deal, huh ? " 
 
302 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Red patted his knee and smoothed the leather of his 
 chaps with the palm of his hand. 
 
 "Misses?" The eyebrows of the money-lender be 
 came a straight line. " Whadda yuh mean by misses ?" 
 
 " Well," said Red smoothly, " the landlord said some- 
 thin to us about suspicionin them two sports; so Tom 
 an me made out to trail em this mornin . We wasn t 
 a million mile away when a couple o sharpshooters 
 an they was real sharpshooters cut down on em from 
 that hill about six miles out on the trail to the Rafter O." 
 
 " I see," said Mr. Usher, and he added with great bit 
 terness, " I thought them two chunkers could shoot. 
 
 their souls ! Now yo re in the saddle. Whirl yore rope." 
 
 " Guess we d better have some rifle cartridges couple 
 o fresh boxes .45-90 s," said practical Tom. 
 
 Mr. Usher nodded, unjointed his long body in a pro 
 digious stretch and led the way to the sleeping apartment 
 in the rear of the warehouse. He dropped on his knees 
 beside the bed and dragged from beneath it a large open 
 wooden box half filled with cartons of rifle cartridges. 
 He scooped up half a dozen cartons in his two hands and 
 tossed the lot upon the horsehide covered desk. 
 
 " Help yoreselves," he invited and shoved back the box. 
 
 Red angled past the corner of the desk, snicked open a 
 carton with his thumb nail and spilled the cartridges all 
 abroad on the horsehide. While he stood between the 
 desk and the packing-case washstand with its overshad 
 owing shelf, stuffing the slim, lead-tipped brass cylinders 
 into the loops of his cartridge belt, he could not help but 
 perceive clearly that which had previously escaped his 
 roving eye to wit, a stain, a golden-yellow stain that 
 streakily splotched the red-chestnut horsehide from where 
 it curled over the desk edge to the bottom of the skin. 
 
 The stain, which curiously resembled the silhouette of 
 a great hand with thumb and four long fingers outspread, 
 caught and held Red s attention a moment only. But 
 
The Stain 303 
 
 memory requires no more than a moment the merest 
 eyeflash will serve to file away sufficient evidence to 
 stretch many a wicked neck. 
 
 " Take one of my boxes, Tom," said Red. " You 
 got more loops than I have." 
 
 " You gents want yore first month in advance ? " asked 
 Mr. Usher. 
 
 " We re willin to wait," said Red shortly. " We ain t 
 spent all o that money we got for our ranch yet." 
 
 " I see," Mr. Usher nodded. " I forgot about that 
 ranch you sold. Ain t you fellers kind o trustin ? " 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Folks workin for me usually want their wages 
 ahead." 
 
 * Yeah? Well, I guess maybe we ain t scared o losin 
 nothin . Yuh see, we generally make out to collect what- 
 ever s owin to us no matter who owes us." Thus Red 
 Kane with a wink and a leer. 
 
 Mr. Usher cackled a laugh without merriment, as 
 was his custom. 
 
 Yo re funny," he averred. " Both of yuh are funny. 
 Did yuh stop to think they s such a thing as gettin too 
 funny?" 
 
 " No, we never did," Red said frankly. " An you ll 
 notice," he added thoughtfully, " we re still alive." 
 
 Still ain t always ," was the sapient observation of 
 Mr. Usher. 
 
 " Here endeth the first lesson/ " drawled Red. " A 
 hymn comes next as a rule, or will some gent lead in 
 prayer? " 
 
 His eyes, wide, innocent, demure, searched the deadly 
 glare of the baited Mr. Usher. It was manifest that the 
 money-lender s patience was teetering on the razor-edge 
 of a break. 
 
 Red was ready. So was Tom. The former was pos 
 itive that he could put two derringer bullets where they 
 
304 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 would do the most good before Mr. Usher could reach 
 under his coat. Tom pinned his faith to the six-shooter 
 whose barrel nuzzled his hipbone. 
 
 Mr. Usher s self-control continued to teeter on the edge 
 of a break, his soul consequently to balance on the edge 
 of the hereafter. Oh, very near his death was Mr. 
 Usher. The Great Reaper halted on his rounds and pre 
 pared to swing his scythe. Mr. Usher smiled. The 
 Great Reaper sighed, shouldered his scythe and passed on 
 regretfully regretfully, for that it seemed to him that 
 Mr. Bradley Usher had been ripe for the harvest a long, 
 long time. 
 
 Mr. Usher s smile widened to a cheerless grin. With 
 difficulty he repressed the impulse to shiver. Odd that he 
 should experience a chill on a warm and sultry morning. 
 
 " Hell," exclaimed Mr. Usher. " I like you two. 
 Damfino why, but I do." 
 
 The brothers steady gaze contained no warmth. They 
 were as pleased as if a rattlesnake had suddenly become 
 affectionate. 
 
 " Yeah? " said Red Kane. " Don t strain yoreself." 
 
 " I won t. Now, I m takin a li l trip. I may not be 
 back for ten days or a couple of weeks. If you want 
 anythin , money or the like o that, ask the hotel landlord, 
 Skinner. He ll be in charge here while I m away. An , 
 when I come back, I hope they ll be a couple o two- 
 legged calves the less in Flipup." 
 
 "They ll be less all right," Red laughed harshly. 
 " They ll be considerable less. You can stick a pin in 
 that." 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY 
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 
 
 " WE LL give him two days start, an that s a-plenty," 
 muttered Red to his brother as they watched Mr. Usher 
 ease his long body into the stage in front of the express 
 office. 
 
 " You bet," was Tom s endorsement. " Do we eat or 
 don t we? " 
 
 Heartily refreshed by a pound or two of boot-heel steak, 
 greasy fried potatoes and pints of strong coffee, they 
 repaired to the shady side of the hotel for the purpose 
 of thoroughly cleaning their firearms. 
 
 The weapons did not require more than the flick of a 
 rag, but it was needful to hold speech with Skinner. 
 Red knew the man would join them. He did within 
 the hour. 
 
 "Want some machine oil, gents?" he asked affably, 
 standing before them, his hands in his pockets. 
 
 " What we got s good enough, thank yuh most to 
 death," replied Red, taking some of the curse from his 
 sarcasm with a cheerful grin. " Ain t you through with 
 that rawhide, Tom? You ll wear out the riflin if y ain t 
 careful." 
 
 " I ll get yuh another string," offered Skinner, jingling 
 the coins in his pockets. 
 
 " Nemmine no string," said Red. " He s through with 
 it now. I see," he added in a drawl as he stuck a piece 
 of white paper in the open breech of his rifle and squinted 
 down the bore, " I see yore memory s improved," 
 
306 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Skinner leaned against the wall and tried to look wise. 
 " Meanin how? " he queried. 
 
 " How ? Why That riflin ain t pitted, is it ? Naw, 
 it s oil, thassall. Lordy, I thought for once I was out o 
 luck. Meanin Huh ? What was that you said, Mis 
 ter?" 
 
 " I said meanin how? " 
 
 " How ? Oh, yeah, yore memory, shore. Thassit. 
 Ain t a feller s memory a odd number? Yuh ll forget 
 an forget, an then all of a sudden yuh ll remember every- 
 thin plain as the brand on a hoss." 
 
 " Plainer n some brands," hinted Skinner with a fat 
 uous wink. 
 
 " You keep away from that corral," directed Red 
 gravely. " You might strain yore eyes lookin too close 
 at things." 
 
 " I expect. But maybe I didn t look at things. 
 Maybe somebody told me." 
 
 " Which is all a heap possible a heap possible. But 
 we was talkin o memories, wasn t we? My memory s 
 sort o like yores was, cause I can t remember straight 
 through yet. I got the start of it." 
 
 He began to hum " John Peel " in slow time and try 
 with a knife-blade the screwheads in his rifle-butt. 
 
 " Start o what?" prompted the inquisitive Skinner. 
 
 " O what? Oh, yeah, I mean I m beginnin we re 
 beginnin to get the notion we seen that long feller 
 some ers, too. We ain t neither of us shore yet." 
 
 " Long feller." 
 
 Skinner endeavored to exchange his wise expression 
 for one of penetrating sharpness. 
 
 " Shore our friend, yores an mine. The one who 
 was shot at this mornin . Two hundred yards range an 
 couldn t nick him. Ragged work, ragged work." 
 
 " It was half a mile," corrected Skinner. " If they d 
 gone where I told em to " 
 
The Unexpected 307 
 
 He spat disgustedly. 
 
 " Then you wasn t in the li l party," drawled Red, vig 
 orously rubbing the rag over his magazine and barrel. 
 
 " I was not." Thus Skinner with great vehemence. 
 " If I d been there, they wouldn t a come back to dinner, 
 neither of em. Will they be here for supper, I wonder? " 
 
 " Maybe; then again, maybe not. Yuh can t never tell 
 in this country. But you can put down a bet yuh won t 
 need to board em always." 
 
 " I guess not," nodded Skinner. 
 
 "Where was it you seen that feller?" inquired Red, 
 ceasing to beat about the bush. 
 
 " Up in Slingtown once. He was trailin a rustler. He 
 got him." 
 
 " Association detective like you said, huh? " 
 
 " He was off an on whenever any big job come on 
 anyway." 
 
 " I m rememberin a li l better. When Tom an me 
 knowed him, seems to me he worked for the Gov ment. 
 How about it, Tom? " 
 
 " Yep," grunted Tom. " You hit it." 
 
 " Maybe he s workin for them now," suggested Red. 
 
 " Nah," denied Skinner. " He s after " The land 
 lord caught himself. " What was his name when you 
 knowed him ? " he continued in an altered tone. 
 
 " I didn t know him. Never think it, an I can t re 
 member his name neither. But you do." 
 
 " Shore." 
 
 " What was it? Lordy, man " as the landlord still 
 hesitated "ain t we all li l friends together? What 
 yuh hangin back in the breechin for? " 
 
 " I dunno how much you know," was the cryptic reply. 
 
 :< You can take it we know all we need to know," said 
 Red severely. " Lookit, Skinner, wasn t his name Dur 
 ham, or somethin ? " 
 
 " His name s Derr, Bill Derr," shortly. 
 
308 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Well, if he s after Brad Usher," drawled Red, look 
 ing at the landlord from beneath his eyebrows, " whyfor 
 did he let Brad slide off in the stage? " 
 
 " He ain t after Brad," promptly denied Skinner. 
 " What makes yuh think that ? Say, you want too much 
 information, you do." 
 
 " Lookit, feller," said Red, his drawl drawlier than 
 ever, " if I m a-doin anythin you don t like, why I m 
 here an yo re here. What s fairer than that? " 
 
 " I didn t mean nothin ," grumbled the landlord, " but 
 but I ain t got no orders to talk." 
 
 The landlord wrapped himself in his tattered dignity 
 and withdrew round the corner of the house. Soon they 
 heard him wrangling with the cook. 
 
 " Skinner knows, bless his honest li l heart," whispered 
 Red out of one corner of his mouth. " But they s no 
 gettin anythin out o Skinner now. Maybe later " 
 
 He did not finish the sentence. It wasn t necessary. 
 
 Red and his brother spent the remainder of the after 
 noon in guncleaning and saddlery-overhaul. Two or 
 three times they were conscious of Skinner peering at 
 them from neighboring points of vantage. From five 
 o clock till supper time, Skinner, seated across the street, 
 kept them under close observation. Derr and Kinzie were 
 loafing in front of the hotel and were included in the 
 scope of Mr. Skinner s vision. It was obvious that Skin 
 ner had something on his mind. 
 
 After supper, when dusk was merging with night, Red 
 missed his pocket knife. Believing he had left it in the 
 dining room, he re-entered the hotel. It was pitch dark 
 in the dining room. Standing in the doorway, he struck 
 a match. At first his dazzled eyes did not perceive that 
 the room had an occupant. Then, as he cupped a pro 
 tecting hand round the match and advanced toward the 
 table, he saw the landlord across the room. Skinner 
 stood in front of one of the windows and faced him si- 
 
The Unexpected 309 
 
 lently. Skinner s legs were spread wide, his arms were 
 akimbo. He looked annoyed. 
 
 " I don t see what yuh hadda come bustin in thisaway 
 for," he grumbled. 
 
 " Why for not?" countered the mildly surprised Red. 
 " What s it to you, I d like Say, is that a rifle stickin 
 across the window-sill?" 
 
 He saw that it was a rifle just as the match went out. 
 He did not scratch another. One hand on the butt of his 
 six-shooter, he slid round the table and approached the 
 silhouette blotting the gray rectangle of the window. 
 
 " What s the game?" he demanded in a whisper. 
 " What is this, anyway ? " 
 
 " Whadda yuh s pose?" was the husky rejoinder. 
 " You got yore orders, an I got mine." 
 
 Red was beside Skinner. He looked past him through 
 the window. There, not forty feet distant, standing on 
 the sidewalk in the full glare of the light from a saloon 
 window, was Bert Kinzie. 
 
 " I d a got him if you hadn t come ringin in an lit 
 matches all over the place," complained Skinner. " Now 
 he s gonna move. Told yuh so." 
 
 " That feller was one half of our job," whispered Red. 
 " What you gotta horn in for? " 
 
 " I got my orders. I know what I m doin . All you 
 need to know is yore job would a been half done if you d 
 stayed out o this dinin room." 
 
 : Yeah? " drawled Red, holding his rapidly rising tem 
 per with both hands and sitting down upon it hard. 
 " Yeah? Brad Usher don t leave nothin to chance, does 
 he?" 
 
 " He don t." 
 
 " I should say not. They s nothin like goin the whole 
 hawg while yo re at it. But don t fret, old-timer, we re 
 plenty able to do our job up proper, an they ain t no need 
 for you to risk yore valuable life a-bushwhackin folks 
 
3 1 o Lynch Lawyers 
 
 promiscuous. As I was sayin , Skinner, we need a li l 
 advance, Tom an me. How about it ? " 
 
 " As you was sayin ! Y ain t said nothin about it be 
 fore. What yuh come in here for, huh ? " 
 
 " I come in to look for my knife, which same has 
 hopped out o my pants pocket. But nemmine the knife. 
 Don t worry none about it. I d just as soon have the 
 money." 
 
 " I s pose you would. How much do yuh want ? 
 Don t be too proud. I only got about forty-three wheels 
 in the till." 
 
 " Lordy, man, what good is chicken-feed to us ? We 
 need eighty apiece." 
 
 "Eighty apiece!" 
 
 "Gotta have it! So yuh might s well shut up. If 
 you ain t got a hundred n sixty in the till, Brad Usher s 
 got it in his safe, an don t try to tell me different. We ll 
 go with yuh, Tom an me, while yuh get it. He s out in 
 the street some ers. We ll pick him up on the way. 
 Croon!" 
 
 Five minutes later Skinner, kneeling in front of the 
 safe in Mr. Usher s office and working the combination, 
 heard a most unchancy sound at his back. Which sound 
 was caused by the sliding home of the huge bolt on the 
 door. Skinner s fingers froze to the dial. He was suffi 
 ciently experienced not to turn round. 
 
 " Go n," ordered Red. 
 
 " Don t stop," supplemented Tom. " Never mind us 
 a-tall." 
 
 "Don t start to yell neither," amplified Red. "I m 
 sayin * start , y understand, cause you won t never finish 
 that yell leastways not in this world." 
 
 Skinner sagged back on his heels. 
 
 " I forget the combination," he said sullenly. 
 
 " Yo re a liar," declared Red. " Don t contradict me. 
 Yo re a liar by the clock. I can see it in the back o yore 
 
The Unexpected 311 
 
 head. Tom, I do believe we gotta be rough with this 
 jigger." 
 
 " Sa shame," said Tom. 
 
 " She is, you bet. While yo re figgerin out what hap 
 pens to liars, Skinner, s pose you tell us somethin . Why 
 is Bill Derr here in Flipup? " 
 
 Mr. Skinner clamped his plump jaws. 
 
 " Tom," continued Red in his gentlest tone, " would 
 you mind seein if them shutters is good an tight no 
 cracks in em anywheres? While yo re doin that, I ll 
 collect the six-shooter in Skinner s hip-pocket That s 
 shore one bad place to pack a gun, feller. Unhandy, 
 yeah. Just stay right where y are, Skinner. I know. 
 You was thinkin of movin the lamp, wasn t yuh? I ll 
 move it for yuh, see, where yuh won t be able to reach it 
 before I can reach you." 
 
 Red laughed at his own pleasantry. So did not Skin 
 ner. He drew his wretched brows together. What 
 might portend, he could not guess. But there was a most 
 sinister threat in Red s calm manner. And he, Skinner, 
 had walked into the trap with eyes wide open. That was 
 what galled. 
 
 " Who is Bill Derr after? " pursued Red. 
 
 " I ain t none shore," equivocated Skinner. 
 
 " Now that s tough," mourned Red, his right hand 
 flicking out like the head of a striking snake. Smack! 
 Skinner promptly smote the floor with cheek bone, nose 
 and shoulder. He sat up and fingered a tingling ear. 
 
 " You see," Red said brightly, " I only used the heel o 
 my hand on yuh. If I ever hit you right, yore second 
 cousins will feel the shock. You lousy pup," he went on, 
 mindful of the wrongs suffered by the Lentons at the 
 hands of Usher and his adherents, " you d oughta be 
 lynched, an I guess you will be. Whadda you think? 
 Ain t sayin nothin , huh ? Tha s bad. Tom, you got the 
 sharpest skinnin -knife. Lend her to me a shake." 
 
312 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 At which dismal words Skinner s dishonest heart 
 skipped several beats. 
 
 " He s gotta be gagged first," said Tom. 
 
 " Shore. He ll yell his head off if he ain t. Use his 
 own bandana, I would." 
 
 At Tom s approach Skinner braced back against the 
 safe and flung out protesting hands. 
 
 " Gents, gents," he cried, " what yuh gonna do to me? " 
 
 " Hog-tie yuh, gag yuh, lay yuh out on the floor," was 
 Red s reply. " When yo re all so flat and fancy, I m 
 gonna take this skinnin -knife " Red held up the 
 long-bladed weapon and turned it slowly in the rays of 
 the lamp " an stick the point under yore finger nails, 
 one finger nail at a time, y understand, an a li l bit at 
 a time. Djever run a splinter under yore finger nail, 
 Skinner? " 
 
 "If yo re thinkin of yellin for help," nipped in Tom 
 quickly, reading a half-formed purpose on Skinner s face, 
 " remember what my brother said about yore yellin . I m 
 sayin the same. We always agree. You d be surprised 
 how agreeable him an me always are." 
 
 " Yuh yuh wouldn t torture me, gents! " wailed the 
 properly horrified Skinner. 
 
 " No, we wouldn t. We wouldn t think o such a thing. 
 Only Injuns torture folks. We re white. So we re only 
 arguin with an persuadin of you, Mr. Skinner. See the 
 difference?" 
 
 Skinner s complexion was turned a blotchy saffron-yel 
 low. His eyes, ever slightly protuberant, were fairly 
 popping with the fear that oppressed his soul. 
 
 "How about it, feller? Hog-tie or squeak?" de 
 manded Tom, his hands on the knot of Skinner s neck 
 erchief. 
 
 " What yuh wanna know? " Sullenly resigned.. 
 
 " Ain t Bill Derr down here after the murderer of 
 Dick Lenton ? " snapped out Red, who had from the very 
 
The Unexpected 313 
 
 beginning clearly perceived how he could make capital 
 out of Derr s arrival. 
 
 "I guess maybe." Uncertainly. 
 
 " You know it," drove home Red. " Brad Usher told 
 yuh." 
 
 Skinner s frightened eyes admitted as much. 
 
 " Who is the killer ? " prompted Tom Kane. 
 
 Came a knocking at the door, and Skinner s tongue at 
 once stuck to his teeth. 
 
 " Skinner," whispered Red, " Tom s gonna open the 
 door. Whoever comes in, you talk to em like nothin 
 had happened. I ll set right here with my left hand be 
 hind the wing o my chaps. They ll be a derringer in my 
 hand, Skinner, a li l oY derringer with two barrels. 
 Count em, two, so yuh see I ain t deceivin yuh. Don t 
 give no warnin s, Skinner. No winks, nods or nothin , 
 an don t try to leave the room. Si down on the table 
 there an swing yore feet like yuh hadn t nothin on yore 
 mind but yore hair. Thassit. Sit up, you hunk o fat! 
 Git some backbone in yore spine." 
 
 Tom drew the long bolt, turned the knob and opened 
 the door. Entered then, walking with feline grace on 
 the balls of his small feet, Mr. Hollister. 
 
 " Howdy," said Red, not failing to observe that there 
 was more than a dash of the furtive in Mr. Hollister s 
 manner. 
 
 " Evenin ," returned Hollister, staring unblinkingly at 
 Red. 
 
 The latter, secure in the knowledge that several weeks 
 growth of whiskers obscured the features of himself and 
 brother, nodded pleasantly. 
 
 " Take a chair," he suggested. " Make yoreself at 
 home." 
 
 " I always do," was the flip acceptance. " Where s 
 Brad, Skinner?" 
 
 " Takin a trip," Red answered for Skinner. 
 
314 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " I was speakin to Skinner." Thus Hollister, rebuk- 
 ingly. 
 
 " They s no law against that as I know of. Hop to 
 it." 
 
 " What yuh boltin the door for? " Hollister demanded, 
 turning to Tom. 
 
 " We ain t exactly anxious for visitors." 
 
 Hollister s wide mouth stretched into a smile. It 
 might be said that he beamed. 
 
 " Why didn t yuh say so at first ? " he asked. " How d 
 I know you was all right? " 
 
 He perched himself on the extreme edge of a chair, 
 pushed back his hat, pulled a blue silk handkerchief from 
 the breast pocket of his flannel shirt and mopped his hot 
 forehead. 
 
 " Yuh dropped somethin ," said Red, for, coincident 
 with the drawing out of the handkerchief a small, hard 
 object had shot across the. intervening space and plunked 
 down on his lap. 
 
 He picked up that which had fallen and tossed it back 
 to Hollister, but not before his eyes had glimpsed it fairly. 
 It Avas the wood-carving of an Indian girl s head, almost 
 a replica of the head Bill Derr carried as a pocket piece 
 a smaller edition of the one beside the letter file on the 
 desk of Mr. Usher. 
 
 " That s one clever li l carvin ," was Red s comment. 
 "Djuh do it yoreself?" 
 
 " No," Hollister denied carelessly, dropping the head 
 into a vest pocket. " I ain t so handy with a knife." 
 
 " I wonder," said Red softly. " Is yore hair really 
 yaller?" 
 
 Hollister, despite the menace he read in the other s 
 tone, did not snatch at his gun. For a ring of cold metal 
 was resting cosily against the back of his neck. Tom 
 Kane had come alive. 
 
 " Yuh see," drawled Red, " I had a look at you once in 
 
The Unexpected 315 
 
 Farewell, an yore hair was right yaller. To-night, even 
 by the light of the lamp, she s sort o black at the roots. 
 Brad Usher s got some stuff in a bottle that turns a red- 
 chestnut hide yaller. Might it turn black hair yaller, 
 huh? An , workin on from that, might you be comin 
 here to-night for a bottle o that stuff ? I wonder, feller, 
 I wonder." 
 
 " What yuh ravin about? " snarled Hollister. " Yo re 
 crazy crazy as bats ! Whatsa matter with yuh ? 
 What yuh holdin me up thisaway for? " 
 
 " For luck," Red replied placidly. " Might yore name 
 be John Hudson, by any chance ? " 
 
 " It might only it ain t." 
 
 "Ain t it? We ll see. Keep yore paws up! Tom s 
 only takin yore gun away, thassall. Yo re shore yore 
 name ain t John Hudson, feller? Aw right, no call to 
 get het. If you ain t John Hudson, they ain t a knife- 
 scar on yore right arm half-way between yore shoulder 
 an yore elbow. Tom, would you mind rollin up the 
 gent s sleeve? " 
 
 On the instant Hollister ducked and halfwheeled. In 
 the neighborhood of his beltbuckle a derringer crashed 
 and spat with a burst of orange flame. Burning powder- 
 grains dotted Red s forehead and a hot breath singed his 
 skin. Red s hammer clicked even as Tom smashed Hol 
 lister across the head with the barrel of his gun. 
 
 Hollister bent backward and dropped in a heap. He 
 lay without motion, a thin trickle of blood staining the 
 floor boards beneath his head. 
 
 " Misfire," said Red calmly, snapping open his der 
 ringer. " First I ever had." 
 
 " Lucky she wasn t yore last." 
 
 "Is that so? Yo re a fine side-kicker, you are! 
 Yo re supposed to take away his artillery, an he hides 
 out a derringer on yuh an fills my face full o powder an 
 misses my nose by the thickness of a thin dime. An all 
 
3 1 6 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 you gotta say is, Yo re lucky. Yo re lucky, huh? 
 Say " 
 
 " Aw, you ain t hurt, you bellerin calf ! What s a li l 
 scorchin ? You make me sick. I can t always remem 
 ber everythin Where s Skinner ? Say, where is he ? 
 Who s a fine partner now? I m askin yuh, who is? 
 You was supposed to look after Skinner, wasn t yuh? 
 An didja? Didja? Yuh did not! He slides out from 
 under yore eyes like yuh was blind. First that Art 
 Teller, an now Skinner ! " 
 
 The smarting Red slipped in another cartridge and 
 dashed into the pitch-blackness of the warehouse. He 
 had not taken six steps when he tripped on a case of 
 canned tomatoes and fell head-first into a collection of 
 buckboard and wagon wheels. He scrambled to his feet 
 with a barked shin and skinned features and had the ex 
 treme dissatisfaction of hearing the door at the other end 
 of the warehouse creak open and slam shut. Mr. Skin 
 ner had made good his departure. 
 
 Red returned to the office. His brother was kneeling 
 beside the prostrate and still senseless Hollister. The lat- 
 ter s right sleeve was rolled up almost to the shoulder 
 seam. 
 
 " Don t tell me he got away on yuh ! " Tom sneered 
 savagely. " What didja hit with yore face the floor? 
 An yuh needn t explain ^neither if yuh gotta yell thisa- 
 way. I ain t deef. Lookit this jigger s arm. They s 
 that scar." 
 
 Red explored the pockets of Hollister s vest. From 
 the second pocket he drew an expensive hunting-case gold 
 watch. Red clicked open the case. On the reverse side 
 were several lines of engraving setting forth that the in 
 habitants of Piegan City presented the watch to the Gov 
 ernor of the Territory as a token of their affection and 
 esteem. 
 
 " Which this sort o tangles Hollister in the road- 
 
The Unexpected 317 
 
 agent business," nodded Red, dangling the watch. " I 
 wish he d a waited another minute before knockin ," he 
 added dolefully. " Skinner was just gonna gimme the 
 name o that murderer." 
 
 " They s no use chasin Skinner now," declared Tom, 
 " an yuh might as well go tell Bill Derr we got one of 
 his road agents." 
 
 " I guess I might," said Red heavily. " Stick Hoi- 
 lister s Injun head in yore pocket an get the other off 
 Usher s desk while I m gone, will yuh, Tom? " 
 
 " I dunno when I been so pleasantly surprised in all my 
 life," said Bill Derr, looking down at the now gagged and 
 glaring prisoner. " You d oughta stuck to yore rustlin , 
 John. Playin two hands to once ain t poker. Red, are 
 you shore nobody heard that derringer? " 
 
 "If they did, they didn t come a-hornin in to find out. 
 Why?" 
 
 " Cause I wanna get this Hollister-Hudson out o this. 
 He ain t all we re lookin for, but he s somethin , an 
 whatsa sense o waitin three-four weeks for extradition 
 papers when she s only thirty miles to the State line ? " 
 
 " Which that s the brightest thought you ever had," 
 said Red. " You ll need an extra hoss. They s my black 
 all ready a-waitin . You an Bert stick here, Bill, while 
 me n Tom do the needful. They s no sense in either of 
 yuh fussin round the corral or the hotel either. War- 
 bags in yore room, yuh ? Aw right, we ll get em. Take 
 yore hands out o yore pockets. She ain t necessary to 
 pay the landlord. Because why? Cause in the first 
 place I caught him tryin to bushwhack Bert here with a 
 .45-90 about a half-hour ago, an in the second place he s 
 done sloped an ain t here no more." 
 
 " You caught him tryin to bushwhack me ! " repeated 
 the startled Bert. 
 
 " From a side window o the hotel dinin room. So 
 
318 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 whatsa use o botherin with a man like that? Aw, s all 
 right Bert, s all right. No trouble a-tall to curry a li l 
 short hoss like that. C mon, Tom." 
 
 " Where do you guess Skinner ll go ?" asked Tom, when 
 he and his brother were pulling off their boots in their 
 room that night. 
 
 " Maybe he ll go after Usher; maybe he ll go visitin 
 friends or take a trip to Yurrup. They say that s a 
 great country kings an queens an all like that." 
 
 " S pose now he hooks up with Rum Durkin an Spunk 
 Lenn ? She s more n likely they re out in the hills some- 
 ers waitin for friend Hollister or maybe they re in 
 town this minute. I never thought o that." 
 
 Tom reached again for his boots. 
 
 " Clam down, ol squinchmore, clam down," advised 
 Red, stretching out his legs and wriggling his toes. " I 
 ain t gonna do no more kitin round to-night, an you ain t 
 neither. Call it a day, for Gawd s sake, call it a day ! " 
 
 From the boots Tom s hand came away reluctantly. 
 
 " Well " he began, then changed direction with, 
 " Listen here, cowboy, would yuh really a stuck the 
 point o that skinnin -knife under his finger nails?" 
 
 "Would you?" 
 
 " I dunno." Business of doubtful head-scratching. 
 
 " Neither do I. Quit yawpin fool questions an 
 lemme go to sleep, will yuh ? " 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE 
 
 THE DUST CLOUD 
 
 IN the morning Red and Tom went to breakfast as 
 though nothing untoward had occurred. The hasher 
 when she served them and the cook glancing in did not 
 bend upon them the darkling eye of suspicion. 
 
 But it seemed to them, when they left the hotel to walk 
 abroad, that Mr. Dick Stratton, a hundred yards down 
 the street, dodged round a corner rather swiftly. 
 
 Red and Tom promptly followed the example set. 
 Then, being wide between the eyes, they separated. 
 
 Mr. Dick Stratton, crouching with malice aforethought 
 and a gun in his hand behind a spare wagon box stored in 
 an open space between a corral and an empty house, heard 
 an apologetic cough in his rear. Mr. Stratton turned a 
 slow head. Twenty yards away Red Kane stood star 
 ing at him. Red s gun was out. He was smiling. Mr. 
 Stratton discerned no sweetness in the smile. 
 
 " Have you lost somethin ? " queried Red. 
 
 " Lost somethin ? " repeated Dick Stratton, his eyes 
 venomous. " What makes you think I ve lost anythin ?" 
 
 " Cause you look just like a gent who s a-huntin for 
 somethin a heap anxious a heap anxious." 
 
 Dick Stratton was consumed with hate at Red s drawl, 
 but he said never a word. He might have been a man 
 of stone, so still he held his muscles. 
 
 " Maybe my brother Tom can help yuh in what 
 yo re doin ," suggested Red. " He s yonder on yore 
 right." 
 
320 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Dick Stratton did not turn his head. He continued to 
 regard Red unblinkingly with his cold and fishy eyes. 
 But an observer, looking closely, might have seen upon 
 his forehead small and starting dots of moisture. 
 
 " Scrape your foot, Tom," said Red. " He don t be 
 lieve me." 
 
 Tom scraped his foot. Dick Stratton batted his eyes. 
 
 "If yo re thinkin o raisin that gun," Red remarked 
 conversationally, " I d think a li l longer. Yeah, I would 
 so. Say, Stratton, what was you doin over on the trail 
 to the Rafter O yes day? " 
 
 This last at a venture. 
 
 " Huh ? " frowned Dick Stratton. 
 
 " You an that friend o yores, I d oughta said," Red 
 galloped on, " cause they was two o yuh. What did 
 yuh cut down on us for anyway? We hadn t done yuh 
 no harm." 
 
 Red s tone was high and whining, but Mr. Stratton 
 was not deceived. He was a gambler and as such accus 
 tomed to taking chances, but he was beginning to find 
 the morning chilly. 
 
 " What did yuh do it for? " persisted Red. " A half 
 inch lower an you d a bust my hoss s back." 
 
 " Why, yore hoss wasn t hit," denied Mr. Stratton, 
 surprised out of his cautious silence. 
 
 " So you looked, didja ? " drawled Red, his smile 
 broadening as his eyes narrowed. " Then you was up 
 on that hill. Who was with yuh? Is he layin for us 
 too behind a doorway or somethin ? " 
 
 It may have been that Mr. Stratton thought he saw a 
 movement of Red s gun hand. It may have been that 
 he merely wished to terminate the conversation in the 
 most effective manner. At any rate he went into sharp 
 action at the tail of Red s words. Even as his body 
 jerked to one side, his six-shooter twinkled out and up 
 and spat a dart of flame once and once only. For Red s 
 
The Dust Cloud 321 
 
 gun had beaten the barrier by a shade and driven an 
 accurate bit of lead through and through the gambler s 
 shoulder. 
 
 Nevertheless Dick Stratton did not wilt. Despite the 
 burning pain in his right shoulder that made his head 
 swim, his left hand groped toward the fallen gun. 
 
 But Red s boot-toe reached the weapon first and kicked 
 it three yards away. 
 
 " ," muttered Mr. Stratton, and he sat up and held 
 
 his wounded shoulder while the blood ran through his 
 fingers. 
 
 " Here comes the other one," said Red, as pelting feet 
 thudded on the sidewalk beyond the corral. 
 
 A gentleman carrying a double-barreled shotgun skid 
 ded round the corner of the corral. At sight of Red and 
 Tom and their extreme readiness for battle he halted, 
 dropped the shotgun and tossed his hands up all in one 
 motion. 
 
 The gentleman was a total stranger to the brothers, 
 but he had a guileful eye. Red ordered him to advance, 
 and he continued to hold him up with alert care while 
 Tom searched him for offensive arms. 
 
 From saloons and stores and residences came the inhab 
 itants of Flipup, both male and female, and looked on 
 from a distance. Mr. Stratton continued to drip redly 
 through his fingers. 
 
 " I m bleedin to death," he complained. 
 
 " No such luck," contradicted the unfeeling Red. 
 " We ll attend to yore case when we get through with 
 yore friend here." 
 
 " Ain t my friend," grunted the suffering Stratton. 
 
 " He d like to be then," grinned Red. " He s been 
 winkin at yuh steady for the last minute. I wonder 
 does he know Skinner. Feller, do you know Skinner ? " 
 
 The gentleman with the guileful eye shook his h<;ad 
 promptly. 
 
322 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Never heard of him in my life," he denied. " I m a 
 stranger here." 
 
 You ll keep right on bein one, too, cause yo re leavin 
 us now." 
 
 " What s the row? " A well-known voice, a bustle in 
 the crowd. The marshal and his bulbous nose had ar 
 rived. 
 
 " Row," repeated Red, without removing his gaze from 
 the gentleman of the guileful eye, " I don t see no row. 
 Tom, gent wants a row. You seen any? " 
 
 " I don t even see the beginnin s of one," Tom replied 
 significantly, looking hard at the marshal. 
 
 The marshal returned the stare with difficulty. He 
 had long since realized the caliber of the brothers. He 
 wished most fervently for the heartening presence of 
 Bradley Usher. He would know how to settle in jig- 
 time the shooting of Stratton. The marshal s shifting 
 gaze signaled his indecision. 
 
 " Look here, Marshal," burst forth the man with the 
 guileful eye, " ain t yuh got nothin to say in this town 
 a-tall no more? This jigger with the gun says I gotta 
 leave town." 
 
 " Don t yuh think he d better, Marshal ? " asked Red 
 softly. " It ll save trouble if you sort o string yore chips 
 with mine." 
 
 The emphasis on the word " trouble " had been ever so 
 slight, but the marshal s sense of hearing was acute. Yet 
 he hesitated. 
 
 Bang! Red s six-shooter crashed. The gentleman 
 with the guileful eye jumped two feet in the air and 
 clapped a hand to an agonized ear, the tip of which was 
 missing. 
 
 "Stick them hands up!" bawled Red. " You ain t 
 lost nothin to speak of o that ear. You got all the rest 
 to hear with. One an a fraction is good enough for a 
 white man, let alone a hoss-thief like yoreself. How 
 
The Dust Cloud 323 
 
 about it, Marshal? Ain t Flipup better off without this 
 sharp?" 
 
 " You bet she is," declared the officer, whom Red s 
 unexpected shot even as Red had intended had 
 brought to see the light. " I ll see he leaves town myself." 
 
 " I ll help you see," said Red dryly and faced about his 
 captive. 
 
 " I d like my shotgun an that six-shooter the other 
 feller took off me," protested the prisoner, hanging back 
 in the breeching. 
 
 " You can keep right on likin . They ain t no law 
 against it. Git a-goin ." 
 
 The captive got. A gun muzzle jammed with great 
 force into one s lumbar region is a potent persuader. 
 
 Together Red and the marshal escorted the gentleman 
 with the guileful eye to the hitching-rail in front of the 
 Pansy saloon. 
 
 " I ll be back," snarled the fellow, swinging up. 
 
 " Be shore I ain t here when you come," Red advised 
 pleasantly. " You got one minute to get out o range." 
 
 Somewhat to Red s regret the stranger beat out the 
 sixty seconds by a safe margin. 
 
 Red turned to the marshal. 
 
 "Who was that feller?" he queried. 
 
 "Don t yuh know him?" said the marshal, elevating 
 surprised eyebrows. " That s Bill Doran. He s Brad 
 Usher s foreman out at the Empire." 
 
 "The Empire Mine?" 
 
 " Shore." 
 
 " Then he ain t exactly a stranger in Flipup, is he? " 
 
 " Not much he ain t. Why?" 
 
 " I was just wonderin , just wonderin . Say, he s 
 turned to the left where the trail forks. Is that the 
 Empire trail ? Yeah ? Plain trail alia way, huh ? Ain t 
 Nature wonderful ? " 
 
 " But what s Brad Usher gonna say about it all ? " 
 
324 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 worried the marshal, heeding not Red s nonsense. " His 
 men ain t never quarreled among themselves before." 
 
 " Djever stop to think we maybe had our orders? 
 They s such a thing as Usher gettin tired of part of his 
 help. I ain t tellin all I know, but you can put down a 
 bet shootin Stratton an runnin out Doran was a heap 
 the proper caper." 
 
 " So that s how it is." The marshal drew a relieved 
 breath. " I guessed that might be the way of it. I won 
 der what them two done to get Brad on the prod." 
 
 You ll have to ask Brad, or maybe Skinner d know." 
 
 Red was watching the marshal closely when he men 
 tioned the landlord s name. The officer s expression did 
 not alter. 
 
 "Yeah," he said without interest. "We better be 
 gettin back." 
 
 " Shore," assented Red, beginning to think that the 
 marshal knew nothing of the difficulty of the previous 
 evening. " Stratton oughta be fixed up." 
 
 " I s pose I ll have to see he s took care of till he s able 
 to travel," grumbled the marshal. " I don t see why 
 Brad- 
 
 " They ain t no use fussin about Brad," Red cut him 
 short sharply. " He does things the way he likes an 
 has em done similar. You don t see Skinner round town 
 anywhere, do yuh ? " 
 
 " Skinner. Yuh don t mean " 
 
 " I mean Skinner s left town, an I don t think he ll be 
 back right away." 
 
 The marshal stopped short in his tracks and stared 
 helplessly at Red Kane. 
 
 " Why, Skinner was about as close to Brad as his 
 skin." 
 
 " He ain t no more." 
 
 Red could not repress a smile. It was pleasant to be 
 absolutely sure that Skinner had not talked with the mar- 
 
The Dust Cloud 325 
 
 shal before leaving town. Which being so, it was doubt 
 ful whether he had unbosomed himself to any one save 
 Stratton and the Empire Mine foreman. 
 
 " I wouldn t a believed it," muttered the marshal, half 
 to himself. " Skinner! Who d a thought it! Huh? " 
 
 " Nothin . C mon. Mustn t let Stratton go too long." 
 
 But they found on reaching the scene of the shooting 
 that Stratton had been bandaged and removed to the 
 shack he shared with the bartender of Rouse s Rest. He 
 was reported by a friend to be resting easily. 
 
 " Tha s good," said Red. " You needn t pick that up," 
 he added coldly as the friend stooped to retrieve Strat- 
 ton s six-shooter. 
 
 The friend snatched away his fingers as if the metal 
 had been white-hot. Red scooped up the six-shooter and 
 weighed it in the palm of his hand. 
 
 " I always like to keep my souvenirs," he told the 
 embarrassed friend. " You might tell Stratton that." 
 
 "I uh I will," stuttered the friend and went 
 elsewhere hastily. 
 
 The marshal, who knew the friend to be weaker than 
 himself, smiled openly, but Red s countenance remained 
 unmoved. He nodded to the marshal and crossed to 
 where Tom, Doran s shotgun in the crook of his arm, 
 was leaning against the posts of the corral. 
 
 "Le s get our hosses, Tom," said he in a low voice, 
 " an take a li l ride." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 tf To return that shotgun. It belongs to the foreman 
 o the Empire Mine." 
 
 " Now yo re whistlin ," said the thoroughly delighted 
 Tom. 
 
 Together they went to the hotel corral. The marshal 
 watched them depart and gnav/ed his under-lip the while. 
 
 " I wonder what is up," he asked himself. " Skinner! 
 Who d a thought it?" 
 
326 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Bill Doran was leaning over the kitchen table bathing 
 his afflicted ear and swearing. So engrossed was he in 
 his immediate affairs that he did not observe a shadow 
 that passed the window, a shadow that stopped at the 
 doorway and fell athwart the kitchen floor. 
 
 Something brushed Bill Doran s shoulder and clattered 
 down upon the table with a force that made the basin 
 dance. Which something was a double-barreled shot 
 gun. 
 
 Bill Doran at the touch and crash jumped and whirled 
 like a bee-stung horse and made a futile movement with 
 his hand. 
 
 " No use reachin at that empty holster," remarked 
 Red, stepping into the kitchen. " We still got yore gun. 
 You fellers are shore a fine lot to go after anybody. 
 Yo re as bad as Stratton. Don t you ever look behind 
 yuh?" 
 
 Bill Doran, backing away, butted into the wall. 
 
 " The doorway into the other room is four feet to 
 yore left," drawled Red, " if that s what yo re lookin 
 for. Nemmine it now. Yo re all right where y are. 
 Lookit, feller, howja get hold o the shotgun that killed 
 Dick Lenton?" 
 
 At this there was a sudden thud and a pad-pad of bare 
 feet in the next room. Red, leaving Tom to guard Bill 
 Doran, jumped through the doorway in time to see the 
 volatile Mr. Skinner in singlet and shirt escaping through 
 the window. Red hurled himself after and was lucky 
 enough to grab an ankle. Red followed his prey into 
 the outer air and was kicked in the eye by a calloused 
 heel. Together he and Skinner rolled among discarded 
 cans and empty bottles and clawed and tore and smote 
 till Red drove a knee into Skinner s stomach. Instantly 
 the latter went limp. Red arose minus a section of shirt 
 and dragged the gasping Skinner by the left leg into the 
 house. 
 
The Dust Cloud 327 
 
 When Skinner could talk he addressed himself to Bill 
 Doran. 
 
 " Why didn t yuh tell me they was comin ? " he de 
 manded bitterly. 
 
 " Why didn t yuh come to life when I asked yuh to 
 tie up my ear?" returned Bill Doran. " If yuh d done 
 that instead o sleepin away like a prize hawg, this 
 wouldn t a happened. You d a heard em comin . 
 Howja think I can hear anythin with one ear full o 
 blood? I never could hear so awful good out o the 
 other, an you know it. You make me sick! If these 
 two id jits with the guns wasn t so rambunctious, I d shore 
 make you hard to find." 
 
 " Yah-h ! " sneered Skinner with a malevolent grin. 
 
 " I got three men workin here," went on Bill Doran, 
 transferring his attention to the brothers. " They ll " 
 
 " I seen em," Red interrupted placidly. " Old fellers 
 they was, the three. Besides, they re in the tunnel. We 
 seen em go in before we come out in the open. Don t fret 
 about them doin nothin . They won t. Nemmine edgin 
 any closer to Skinner, Bill. Tain t polite to go nudgin 
 folks yuh dunno, an yuh told me yoreself less n a half 
 hour ago yuh didn t know Skinner. Thassall right. I 
 don t wonder yuh was ashamed to admit yuh knowed him. 
 Be ashamed myself, an Gawd knows I ain t partic lar. 
 Skinner, stop squinchin yore feet an look at me. We 
 was interrupted last time we met, an you went away 
 without sayin so long. S pose now yuh go on from 
 where yuh left off." 
 
 " Interruptions are becomin a habit," grunted Skin 
 ner. " We re gonna be again." 
 
 At the same instant Red heard the approaching horse 
 and went to the door. Along the Flipup trail raced a 
 rider. The horse he did not recognize. Thirty seconds 
 later Red saw that the rider was Bert Kinzie. The latter 
 dashed up, jerked his horse to a rearing halt, and cried: 
 
328 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " They re after yuh ! Git a-goin ! " 
 
 " Who s after us? " demanded Red. 
 
 " Most o Flipup. Nemmine askin questions. Yuh 
 ain t got time. Tell yuh about it later. Git a-goin ." 
 
 Red Kane sprang back indoors. 
 
 " C mon, you fellers ! " he shouted to Bill Doran and 
 Skinner. " Get out to the corral ! Pick up yore saddles 
 an bridles first! Quick!" 
 
 " Whatcha want them for ? " asked Bert Kinzie in 
 astonishment as Red and Tom herded their captives to 
 the corral. 
 
 " Do you know any shortcut out o this country? " 
 
 " Shore not only the trails." 
 
 " Me too. But these fellers live here. They know the 
 way the canons run. They ll show us the way out. Git 
 along, you two. Stand there by the woodpile." 
 
 From their position at the woodpile the prisoners could 
 not see the trail to town and the distant dust-cloud that 
 hung above it. 
 
 Red knocked free the yard-long lever of the wire- 
 fastened gate and ran in to rope two of the three horses 
 standing in hipshot drowsiness in a shady corner. To 
 his disgust he discovered that two of the horses were 
 lame one in the off shoulder, the other in the near 
 fore. Red returned to the gate swearing and dragging 
 the third animal. Bill Doran s mouth lifted at one 
 corner. 
 
 " I thought I was out o luck when I lamed that gray 
 comin home this mornin ," he said with a chuckle. 
 " Now yuh can only take one of us." 
 
 " Just for that," drawled Red, bridling the gray, look 
 ing from beneath his eyebrows at the face of Skinner, 
 " just for that we re gonna take you, Doran. Aw right, 
 Tom?" 
 
 Tom, who had been passing the cinchstraps, leaped 
 back to his own horse. 
 
The Dust Cloud 329 
 
 " Git aboard, Skinner," Red ordered sharply. 
 
 "Me? I thought you was gonna take Bill!" A 
 grievous horror was in Skinner s face and tone. 
 
 " I changed my mind when I seen how yore face 
 changed from sad to happy when I told Doran I d take 
 him. Don t pull that rope too tight, Tom. He s gotta 
 breathe. Git aboard." 
 
 The cold, hard muzzle, of Tom s six-shooter jabbed 
 Skinner in the short ribs. He stuck his bare toes in the 
 stirrup and swung up with a wail of 
 
 " For Gawd s sake, gents, lemme put on my pants ! " 
 
 Red ran to the house while Bert Kinzie and Tom Kane 
 fidgeted in their saddles with impatience. They, too, 
 had seen the distant dust-cloud. Every second brought 
 it nearer. 
 
 Within a half minute Red returned on the run, a shape 
 less bundle under his arm and a merry glint in his 
 eye. Under the circumstances the glint seemed out of 
 place. 
 
 " Where s my hat? " demanded Skinner. 
 
 " You don t need no hat," replied Red, mounting with 
 difficulty by reason of the bundle. " Let s go, Skinner. 
 You n me ll lead the way." 
 
 " Them ain t my pants ! " cried Skinner, eying the 
 bundle. 
 
 " Ain t they ? That s tough. Skinner, if we re caught 
 by that posse, you won t never need to make a fuss about 
 pants again. An , if you gamble with us by fallin off, 
 just remember they s only twenty feet o slack between 
 the loop o rope round yore neck and Tom s saddlehorn. 
 Now you get us to the line the shortest way. How about 
 it, Skinner?" 
 
 " Straight for that canon," directed the sulky Skinner. 
 
 Red waved an ironic farewell to Bill Doran. 
 
 " So long," he shouted. " I ll ask Skinner about that 
 shotgun." 
 
330 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 The four horsemen, well bunched, whirled past the 
 end of the corral. Skinner rapped out a hearty oath. 
 
 " Yeah," called Red above the thudding beat of the 
 flying horseshoes, " that cloud o dust ain t more n two 
 miles away, but it ain t gonna do you a bit o good. Naw- 
 sir." 
 
 " Gimme them clo es," demanded Skinner. 
 
 " Yo re talkin foolish," said Red, tying the bundle to 
 his saddle-strings. " Them clo es stay with me till we re 
 across the line." 
 
 Skinner proved a clever guide. It was down this 
 canon and up that, follow a creek-bed for a mile or two, 
 then across and up the rocks of a slide where a single 
 stumble would have written finis for the stumbler, 
 through woods of pine and cedar where the wind 
 soughed mournfully and no birds sang, across sun 
 drenched boggy meadows grown up in rank, high grass 
 that brushed the riders knees, over bare ridges and 
 through dry wastes they rode without a halt, to the 
 pain and anguish of Skinner, who called upon his 
 gods to witness that he was becoming more saddle-sore 
 by the minute, till they came at last to the creek that 
 marked the boundary line between the State and the 
 Territory. 
 
 They threshed across in a swirl of eddies and pushed 
 on a good five miles before stopping to make camp. 
 
 " Ol Skinner ain t such a hell-devil after all," said Red, 
 sliding to the ground and stretching his legs. " We 
 didn t see a sight o them fellers once, an Bill Doran 
 musta told em which way we went. We re obliged to 
 yuh, Skinner." 
 
 " I ll be obliged if yuh ll take off this rope an gimme 
 them clo es," grumbled Skinner. 
 
 " Why, shore," assented Red cheerfully. " Tom, will 
 yuh take off the gent s halter? " 
 
 Skinner dismounted and proceeded immediately to 
 
The Dust Cloud 331 
 
 finger with the utmost tenderness various parts of his 
 anatomy. 
 
 " I m raw like a skinned cow," he complained. They 
 ain t no skin left inside my knees, an my shoulders is all 
 sunburned to hellengone." 
 
 " That s shore tough," sympathized Red. " Here s 
 yore clo es." 
 
 He tossed to Skinner what appeared to be an ancient 
 checked calico wrapper and a sunbonnet. Appearances 
 were not deceptive. They were a calico wrapper and a 
 sunbonnet. Skinner spread them out upon the ground 
 and stared at them in anguish and dismay. 
 
 " My pants ! " he moaned. " Wasn t they no pants in 
 that bundle?" 
 
 " Nary a pant," Red shook his head. 
 
 " They was my blue flannel shirt on the outside 
 a-wrappin these here up," insisted Skinner. " I seen 
 it." 
 
 " Shore they was a shirt. Here she is." 
 
 Cursing under his breath, Skinner ducked his head into 
 the tail of the shirt and pulled it on. 
 
 " I don t see why yuh didn t get my clo es," he fretted. 
 " They was hangin right in plain sight on the chair by 
 my bunk, an that fool wrapper an sunbonnet is the other 
 suit o Bill Doran s breed cook, which she s went to town 
 for the day, an they was hangin in the kitchen behind 
 the stove. You got my shirt all right. Why " 
 
 " Maybe I wanted to see how you d look in woman s 
 clo es," interrupted Red without a trace of a smile. 
 
 " I won t put em on," gurgled Skinner. 
 
 " That s all right too. Ride in yore shirt-tail for all 
 I care. But that wrapper an sunbonnet is all the clo es 
 yo re gonna get for awhile, an you can stick a pin in 
 that." 
 
 " Ain t yuh gonna turn me loose now ? " 
 
 " Not now not by a jugful we ain t. We like yore 
 
332 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 company, Skinner, an we aim to keep yuh for a spell 
 where we can look at yuh." 
 
 The wretched Skinner dropped his eyes to the wrap 
 per and the sunbonnet. Then, swiftly stooping, he rolled 
 the two together into a compact bundle and sat down 
 upon it with a gusty groan. 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO 
 
 A PLEASANT EVENING 
 
 AFTER supper they lashed Skinner hand and foot an 
 fore and aft between two trees and withdrew to a dis 
 tance. All this at the instance of Bert Kinzie who had 
 whispered to Red during the ride from the Empire that 
 what he had to say was not for the ears of Skinner. 
 
 " They s a warrant out for yuh," Bert Kinzie said with 
 out preliminary. 
 
 " Both of us? " Red cocked an expectant eyebrow. 
 
 " Both of yuh." 
 
 Tom swore frankly. 
 
 " There," he snarled, turning on his brother, " I told 
 yuh so!" 
 
 " Shut up. Le s hear the rest of it." 
 
 Red nodded to Bert Kinzie. 
 
 " She s thisaway," said the puncher. " Last night, 
 when we got Hudson safe across the line to Sparksburg, 
 we bedded him down in the jug an went to the hotel our 
 selves. She s kind o late, but the barkeep says another 
 gent s gettin grub, an we can eat. The other gent turns 
 out to be Kansas Casey. First thing he asks us have we 
 seen you two. I kicks Bill under the table to keep his 
 trap shut, an I told Kansas we ain t, cause they s a look 
 in Casey s eye I don t like. 
 
 " We get to talkin an she all comes out fine as f rawg s 
 hair in August. They s warrants out against both of yuh 
 Red for bustin into the jail an unhobblin Lenton, 
 an Tom for helpin Red an arson." 
 
334 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Arson ! " Tom repeated blankly. " Who s he this 
 Arson?" 
 
 " Arson ain t a feller, she s only law language for 
 burnin up anythin . They seem to think Tom set fire 
 to his barn so s to keep folks away from the calaboose." 
 
 "The id jits!" exclaimed Red, irritated to learn that 
 Farewell was capable of coordinated thought. " The 
 idjits!" 
 
 " That s what I told Kansas," said Bert Kinzie, look 
 ing steadily at Red, " but he s sort o got the notion you 
 two gents are in Flipup." 
 
 " I wonder why." 
 
 " He seems to think you d do anythin to clear Lenton 
 of that murder charge, an Flipup is shore the likeliest 
 place to begin." 
 
 " Yeah." Red scratched his chin. " Ain t he the li l 
 hellion? " he muttered. 
 
 " Course, he couldn t take yuh back with him, but he 
 didn t figger on no trouble about havin yuh held till he 
 could extradite yuh. He wasn t feelin none too good 
 at havin to arrest yuh, I ll say that for him. But yuh 
 know Kansas. The silver star means a lot to him. 
 Well, when I heard all I needed to know, I borrowed a 
 fresh hoss an slid out early in the mornin on the back 
 trail, an I guess Kansas musta suspicioned somethin 
 cause he drifts out, too, an I seen him a-humpin after 
 me maybe a couple o miles back. I got fieldglasses, and 
 I could tell it s him. You better believe I rode. I outrun 
 him to Flipup all right, but I lost one lot of time before I 
 found out which trail yuh took out o town. Lucky they 
 wasn t nobody else takin that trail or I d a lost yore 
 tracks at the fork. My Gawd, I was in a sweat, cause I 
 knowed Kansas wouldn t lose no time, an he ain t no 
 slouch of a trailer himself. Well, I gotta be siftin along 
 back to Sparksburg." 
 
 He arose and stretched his arms crackingly. 
 
A Pleasant Evening 335 
 
 " Just out o spite now, Bert," said Red Kane. " I ll 
 do you a good turn some day. I guess me n Tom are a 
 heap obliged to yuh." 
 
 " That s all right. No call to be obliged. Didn t you 
 head off Skinner from drillin me? Well then, whatcha 
 talkin about?" 
 
 " Just a shake, Bert. Who swore out them war 
 rants?" 
 
 " Buck Saylor, Lumley an Billy Bruff." 
 
 " Why you lookin so happy ? " Tom demanded sav 
 agely of his brother. " You might Look at him ! 
 Look at the poor fool, Bert! He s laughin ! He s 
 laughin fit to split ! " 
 
 " Who wouldn t laugh," chortled Red, pounding his 
 leg in glee. "Buck Saylor! Of course it would be 
 Buck. I might a guessed it. Buck Saylor shore ex 
 plains a lot o things." 
 
 " Then s pose you explain a few," snapped Tom. " I d 
 just like to know what s what, bein s I m like to be ar 
 rested most any time now." 
 
 " Wait till I work her all out. Yo re takin Hudson to 
 Farewell, ain t yuh, Bert? " 
 
 " Shore. He ll have to go there first before goin back 
 to Marysville." 
 
 "In a hurry?" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " We d take it as a favor, if yuh d use up two weeks 
 gettin to Farewell. How about it? " 
 
 " Shore. What s two weeks between friends? Any- 
 thin else?" 
 
 "If yuh could manage to see he stays in Farewell a 
 week before he s sent south, it would give us a li l more 
 time in case in case just in case." 
 
 " Gawd he knows what yo re drivin at, Red, I don t. 
 But I ll do my best to have Hudson stay in Farewell a 
 week. Look out for Kansas now. He s one perseverin 
 
336 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 gent in pants, an yuh can put down a bet on that. So 
 long." 
 
 Tom Kane watched Bert Kinzie mount his horse and 
 ride away. Then he sat back on his heels, drew a long 
 breath and opened his mouth. 
 
 " Don t say it," urged his brother. " This ain t no 
 time to be humorous." 
 
 " Humorous! " exploded Tom. " Humorous! Which 
 you make me so hot I could feed you wolf-pisen ! Of all 
 the damfools I ever see yo re shore the damfoolest! 
 You an yore bright li l plan for turnin Ben Lenton loose 
 has got us in a fine tangle, a fi-ine tangle. Oh, yes, says 
 you, it ll work out all same fallin off a log, but you didn t 
 say the log might be standin straight up an they might 
 be ropes round our necks to keep us from fallin too far. 
 No, you didn t say nothin about that. Not a word. I 
 s pose you thought that crowd o hard-ridin Flipup folks 
 was somethin to laugh at, huh ? Well, it didn t tickle me, 
 not a solitary tickle. An " 
 
 "Aw, whatsa matter with yuh?" interrupted Red. 
 " You act as if yore neck was the only neck in the world." 
 
 " I still gotta see the neck I d like better," countered 
 Tom. " An I m aimin to keep it fit to breathe through. 
 An I got a business in Farewell, too. Maybe you ve for 
 got that. How m I gonna go back ? How s either of us 
 gonna go back, I d like to know? Can t yuh do nothin 
 but sit there like a fatheaded mud-turtle an snicker? 
 This here is serious, you saddle-galled idjit, serious." 
 
 " Shore, she s serious," admitted Red. " I can see 
 that." 
 
 " Oh, you can, huh? You see they s somethin in this, 
 do yuh? That s fine, that is. Might I ask, if she ain t 
 too much, now that yuh see we re out on a limb an the 
 bear a-waitin , what yo re gonna do about it? " 
 
 " You can ask," said Red, inhaling the smoke of a 
 cigarette with a placidity that made Tom yearn to smite 
 
A Pleasant Evening 337 
 
 him. " You can do that, of course. But why worry, 
 Tom ? Why worry ? " 
 
 " Why worry? Why worry? " 
 
 "Shore, ain t I here?" 
 
 " An I wish you was some ers else, an had stayed 
 there ten years an was countin on stayin ten years 
 longer. I ain t got the words to tell you what I think 
 o yuh." 
 
 " Don t try. Yuh might choke. Listen an stop 
 cussin . Yo re beginnin to repeat yoreself anyhow, so 
 yuh might s well Listen, will yuh ? They ain t no 
 danger of our not callin the turn. Get that through 
 yore thick head an be happy." 
 
 " Howja know that? " Tom demanded unbelievingly. 
 
 " Well, we might have one chance in twenty o losin ," 
 qualified Red. "But what s one in twenty? Why, no 
 risk at all. I ll get us out o this too easy. Leave it to 
 me, cowboy, leave it to me." 
 
 " Huh ! Might a knowed yuh didn t know what yuh 
 was talkin about. Leave it to you! Ain t I been a- 
 leavin it to you, an look what s happened. Look what s 
 happened ! " 
 
 " Yo re millin again. Sign yo re gettin old or losin 
 yore peanut of a mind or somethin . Listen, I got a 
 plan." 
 
 "Another one!" 
 
 " Shore. I " 
 
 " You n me are gonna part right here. Plans ! Plans ! 
 Plans! You don t introduce me to no more plans, not 
 while I got my health ! " 
 
 " Si down an shut up. I tell yuh I got four aces an* 
 a joker that ll back them warrants plumb off the table in 
 to the stove." 
 
 Tom sat. 
 
 " It don t sound possible," Tom said musingly. 
 
338 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " It is possible," flared Red. " Can t yuh see how it 
 is?" 
 
 " I didn t mean that. What bogs me down is how yuh 
 puzzled her all out thataway. You don t look like yuh 
 got brains. Still, yuh can t never tell Leggo ! Leggo ! 
 What yuh try in to do sprain my ankle? Stop foolin , 
 will yuh? They s Skinner a-hollerin . What s he 
 want?" 
 
 " Stop yore yowlin ," Red commanded crossly, his 
 fingers busy with the knots in Skinner s bonds. 
 
 " I guess you d yowl, too," snarled Skinner. " You 
 jiggers tied me down right over a ant-hill, an the ants are 
 riotin all up an down my back. Somethin crawled into 
 my ear too." 
 
 " Don t yuh care it ll crawl out soon s it finds out 
 
 where it is. An the sun s near down, an then the ants ll 
 go home to bed, so yuh really got nothin to bother yuh 
 a-tall. Yo re shore the most peevish party I ever see. 
 There, yo re loose. Sit up an be happy. Here s the 
 makin s." 
 
 " I d a whole lot rather have a pair of pants," fretted 
 Skinner, nevertheless taking the proffered tobacco and 
 papers. " Ain t you got even a pair of overalls in yore 
 warbags ? " 
 
 " Lordy no. What yuh take us for drygoods 
 stores?" 
 
 " I might as well be naked, gents. My underclo es is 
 all tore an wore to frazzles." 
 
 " Don t apologize," Red told him kindly. " Tom an 
 me don t mind." 
 
 " I ain t apologizin ," denied the aggrieved Skinner, 
 shaking a frowsy head. " But I don t like livin like 
 Adam nohow too many gnats." 
 
 " They s that wrapper an sunbonnet. What more yuh 
 want? Lookit, if you say pants again, yuh don t get no 
 more smokin . You got a shirt on, a good shirt, an , if 
 
A Pleasant Evening 339 
 
 you sit down cross-legged, it ll cover up most o yuh, an 
 then the gnats won t have quite such a picnic." 
 
 " Why shouldn t they have a picnic ? " Tom queried 
 meaningly. 
 
 "That s so," said Red. "I never thought o that. 
 Them gnats are shore gonna be a help. Skinner, take 
 off yore shirt." 
 
 But Skinner would not, so they incontinently worried 
 him out of it. Now, reduced anew to desperation and his 
 nether garments, he would have donned the despised cal 
 ico wrapper. But this they would not allow. 
 
 Skinner gloomily flung grass and green branches on the 
 fire for the purpose of creating a smudge and squatted 
 down to choke and splutter in the rolling coils of smoke. 
 Tom, a Winchester across his knees, kept an eye on 
 Skinner. 
 
 " Smudge don t keep off all them gnats, does it ? " Red 
 observed cheerfully as Skinner slapped and slapped again 
 the outlying regions of his anatomy. "If you was thin 
 ner now, you wouldn t mind em so much. They say 
 they s no feelin in bone. Must be kind o smothery set- 
 tin there in all that smoke. I don t guess it s real good 
 for the lungs. Lordy, Skinner, yuh sound just like a 
 drum when yuh crack yoreself thataway. Can yuh beat 
 the long roll, I wonder ? Yuh can t ? Well, it don t mat 
 ter. Gnats gettin thicker, huh? They will with night 
 comin on. Yo re due to be one busy li l feller, Skinner. 
 About that question now Who was it killed Dick Len- 
 ton?" 
 
 Skinner clamped a stubborn jaw, turned his back and 
 slapped away. 
 
 " You ll get tired o that after a while," continued the 
 drawling voice. " Them gnats are shore active. Tom, 
 I don t guess we ll have to use the knife on him after all." 
 
 " No," replied Tom with a serious face. " I guess 
 not." 
 
34 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " An how," pursued Red, turning back to Skinner, 
 " did Bill Doran come to get Dick Lenton s shotgun ? " 
 
 There was no reply from Skinner. 
 
 " Listen here," Red went on persuasively, " Fm flat- 
 f ootin my bets on you, Skinner. When I seen that shot 
 gun, I kind o thought Bill Doran could help me out. 
 But Flipup spoiled that, an you was elected again. Skin 
 ner, you ain t gonna blight my young life by keepin yore 
 face shut forever, are yuh? Shake yore head for No.* 
 Stubborn stubborn s a mule, an gittin a sull on, too. 
 Tom, I ll match yuh for first watch." 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE 
 
 SKINNER IS REASONED WITH 
 
 IT may be said that Skinner passed a bad night. The 
 gnats seemed to become thicker and more active as the 
 hours dragged on. Red-eyed and bitten in more places 
 than he cared to think about, Skinner saw the sun rise 
 clear. It promised a fine day, a most glorious day, but 
 there was no joy in the heart of Skinner. He looked 
 upon the form of the sleeping Tom and ground his teeth. 
 Red looked upon Skinner and closed one eye. 
 
 " Yuh know, Skinner," he remarked in a casual tone, 
 " I d tell who killed Dick Lenton if I was you." 
 
 The reply was a curse to be precise, three curses. 
 But these lacked spontaneity. Observing which and the 
 haggard weariness of Skinner s expression, Red was 
 moved to grin. 
 
 " Lordy," he drawled, " them li l gnats must a been 
 right busy last night. You look sort of blistery in spots 
 a whole lot of spots. Wait till the sun strikes em, 
 old settler. You ll shore wish you d been a better boy." 
 
 "You ll gimme my shirt back, won t yuh?" Skinner 
 asked uneasily. 
 
 " Not to-day nor yet to-morrow. The day after, 
 maybe. I ll have to think about it." 
 
 " But I tore my undershirt all down the back last night 
 tryin to get at one o them gnats," wailed Skinner, aghast 
 at the prospect. " I gotta wear somethin . Gimme that 
 calico wrapper; I ll wear that." 
 
 " You won t even wear the sunbonnet, Skinner." 
 
Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " But I can t go round this way alia time ! " Skinner s 
 red eyes fairly popped with dismay. 
 
 " Oh, alia time is somethin else again. We re talkin 
 about now. But I ll tell yuh what, feller, if yore troubles 
 get too hard, I ll let yuh wear that calico wrapper an sun- 
 bonnet." 
 
 Anon they proceeded. But without haste. As Red 
 confided to Skinner, " We got all the time they is." 
 Which was no doubt why in the course of the morning 
 they traveled consecutively north, east, south and west. 
 
 " This sun is killin me," moaned Skinner. " Why yuh 
 got to follow these dry washes alia time? They s some 
 shade over there by them trees. Why can t we go that 
 way? An where yuh goin anyway? We ain t done 
 nothin since sun-up but head first this way an then that 
 way like lost tender Ouch ! " 
 
 The exclamation was called forth by Skinner s inad 
 vertently resting a sunburned forearm on the brass horn 
 of his saddle. 
 
 " Horn kind o hot, huh? " drawled Red. " It would 
 be. Lordy, man, yo re red as the brand on a Wild Rose 
 tomatter can. When them li l gnat jiggers come scat- 
 terin over yuh tonight, you ll have a party." 
 
 " Yo re torturin me," declared Skinner. 
 
 " Never a torture. We wouldn t torture yuh. Ain t 
 I told yuh we wouldn t? You can take my word. It s 
 them gnats an the sunshine. We can t help it if them 
 gnats think yo re good to eat. It ain t our fault if they 
 don t know no better. An we can t help the sun, can 
 we?" 
 
 " You can gimme a shirt or that wrapper ! " cried the 
 goaded Skinner, trembling in the saddle with varied emo 
 tions. 
 
 " Now that s just what we can t do," said Red 
 warmly. " Can we, Tom? " 
 
 " Lordy, no ! it wouldn t be right nohow." 
 
Skinner is Reasoned With 343 
 
 " So that s how it is, Skinner. Neither Tom nor me 
 sees how we can help yuh out without yuh tell us what we 
 wanna know about Dick Lenton s killer, an also how Bill 
 Doran come to have Dick Lenton s shotgun. We gotta 
 know them things, Skinner. We just gotta, an yuh can 
 stick a pin in that." 
 
 Skinner stiffened a sore back and gazed straight ahead. 
 Red winked at Tom. 
 
 " He s weakenin ," he said in a half-whisper. 
 
 " I ain t ! " yapped Skinner. " I ll never tell ! " 
 
 " Root hog or die, feller, root hog or die. Who killed 
 Dick Lenton ? Was it you or Lumley or Bruff or Usher ? 
 Who done it?" 
 
 Skinner gritted his teeth and clenched his hands. His 
 nerve was not yet shattered. 
 
 " That wrapper," observed Red, " would shore keep 
 some o the sun off. So would the sunbonnet. Does 
 the back of yore neck hurt, Skinner? I wonder is he in 
 danger o sunstroke, Tom. Whadda yuh think?" 
 
 " Not so long s we keep movin he ain t." 
 
 A remarkably tough bird was Skinner. 
 
 He did not weaken throughout that long hot summer 
 day. When they stopped to camp for the night, he dis 
 mounted with a painful stiffness that would have been 
 pitiable in a less reprehensible member of society. As it 
 was, Red nodded approvingly. Another day or two, he 
 decided, would call the turn and call it correctly. Tom 
 was not so sanguine. Skinner was displaying uncommon 
 fortitude. The pain of his bites and burns must have 
 been agonizing. 
 
 Red had chosen the camp site with admirable discrim 
 ination. The gnats were present in clouds. They fell 
 upon the puffy Skinner with promptitude and avidity. 
 They even proved annoying to Red and Tom. 
 
 That night Skinner endeavored to run away. Red, on 
 guard that watch, let him run. This greatly to the sur- 
 
344 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 prise of Skinner, who had expected to be shot at. A 
 moment later Skinner, bounding like a frightened coy 
 ote under the pale light of the dry new moon, dashed 
 into a patch of what appeared to be high grass but was 
 really a dense and healthy growth of young briars. 
 
 A sinuous tendril as thick as a lead pencil and armed 
 with thorns by the dozen wrapped itself round the ankle 
 of Skinner and jerked him down. Oh, it was then that 
 he yelled and swore and floundered. 
 
 Red, strolling up a moment later, seized him by the 
 hair and yanked him out of that. Skinner, sore, 
 scratched, his skin a living fire, aching in every bone, sat 
 up and blinked at Red. 
 
 "Thought I wasn t watchin yuh, didn t yuh?" ob 
 served Red, his hands folded over the muzzle of his Win 
 chester. You poor idjit, whadda yuh guess I sat down 
 by that bullsap an began to nod for? Just so yuh d try 
 to pull yore freight. Knowed yuh would. Knowed 
 yuh d run this way. Only way open for yuh to run. 
 An these briars so nice an handy. Funny yuh didn t no 
 tice em like I done while we was makin camp." 
 
 Slowly two great fat tears oozed from Skinner s eyes 
 and furrowed their way down his dirty cheeks. With a 
 grunting cry he flopped over on his side, hid his face in 
 his hands and began to sob. 
 
 It is no pleasant thing to witness the weeping of a man 
 even such a man as Skinner. Red sucked in his un 
 der-lip, his brows drawing together. He would have 
 preferred to be merciful, but there are times when mercy 
 is out of place. This was one of those times. He called 
 to his sleeping brother. 
 
 Between them they dragged the now hysterical Skinner 
 back to camp. They tied him to a tree and soused him 
 with many hatfuls of water. 
 
 " Now or never," said Red when Skinner showed signs 
 of emerging from his emotional paroxysm. " If he don t 
 
Skinner is Reasoned With 345 
 
 snitch now after all he s gone through, he s a howlin wiz 
 ard." 
 
 " Which he ain t," declared Tom. " Hop to it." 
 
 Red sank down on one heel in front of the bound man. 
 The thin moonlight slanted across Skinner s face and 
 body. He was a most unlovely object. 
 
 " Skinner," said Red, " who killed Dick Lenton? " 
 
 Skinner merely rolled his eyes. Red repeated the 
 question. Skinner dropped his chin forward on his 
 breast. His lumpy jaw-muscles hardened. Monoto 
 nously Red repeated the question. But never a word said 
 Skinner. Till Red s throat became dry and his voice 
 husky, he put the question to Skinner at ten-second inter 
 vals. Then he gave way to Tom. When Tom tired, 
 Red took on the job again. Still Skinner held out. 
 
 Suddenly Red changed his line of questioning. 
 
 " Skinner," said he, " tell me how Art Teller got hold 
 of Dick Lenton s three-diamond ring?" 
 
 Skinner came alive with a jerk. 
 
 " Say say that again ! " he cried. 
 
 " Tell me how Art Teller come to get Dick Lenton s 
 three-diamond ring." 
 
 " How d yuh know Art s got it ? " 
 
 "He ain t got it. He had it. I took it off him. 
 Here it is. Ever see it before? " 
 
 Red, having extracted the ring from the inner pocket 
 where it lay, held it up between his thumb and forefinger. 
 The moonshine struck tiny sparks of greenish fire from 
 the three diamonds. 
 
 Skinner s puffed eyes glowered at the ring. He 
 gulped. He gulped again. Then he cursed Art Teller 
 with passionate intensity. He likewise cursed several 
 other people, of whom presently. 
 
 " He told me that ring was lost, the lousy liar! " de 
 clared Skinner at the tail of his tirade. 
 
 " Who told you? " Red asked quickly. 
 
346 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 "That rat Teller! Who do yuh s pose? He skun 
 me out o that ring ! It was gonna be my share ! " Thus 
 Mr. Skinner in part. Most of his remarks were unprint 
 able. 
 
 Red tucked away the ring, squatted down on his heel 
 and awaited the end in patience. When it came, he said 
 gently : 
 
 " You might tell the rest of it, Skinner. You ve done 
 pretty well already." 
 
 " Gimme a drink an that female wrapper an slack off 
 this rope that s cuttin me in half, an I will," bargained 
 Skinner. " Skun me, the dirty skunk ! I ll show him ! 
 My Gawd," he added, as Red eased off a turn, " my Gawd, 
 what a relief ! " 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 THE REAPER 
 
 MR. ART TELLER, dozing in the shade of a neatly built 
 cabin at the back of a high ridge, snapped wide-awake of 
 a sudden. Was that the crackle of dry brush ? He won 
 dered. He got up quietly, slid into the cabin and recon- 
 noitered the forest from the back window. He saw 
 nothing. The peace of ages was over the landscape. 
 He waited five minutes. Then, hearing nothing, he re 
 turned to the outer air and the muzzle of a six-shooter. 
 Red Kane was behind that muzzle. 
 
 Art Teller thrust both hands aloft without being told. 
 Red ordered his victim to face about and separated him 
 from his weapons. 
 
 " We meet again," said Red Kane. " Next time, 
 Arthur, when you hear a funny noise off in the woods, 
 you d better make trail without waitin a second. You 
 did hear a funny noise in the woods, didn t yuh ? That 
 was Tom playin tricks on yuh. Here he comes now." 
 
 "Who s that with him a woman? What why, 
 it s Skinner ! He s snitched ! He s snitched on me ! " 
 
 " You hadn t oughta held out the ring on him, Artie. 
 That wasn t square. That was tinhorn work an one big 
 mistake. Whadda yuh know about Skinner that the 
 sheriff would like to know? He snitched on you, Artie. 
 Now you snitch on him. What could be fairer than 
 that?" 
 
 Red beamed expansively upon Art Teller. The latter 
 glowered. He shifted his feet. Red, realizing that 
 
348 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Teller was a wily and resourceful person, stepped back a 
 yard. 
 
 " I wouldn t," he advised gently. " Yo re quick, but 
 you ain t quick enough. I just wouldn t. Was 
 you gonna tell me anythin about Skinner? " 
 
 " Lots o time for that," said Art Teller, a convulsive 
 tremor rippling across his wizened face. " Later I might 
 tell yuh a lot." 
 
 " Any time, any time." 
 
 " Can I put my hands down now. You got my gun, 
 an my elbows hurt." 
 
 " Take em down. I m watchin yuh." 
 
 Arrived then Tom Kane and the wrappered Skinner. 
 Art Teller did not curse Skinner. He merely stood and 
 glared at him. The landlord promptly began to swear 
 and call Teller names. 
 
 " You measly Judas," said Teller, lifting his right hand 
 and slowly scratching the angle of his jaw, " whadda yuh 
 think yo re gettin out o this? " 
 
 " Never you mind," said Skinner triumphantly. " I 
 ain t gonna be hung anyway." 
 
 At the tail of the words Art Teller s hand, the one that 
 had been so innocently rubbing his jaw, flashed to the 
 back of his neck and flashed forward again with equal, 
 uncanny speed. Followed a twinkle in the air, a whir, a 
 cough, and Skinner was down, a ten-inch bowie transfix 
 ing his throat. 
 
 It must not be supposed that in the above situation Red 
 remained idle. He was quick, but the knife-haft had left 
 Art Teller s hand the veriest fraction of a second before 
 Red s bullet shattered the bones of the palm. 
 
 Art Teller sat down calmly on a bench beside the cabin 
 door. He held his right wrist with his left hand and 
 gazed with satisfaction upon Skinner sobbing his life 
 away on the grass. 
 
 " Takin the knife out won t help him any," sneered 
 
The Reaper 349 
 
 Art Teller. " He said he wouldn t be hung, an I guess 
 for once he spoke the truth. Judas ! " 
 
 Art Teller lifted his upper lip and spat upon the ground. 
 Willingly Tom could have killed him where he sat. 
 Skinner, the star witness, indeed the only one willing 
 to give evidence before a court, dying! In two minutes 
 he would be dead. But there Tom was at fault. Skin 
 ner lasted out three and a half. 
 
 Tom he had been kneeling beside Skinner got 
 slowly to his feet. He planted his hands on his hips and 
 gazed balefully and contemptuously at his brother. 
 
 " I don t guess now," he said with scorn, " you ever 
 heard of a gent packin a bowie under the back of his vest. 
 Yo re the sport who yawped his head off cause Hollister 
 hid out a derringer on me, ain t yuh? Ain t yuh, huh? 
 An here yuh let this jigger keep a ten-inch knife right 
 where he can get at it handiest. An look what he done 
 with it! This is a fine note! " 
 
 Red, contrite and inwardly castigating himself for a 
 purblind fool, attempted no excuses. In silence he 
 washed, plugged and bandaged Art Teller s wounded 
 hand. When he had completed the task and stepped 
 back, Art Teller lifted up his pale eyes, an unpleasant grin 
 on his wizened face. 
 
 " I s pose you was gonna use Skinner for a witness," 
 said he. " Sort o figurin on that, wasn t yuh ? Yeah, 
 I guess you was. Well, you won t make me do no talkin 
 the way yuh made that snitch of a Skinner." 
 
 " Won t we?" said Red. " That s shore tough. 
 Have to do the best we can without yuh, I expect." 
 
 " An that won t be much." 
 
 "Won t it? Outside of yore bein stretched a-plenty, 
 looks like you win, don t it ? " 
 
 Art Teller grunted and spat. The prospect of the rope 
 did not seem to feaze him. His was a hardened soul. 
 
 They spent the remainder of the day and that night at 
 
350 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 the cabin. For the horses required rest, and there was 
 excellent feed in the mountain meadow between the cabin 
 and the forest. 
 
 Supper s bacon and coffee disposed of, Art Teller was 
 roped to his bunk for the night and the brothers lay 
 down on the grass beyond ear-shot of the cabin, there to 
 smoke and wrangle whisperingly. 
 
 " An we was bettin on Skinner to get us shut o this 
 muss," snarled Tom, pinching out a half-smoked ciga 
 rette. " Now we gotta go to work all over again on this 
 jigger." 
 
 " An this jigger s a different breed o dog. He ain t 
 soft like Skinner. I guess now Brad made a mistake 
 when he said Teller would be more meachin than Square- 
 Face Higby. Meachin ! The way he slung that knife 
 wasn t meachin nohow. I m tellin yuh, Tom, unless we 
 treat Teller to a two-legged dose of warwhoop big medi 
 cine he won t talk. Me, I thought I could manage that 
 all right if I had to, but after watchin Skinner an them 
 gnats, I m free to admit I know I can t. So " 
 
 " Yeah. Well? " prompted Tom. 
 
 Red did not immediately reply. He rolled over on his 
 back and looked up at the stars of the evening a- wink 
 above the mountains. 
 
 " I ll tell yuh," he said after a space, " Skinner would 
 a been a help. I ain t denyin it. But we can manage 
 without him." 
 
 "We! We! Which yo re takin too much for 
 granted. I dunno nothin about no we whatever. 
 Yo re a-doin this. You can have all the credit, yuh 
 betcha. I m free to admit the closer I get to that war 
 rant the less I m shore yore scheme without Skinner is 
 any good." 
 
 " You gotta admit even without him my plan s got its 
 points." 
 
 " So has a cow s horns, a paper o pins an a barb-wire 
 
The Reaper 351 
 
 fence. Speakin personal, yore scheme reminds me 
 mostly o 5 the fence. We re snagged so good an plenty." 
 
 " Aw, shut up ! You act like it was all my fault ! 
 S pose we are arrested. They can t hold us very long." 
 
 " Very long ! Very long ! Great Goddlemighty ! 
 Can t hold us very long! Them s the very words the 
 lawyer sharp told the jigger in jail, an the poor chunk 
 got twenty year! Nemmine argufyin ! I m through 
 listenin to you! Bad luck! Nothin but! First the 
 warrant, an now Skinner. Aw right, aw right, g on. 
 You can t make me think no different, but I ll listen if 
 it does yuh any good." 
 
 Red did his utmost to convince his brother that Skin 
 ner s demise did not necessarily signify the upsetting of 
 their apple-cart. But stubborn as one of his own mules 
 was Tom, a very Covenanter in his convictions. He re 
 mained pessimistic no matter what Red said. Even 
 Red s taking the first watch out of turn left him cold. 
 
 Red entered the cabin and inspected with a hard eye 
 Mr. Teller and his fastenings. He came out, picked up 
 his rifle, levered home a cartridge and carefully lowered 
 the hammer to the safety notch. 
 
 He slumped down on the grass near Tom and began 
 to play one-handed mumblypeg without the peg. Hav 
 ing successfully three consecutive times tossed " Jack-in- 
 the-blanket " he made no move to pluck the knife out of 
 the ground, but sat looking at it with a set and serious 
 face. A wrinkle of worry creased the skin between his 
 eyebrows. Then he scowled at nothing and spoke in a 
 low voice. 
 
 " What yuh swearin for?" queried the mildly sur 
 prised Tom. 
 
 " I m gettin nervous." 
 
 Tom s mild surprise changed abruptly to amazement. 
 Never in his life had he heard Red talk like that and in 
 that tone. 
 
352 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " Whadda yuh mean by nervous, an nervous o 
 what?" 
 
 " Dot Lenton." 
 
 " Maybe she ll give yuh the mitten after all," Tom said 
 hopefully. 
 
 " Don t look on the bright side so hard/ snarled Red. 
 " I ain t worryin none about that. It s Brad Usher an 
 that sheriff an his man." 
 
 " Didn t yuh tell her to watch herself an stay round 
 town all she could ? Didn t yuh tell Telescope to pass the 
 word to Jake " 
 
 " Natur-ally. I ain t a complete fool. You heard me 
 tell Telescope yoreself. But she s venturesome, Tom. 
 She ll think it s her duty to look after the ranch an the 
 horses while her old man s away, an she ll do it an 
 them three devils wouldn t want a better chance than 
 that." 
 
 " They wouldn t have the gall to touch her not in 
 Fort Creek County. Which they d be lynched so high 
 the eagles would build nests in their whiskers." 
 
 " Remember Cutnose Canter an Rime Tolliver 
 over at Mocassin Spring on Soogan Creek. They didn t 
 think nothin of no lynchin . I d like to know what 
 would a happened to jane Dale if Chuck Morgan hadn t 
 arrove when he did." 
 
 " Nothin like Why, lookit Dot can look out 
 for herself, that girl. Jane Dale was a Easterner from 
 Kansas. Dot Lenton is a old-timer in this country, an 
 don t you forget it. She s safe. Besides, them hosses of 
 ours can t go no farther without eight hours rest, if that s 
 what yo re thinkin about." 
 
 " S pose now she s in trouble," Red persisted doggedly. 
 
 " Say, yo re stewin up all of a sudden, seems to me. 
 You didn t " 
 
 " It just struck me all of a heap like, Tom. I I keep 
 thinkin they s somethin up. I dunno why. But I do." 
 
The Reaper 353 
 
 " Feel it in yore bones, huh ? " 
 
 " Sort of, yeah." 
 
 " I knowed it. You got the rheumatics. That s 
 what you got. Like Uncle Jake an the Minie ball he got 
 in his leg a-fightin with Pap Price s Arkansawyers. He 
 was always prophesyin rain by the way the leg hurt, an 
 he was wrong as the leg was nine times out o ten. So 
 you got no cause to get all sweated up. Most likely 
 yo re wrong, too. What yuh rarin about now? Ain t 
 I tryin to cheer yuh up? Aw right, then, if yuh wanna 
 go on the prod, go on the prod some ers away from me an 
 lemme sleep." 
 
 Much to the disgust of Tom, Red insisted on an early 
 start. 
 
 " If we pull our freight too fast an soon," protested 
 Tom, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, 
 " we ll get there before Bill an Bert do." 
 
 " It don t matter none," Red told him decisively. 
 " We re goin home just as fast as our hosses can last it." 
 
 It is unnecessary to detail the ride north. Suffice it to 
 say that they pushed their horses to the utmost and, save 
 in one instance when Red made a solitary detour to Dam 
 son and Blossom on the railroad, avoided inhabited places. 
 They made more than one dry camp, and at the last were 
 reduced for rations to the squirrel pine, red and 
 ground. This last to the disrelish of Mr. Teller. 
 
 " I don t mind so much bein glommed on to thisaway," 
 he stated, having picked clean the frame of a fat piney. 
 " I been arrested before, so that s all right, but I don t 
 care nothin about grubbin on chipmunks, none whatever. 
 Which if I gotta eat any more o these tree-climbin mice, 
 I ll shore begin a-chatterin an a-growin fur." 
 
 They wasted no sympathy on the peevish Mr. Teller, 
 but whisked him north with the briskest haste. 
 
 On an evening Jimmie, the Bar S cook, was mixing 
 bread for the night s setting and singing that mournful- 
 
354 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 cst of songs, " The Mormon Bishop s Lament ", when 
 there came a scratching at the cook-shack s open door. 
 Instantly Jimmie ceased his wailing and cocked a listen 
 ing ear. 
 
 " It s me, Red," whispered a familiar voice. 
 "Where s Telescope?" 
 
 " C mon in," Jimmie urged. " I can t leave this bread. 
 They s nobody here, only me." 
 
 " I m doin fine outside," was the cautious response. 
 " You never know who s snoopin round. Tell me where 
 Telescope is ? " 
 
 " Don t you know they s a warrant out for you an 
 Tom too? An " 
 
 " Shore. I know all that. I read the papers every day. 
 Where s Telescope? How many times yuh want me to 
 ask yuh?" 
 
 " He s in the bunk-house. Lookit here, Red, what 
 yuh aimin to do? They s a posse out after yuh an 
 every thin ." 
 
 " Ain t that awful. I m scared to death. Hear me 
 shiver. Go an get Telescope for me, will yuh, an keep 
 yore trap shut? " 
 
 " I don t blat," was the huffy return. " I ain t no sheep. 
 I guess I got some sense. We re all with yuh anyway. 
 Shucks, what if yuh did turn Lenton loose? It was fine 
 business, an them squirts from Rock County got what 
 was comin . Say, wasn t they hot? I should say so. 
 Rarin an hollerin round what they was gonna do to yuh 
 when they caught yuh. Oh, they was wild as a nest o 
 rattlers. Aw, I m goin , I m goin . Bread s all ready to 
 set. Just a shake till I cover her. Yes, sir," pursued 
 Jimmie, warming anew to his subject, " that Sheriff Lum- 
 ley man was mad enough to chew nails. But he hadn t 
 no manner o business or right arrestin that girl." 
 
 At this a whirlwind burst into the kitchen and a cant- 
 hook grip clutched Jimmie by the shoulder. 
 
The Reaper 355 
 
 " What s that you said ? " demanded a terrible voice. 
 
 Jimmie twisted his head to face two blazing eyes. 
 
 " You rousy idjit! " he cried. " I didn t arrest her! " 
 
 Thus recalled to himself Red let go and stood back. 
 
 " Get Telescope ! " he said harshly. 
 
 Red, seething inwardly with the knowledge of what 
 had happened to Dot, followed the cook outdoors and sat 
 down on the wash-bench. His ringers closed down and 
 clenched on the edge of the two-inch board that formed 
 the seat. Dot Lenton arrested! Jammed into the cala 
 boose like a horse thief ! He felt a turbulent horror, a 
 biting rage such as one feels who witnesses the profaning 
 of a high altar. 
 
 Indeed, for that matter, she was his high altar, his god 
 dess, his sign and symbol of all things good and beauti 
 ful. 
 
 " Git a-hold of yoreself , you pop-eyed coot ! " he told 
 himself through clamped teeth. " This ain t no time to 
 blow up! No time a-tall! If she s arrested, you ll need 
 all yore fool brains, every last brain ! " 
 
 From the bunk-house then came Telescope and Jimmie. 
 Red, taking with him the half-breed, promptly faded into 
 the darkness. Jimmie retired to the cook-shack and an 
 grily put to soak the morning s beans. 
 
 " They needn t have rushed off thataway," he muttered, 
 retying the sack. " I wasn t gonna listen." 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE 
 
 THE BARGAIN 
 
 JAKE RULE,, sheriff of Fort Creek County, sat in his 
 home at Farewell and gnawed his nether lip. He always 
 gnawed the said lip when worry and the well-known 
 carking care oppressed his being. At present he was 
 very much oppressed. The governor of the Territory 
 had written him a letter stating in the most courteous of 
 phraseology that as a sheriff he was no thief-catcher. 
 The governor failed to understand why nothing had been 
 done to make burglary and stage-robbing a risky means 
 of livelihood. The governor viewed with alarm the 
 amazing lethargy obtaining among the duly constituted 
 officers of the law. The governor begged to be permitted 
 to point out that, while no sheriff had as yet been removed 
 from office by reason of incompetency, it could be done. 
 The above were, in part, the remarks of the governor. 
 
 Jake Rule knew that he and his deputy had done their 
 human best to uphold the law and lay by the heels the 
 transgressors thereof. But the governor was the gov 
 ernor, and he undoubtedly could separate Jake Rule and 
 his well-paid office. Fifteen cents per mile was the mile 
 age allowed, and expense vouchers were never questioned 
 by the complaisant treasurer. 
 
 Jake gloomily shifted his chew and shot an accurate 
 stream of tobacco juice into the cuspidor. He did not 
 know what to do, and it was necessary that something be 
 done and quickly. 
 
 Sounded a rapping upon the door and, when the door 
 was opened, there stood Telescope. 
 
The Bargain 357 
 
 " Mornin , Sher f," said the half-breed, and he looked 
 meaningly at the door opening into the kitchen. " You 
 alone? " 
 
 " Shore. The wife s gone down to the store shoes 
 for the kid or some such devilment." 
 
 Telescope entered, carefully closed the door, leaned a 
 straight back against it and hooked his thumbs in his belt. 
 
 " You wan for catch Red Kane? " he asked quietly. 
 
 The sheriff, who had resumed his seat, sprang out of 
 it nimbly. 
 
 "Where is he?" he cried, lifting down his belt and 
 six-shooter from the peg beside the ammunition com 
 pany s calendar. 
 
 " No hurry," said Laguerre, more than a hint of 
 amusement in the glint of his black eyes. " No hurry 
 tall. I deed not say w ere she was, me. I ask you was 
 you wan for catch heem." 
 
 " Is this a joke? " Severely. 
 
 " I have no time for joke. Eef you wan for catch 
 heem, you come wit me un leave you gun home." 
 
 "Huh?" 
 
 " Red wan for talk wit you fore she surrendair. 
 Mebbeso you not spleet even wit heem, mebbeso she not 
 surrendair. Eef you have not de gun, you can not stop 
 heem." 
 
 Laguerre grinned toothfully at the astounded sheriff. 
 
 :t You got a gall ! " exclaimed Jake Rule. 
 
 The half-breed shrugged his shoulders. " Tak eet or 
 leave eet," said he calmly. " You do not know w ere she 
 ees, Red Kane. You have not arrest heem. S pose you 
 talk wit him, s pose she not surrendair you lose nothin 
 you w ere you ees now. S pose she surrendair, you ween. 
 You come wit me, un you have nothin for lose un all 
 for ween." 
 
 The sheriff saw the logic in the argument. 
 
 " We-ell " he began hesitantly. 
 
358 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " You leave you gun, Sher f. Eet weel be all right. 
 I weel be wit you. Dere weel be no shootin . You are 
 safe all same as me. Red, she say so. I say so. Wat 
 more you wan dan dat ? " 
 
 " How far is the place where Red is?" probed the 
 sheriff. 
 
 " Two mile ten mile how do I know ? " parried 
 Laguerre. " I have not de tape-measure wit me." 
 
 " I ll go yuh," said Sheriff Rule. 
 
 An hour later Telescope Laguerre and Sheriff Rule 
 rode into a narrow draw beyond the western end of 
 Indian Ridge. Here, in a small cottonwood clump con 
 taining a spring, a gentleman in chaps was frying bacon. 
 He and another gentleman, the latter bound in a seated 
 posture to a cottonwood trunk, were eating the meat as 
 fast as it was cooked. 
 
 The gentleman in chaps stood up at sight of the sheriff 
 and smiled expansively. He balanced the frying-pan 
 with its sizzling contents in one hand and indicated with 
 the other the bound gentleman. 
 
 " Meet Art Teller of Flipup, Colorado, Sheriff," said 
 he. " On the seventeenth in the afternoon over near 
 Packer s Peak, this territory, he slung a knife at a gent 
 named Skinner I never did know his front handle 
 an rubbed him out. Me n Tom are the witnesses. If 
 you brought along a pair of handcuffs, I dunno but he ll 
 find em more comfortable than that rope." 
 
 The sheriff blinked at Red s machine-gun delivery of 
 the unexpected. He made no motion toward his saddle- 
 pockets. 
 
 "Where s Tom?" he asked. 
 
 " Where you won t find him," grinned Red. 
 
 " What yuh wanna talk to me about ? " Jake Rule asked 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Oh, this an that a lot o things. Have a piece o 
 bacon? ... No? Makes all the more for Art an me, 
 
The Bargain 359 
 
 then. Tell yuh what, bacon shore tastes like more when 
 yuh been livin off squirrels without salt for three-four 
 days. Last night, when I got to a salt sack, I just stuck 
 my paw in, glommed on to a handful an ate her dry-so. 
 Here, Art, old-timer, here s the f ryin -pan where you can 
 reach her." 
 
 " Gimme the makin s," snarled the amiable Art. " An 
 don t look so joyous. I ain t hung yet." 
 
 "That s so. Yo re still tied to that tree, ain t yuh? 
 Curious they s so many different ways to use a rope, 
 ain t it? Sheriff, don t yuh think throwin the rope over 
 a limb an then just haulin away is every bit as good as a 
 reg lar gallows an a five-foot drop? " 
 
 " Tryin to scare me, huh? " blared Teller, his wizened 
 face wrinkling with his best sneer. 
 
 " I didn t ride alia way out here to gas about capital 
 punishment," said the sheriff severely. "If you ve got 
 anythin to say, say it." 
 
 "Shore, shore-ly," soothed Red. "While Telescope 
 stays with Art, le s you n me go off a li l ways where the 
 atmosphere s private. Lordy "as the sheriff frowned 
 " what yuh balkin at? What can I do to yuh that I 
 couldn t a done ever since you got here?" 
 
 As if he knew that the sheriff would follow, Red 
 turned his back on him and walked out of the cotton- 
 wood clump toward a dense growth of box-elders a 
 hundred yards down the draw. Arrived at the fringe 
 of the bushes, he sat down cross-legged and built himself 
 a cigarette. 
 
 Two minutes later the sheriff rode up and dismounted. 
 You could a come along with me," said Red gently. 
 
 " I wanted to put the cuffs on the prisoner first," the 
 sheriff explained sharply. 
 
 " I didn t know whether you d take him prisoner or 
 not at first," drawled Red. "You looked kind o 
 funny at first." 
 
360 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " You can take it I m still lookin a heap funnier than 
 I feel. What s the layout?" 
 
 Red began to talk. Before he had been speaking five 
 minutes, the sheriff s boredly apathetic expression had 
 been altered to one of the liveliest interest. Red talked 
 on. Occasionally the sheriff would cut in with a question. 
 Often he would tug at his mustache and wink his eyes 
 a sure sign that he was pleased with whatever might be 
 toward. 
 
 Red ceased speaking, pulled the last drag from his 
 fourth cigarette and pinched out the stub. He did not 
 remove his eyes from the sheriff s face. 
 
 " How about it? " he asked. 
 
 " It could be done," said Jake Rule. " An then 
 again " 
 
 " I m takin that chance. But I ain t worryin . It ll 
 go through like that." 
 
 He slapped the palm of one hand with the back of the 
 other. 
 
 "Yeah?" 
 
 The sheriff pushed back his hat and scratched a griz 
 zled head. Now that the tale had ended, he no longer 
 tugged at his mustache or winked his eyes. He ap 
 peared doubtful. 
 
 " They s only one room an two cells in the jail," 
 he objected. 
 
 " Take the lady into yore own house for the night," 
 snapped Red. " She should a been there all along 
 if you had to arrest her. An I m sayin right here 
 that was one fool play." 
 
 " Speakin for myself," said the sheriff equably, " I 
 agree with yuh. But when Lumley swore out the war 
 rant I hadda serve it. You can see that." 
 
 " I know, I know. Telescope told me all about it. 
 Which it s shore healthy for Lumley an his outfit they 
 didn t bother her outside o that, but that s enough. 
 
The Bargain 361 
 
 Me n them ain t through yet not by no manner o 
 means. Take the lady into yore house, huh? What 
 say?" 
 
 "Kind o irregular." 
 
 " So s the whole deal irregular, but, if you wait to 
 do it regular, whadda you get ? You get Hollister 
 maybe. Cause in that case me n Tom are a heap 
 likely to forget a whole lot of evidence, an that won t 
 help yore case none." 
 
 " You wouldn t do that." Uncomfortably. 
 
 " Wouldn t we ? We would in a minute. An you 
 better believe that without us the evidence is a heap 
 shacklin . You do it the irregular way, Sheriff you 
 gotta remember they ain t nothin strictly illegal about 
 it an glom most o the outfit. Make a name for 
 yuh, Jake, that will. Oughta help yuh come next 
 election." 
 
 " You ll get all the credit." 
 
 "Don t you fret; I ll give you half. If anybody 
 asks me an I won t be none backward about tellin 
 em if they don t you an me worked her out between 
 us. I guess that oughta show this county the sheriff 
 ain t exactly a dumbhead mummy." 
 
 Sheriff Jake Rule glanced suspiciously at Red Kane. 
 But the latter s expression was blank to innocence. 
 The sheriff decided that Red was not, in the mention 
 of the qualified mummy, endeavoring to perpetrate a 
 blazer. 
 
 "We-ell " he hedged. 
 
 " Now lookit, Jake, if yo re balkin at the price, you 
 needn t think I dug out the inside of all this for fun. 
 When I went south to riddle out the Lenton killin , I 
 wasn t even thinkin of bringin the Farewell express 
 robbery into camp. But, now that I ve got it all ready 
 for you to run the brand on, I want what s right, an 
 yo re the gent to give it to me, yuh bet yuh." 
 
362 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 The sheriff pondered this a moment. 
 
 " Aw right," he said presently, " if it works out at 
 the hearin just like you say it will, I ll fix it up with the 
 judge about them warrants. He ll do what I tell him, I 
 guess." 
 
 : * Yes, I guess he will, seein as you got him elected." 
 
 " Alia same, it s a hold-up, Red," fiddled the sheriff. 
 Yo re a-turnin this express robbery to yore own use." 
 
 " Shore I am," Red corroborated heartily. " What 
 did yuh think I was doin with it? " 
 
 To this the sheriff could not arrange a satisfactory 
 reply. He settled his hat more firmly on his head and 
 spat upon the grass. " I guess we can do it," was his 
 heavy pronouncement. " Shore," he added, throwing out 
 his chest a trifle, " you an me, between us we can swing 
 it." 
 
 "Want me to go over it again?" inquired Red, sup 
 pressing with difficulty a quirk at the corner of his mouth. 
 
 " No." The sheriff shook his head and stood up. " I 
 got a good memory myself," he added. " Soon as they 
 get in with Hudson, I ll let you know. Naw, you bet I 
 won t forget to bring Kansas." 
 
 " We ll be there, me an Art," said Red Kane. 
 
 When the sheriff had ridden out of the draw, Tom, 
 dragging a rifle, crawled out of the box-elders within ten 
 feet of where the officer and his brother had held their 
 conversation. He joined his brother in the cotton wood 
 clump and poked him in the ribs with a hard forefinger. 
 
 " You an me/ " Tom quoted, " between us we can 
 swing it. Oh, yes, indeedy. Bright feller, li l Jakey 
 Rule is. You watch yore eye, Reddy, now you hear me 
 talkin , or you ll find yoreself turnin handsprings on yore 
 ear. Jake may shuffle the deck too much . . . Huh ? No, 
 not while I got my health, thank you most to death. I 
 told you I had my own notion about givin up. I still 
 got the notion. If anythin should happen, I wanna be 
 
The Bargain 363 
 
 where I can lay hold of a gun prompt an plenty. Yessir, 
 that s me." 
 
 " I weel stay een town," said Telescope, " un I weel 
 keep de eye peel, me. S pose dem 88 boy een town. 
 Dey weel raise hell, bien sur." 
 
 " No need for you to mix into this, Telescope," said 
 Red. " You told me comin here the 88 hadn t locked 
 horns with the Bar S on my account yet. Let em alone, 
 an it ll all damp out fine an dandy. It s me an Tom 
 they want, an they won t get me while Jake can lift a 
 gun. An Tom can take care of himself." 
 
 " Oh, shore, Tom can take care of himself," grunted 
 the gentleman in question. " Tom s got it easy. He 
 won t have nothin to do but dodge over the landscape, 
 look forty ways to once, keep out o sight an find out all 
 that s goin on in town. It s a cinch." 
 
 " Look what I gotta do ! " cried Red indignantly. 
 "I " He broke off, his eye caught by the expression 
 of intense interest on the face of Mr. Teller. " No," he 
 continued in a more restrained tone, " I guess I ain t 
 talkin to-day no more." 
 
 On the morrow, between noon and one o clock, Jake 
 Rule came galloping on a lathered horse, shouting that 
 John Hudson had arrived. A few minutes behind Jake 
 rode Kansas Casey. The latter greeted Red with great 
 cordiality. 
 
 " Foxed me good, didn t yuh ? " said he, assisting 
 Red to boost Art Teller across a saddle. " What did 
 yuh do with yore trail after yuh left the Empire 
 eat it?" 
 
 " We didn t have much else to eat," grinned Red. 
 
 Within the hour Farewell was edified by the sight of 
 its efficient sheriff bringing in a prisoner. The prisoner 
 was Red Kane. He was hatless he had for the sake 
 of atmosphere stuffed his hat into a cantina his hair 
 was f rowsily unkempt ; he had not shaved since the Lord 
 
364 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 knew when, and on his wrists sparkled a new and shiny 
 pair of handcuffs. 
 
 To the immediate vicinity of Jake and his prisoner the 
 town s inhabitants drew as steel filings to the magnet. 
 Among the first to arrive were Usher, Billy Bruff and 
 Lumley. They found Red arguing violently with the 
 sheriff. 
 
 " I want a hearin right now," he was insisting. 
 
 " You ll get it when I get good an ready," returned 
 the sheriff. 
 
 " Now, right now ! " bawled Red. " This here s a in 
 justice. I ain t gonna stay in no jail so s you can make 
 money a-boardin me. Nawsir, I ain t. I want a hearin , 
 an I want it immediate." 
 
 " You ll maybe get stretched immediate, young feller," 
 called Billy Bruff, oozing triumph from every pore. 
 
 " I got a rope," said Lumley, his eyes gloatingly ven 
 omous. 
 
 Red, looking over the shoulders of the crowd, per 
 ceived on the outskirts the long horse-face and high hat 
 of Bradley Usher. The face was expressionless. The 
 jaws worked squirrel-wise. As their eyes met, Mr. 
 Usher half smiled and passed a thumb across his lean 
 throat. 
 
 Telescope Laguerre, a yard in Mr. Usher s rear, 
 hitched up his chaps and stared woodenly. Red dropped 
 his eyes to the faces of Bruff and Lumley. 
 
 " I hear you two made quite a picture," said he, " with 
 yore hands tied behind yuh an yore two heads jammed 
 tight under the sash." 
 
 " I m still laughin last," flung back Lumley. " What 
 say, gents, we take this sport over to the nearest cotton- 
 wood?" 
 
 It does not matter what manner of man he may be, a 
 citizen, if he wishes, makes friends. The Rock County 
 men had, during their sojourn in Farewell, attached to 
 
The Bargain 365 
 
 themselves by the easy ties of drinking and gambling 
 certain members of the loose-living caste. These indi 
 viduals received with acclaim the suggestion of Mr. 
 Lumley. 
 
 The sheriff dropped his hand to his gun-butt. 
 
 " This prisoner goes to jail," said he. " Anybody 
 thinkin different an puttin it in the form of a motion 
 goes to the graveyard." 
 
 Bill Derr pushed his energetic way through the crowd. 
 He was followed by Bert Kinzie and three of Bert s com 
 rades of the 88 to wit, Bill Allen of the freckled face, 
 Slim Mack and Alonzo Peters, the latter known to his 
 friends as " Crazy Lonzo." In the fight at the Sweet- 
 water ranch-house Red Kane had perforated Slim Mack, 
 and Tom Kane had at other times and places drilled holes 
 in both Bill Allen and Crazy Lonzo. But now Slim Mack 
 was grinning cheerily at Red, Bill Allen was shouting 
 encouragement and Crazy Lonzo was swearing that what 
 the sheriff said went, and he, Alonzo Peters, would be 
 proud to see that it went. 
 
 Red Kane felt a warm glow expand within him. It 
 was good to find friends especially in that quarter. 
 Red Kane had cast his bread upon the waters in that dark 
 hotel dining-room, and now it had returned to him four 
 fold. 
 
 " Heart up, Reddy lad ! " bawled a voice over the 
 shoulder of Billy Bruff. " You got friends, an don t yuh 
 forget it ! " 
 
 Mr. Bruff, turning to frown down his enemy s well- 
 wisher, found himself gazing into the hard-bitten coun 
 tenance of Alike Flynn, the peg-legged half-owner of the 
 Blue Pigeon store. Mr. Bruff turned back to frown else 
 where and looked into the face of his chief, Tom Lumley. 
 Billy Bruff asked a question with his eyes. Lumley shook 
 his head slightly. 
 
 The sheriff, who, with his prisoner, had remained on 
 
366 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 horseback in front of the jail till the crowd was packed 
 solidly between it and them, raised his hand. 
 
 " Li l air, gents, li l air," he cried good-naturedly. 
 " Move both ways an lemme get this prisoner into the 
 
 jug." 
 
 " Say, don t I get no hearin ? " protested Red in his 
 loudest yell. 
 
 " You don t need no hearin ," snapped the sheriff. 
 "Yo re guilty! Shut up!" 
 
 " Take more n you to make me, old skimmerindink. I 
 know my rights as a citizen of this territory. I want a 
 hearin , an I m gonna have a hearin , an you can stick 
 a pin in that." 
 
 " Why don t yuh give him his hearin , Sheriff? " asked 
 Bill Derr. 
 
 "Shore, give it to him," vociferously seconded the 
 88 boys and Mike Flynn. 
 
 " It ain t regular," hesitated the sheriff. 
 
 "Aw, what s the odds?" said Bill Derr. " Dolan s 
 sober to-day, an to-morrow s Sunday, an Monday he ll 
 be drunk. Give Red what he wants for once in his young 
 life. He ll have long enough to stay in jail till the grand 
 jury indicts him." 
 
 So it was settled, and Bert Kinzie went off to find 
 Dolan, the storekeeper who was Justice of the Peace, the 
 man who had signed the warrants for Red Kane and his 
 brother. In the meantime Red, minus the handcuffs, was 
 deposited in one of the calaboose cells. It was the very 
 cell in which Ben Lenton had spent a few hours. He 
 wondered how Ben was getting along in the wild places 
 beyond the Three Sisters. He smiled slowly and lim 
 bered up his cramped wrists. He thought of Dot Lenton 
 and ceased to smile. She had been held in the jail, per 
 haps in this same cell. Her eyes had, it might be, looked 
 through the grimy pane of the tiny window. 
 
 Her eyes how they had used to sparkle. And a man 
 
The Bargain 367 
 
 could look down into their dark depths for miles and 
 miles and then not see that mysterious thing, the heart 
 of a maid. To hear her say that she loved him, to kiss 
 her on the mouth, he would have sold himself to the devil 
 and damned his soul to hell everlasting and counted it a 
 pleasure. 
 
 To please her he would have stolen, lied, killed, cheated 
 at cards, or, for that matter, run through the entire list 
 of deviltry eschewed by honest men without the slightest 
 hesitation. That is how he loved her. Nearly all women 
 and a few men love their beloveds like that. Red Kane 
 was one of the few men. 
 
 And after all, even now she might not know her mind 
 or, rather, her heart. Perhaps she did know it, and her 
 answer would be negative. The state of being actually 
 in jail was certainly spinning Red s imagination to the 
 limit. He stared at the wall in dumb misery. At least 
 he was spared the supreme agony. He was sure that 
 there was no one else. 
 
 There was a sound of one stirring in the next cell. 
 That would be Hudson. The man began to swear in 
 low, dispassionate tones. Red s mouth stretched into a 
 hard smile. He sincerely trusted that before the day s 
 sun set John Hudson would have reason to swear with 
 the heartiest abandon. 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX 
 
 THE HEARING 
 
 CAME a sudden shuffling in the back room and the clack 
 of conversation and the screaking and thumping of chairs 
 being picked up and set down. The voice of one speaking 
 loudly cut across the clatter, and the voice was that of 
 Dolan. 
 
 " Might s well bring Red out, Sheriff," he was saying. 
 
 At one end of the room the floor rose in a jog a foot 
 high. Upon this platform were a table and two chairs. 
 Dolan occupied the chair behind the table. Red crossed 
 the platform to the other chair, the wire-trussed chair at 
 the end of the platform, and slumped down into it with 
 his most chap-fallen air. It was no part of his plan to 
 display confidence at first. Jake Rule took position be 
 side Red between him and the window. 
 
 Red looked furtively over the crowding audience. The 
 place was packed. In the front row of spectators were 
 Sheriff Tom Lumley and Deputy Billy Bruff. Surround 
 ing this precious pair on three sides were Bill Derr, the 
 four 88 boys, and peg-legged Mike Flynn. The Farewell 
 friends of the Colorado men were as close to the latter as 
 they could squeeze, but they could not jostle their way 
 past Bill Derr and his partisans without a fight. And a 
 fight was not to be thought of. 
 
 Behind the front line, wedged in among other of his 
 friends, were Piney Jackson and that fleshy mountain, 
 Bill Lainey. Red s conscience smote him somewhat for 
 that he had been forced on the night of the jail-break to 
 
The Hearing 369 
 
 knock Mr. Lainey cold. But what else could he have 
 done? Circumstances had forced his hand or rather his 
 fist. He grinned sheepishly at Bill and Piney and nodded. 
 
 Red s roving gaze did not at first pick up the long and 
 slithy countenance of Mr. Bradley Usher. In a moment 
 he located the money-lender s glossy black pate behind 
 the broad Stetsons of two punchers from the Double 
 Diamond A. Usher had removed his tall hat and was 
 engaged in the ceremony of purveying himself a chew 
 from the crown. Red was pleased to observe that Tele 
 scope Laguerre stood directly in the rear of Mr. Usher. 
 This was as it should be. 
 
 " Say ! " Justice Dolan cried irritably. " Whatsa 
 matter with you, Red? I ve done spoke to you four 
 times. Come alive." 
 
 " Why, shore," Red said hastily. " I musta been 
 thinkin o somethin else." 
 
 " I guess you musta. Not that she makes no difference 
 to me. Not a bit. I was just askin yuh if yuh had 
 anythin partic lar to say before I hold you for the grand 
 jury. Seems like a plain open-an -shut case, Red." 
 
 :< Yeah," drawled Red. " Three witnesses ain t they 
 Lumley, Bruff an Buck Saylor? " 
 
 " Yep." 
 
 Dolan nodded his head and polished the end of a red- 
 veined nose. 
 
 " I don t see Buck Saylor anywhere," complained Red. 
 
 Ensued a commotion to the left of Mr. Usher, and Buck 
 Saylor poked his head over the shoulder of a stage- 
 station hostler. 
 
 " I m right here," called Buck Saylor with what seemed 
 unnecessary vehemence. 
 
 So was Tom Dowling of the Cross-in-a-box right there 
 on Mr. Saylor s left hand. On the other side of the ex 
 press agent loomed the tall form of Shorty Rumbold. 
 
 The woebegone, furtive manner fell as a cloak from 
 
370 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Red Kane. He sat up and shuffled his feet and rubbed 
 his hands together with huge satisfaction and showed his 
 teeth in a tremendous grin. He quite resembled an ami 
 able wolf. 
 
 " This," he said clearly, " is somethin like. Yes, in- 
 deedy. Judge, yore Honor, I ll begin at the beginning 
 huh?" 
 
 " That s a good place to start," nodded Dolan. " I ll 
 swear yuh first." 
 
 " Just a minute," cut in Tom Lumley. " They s a 
 hold-up in the left-hand cell. Red Kane come out o the 
 other. I wanna know what s come o Dot Lenton." 
 
 "You do, do yuh?" rapped out Jake Rule. "Well, 
 don t you worry none about her. She s doin right well 
 where she is, an where is just none o yore business." 
 
 " I don t like this," Lumley exclaimed. " Somethin 
 shady goin on. What you done with her, that s what I 
 wanna know ? What kind of a blazer you tryin to run 
 on me? " 
 
 " Where is she, Jake? " queried Dolan. 
 
 " In my house with my wife. I m sheriff, an I m re 
 sponsible for her. I don t need nobody to tell me how to 
 take care o my prisoners." 
 
 " Huh," snorted Tom Lumley. 
 
 " I meant you when I said nobody ," explained Sher 
 iff Rule. 
 
 " I ll remember," purred Lumley, dropping an eyelid. 
 " S pose we sift along with our sewin -circle." 
 
 " An that ll be about all from you," struck in Dolan, 
 cracking the table with the barrel of his six-shooter. 
 " Red, the bridle s off. Hop to it. Here, wait a shake. 
 Hold up yore right hand." 
 
 Red, having been duly sworn, crossed one leg over the 
 other and pulled the makings from the upper right-hand 
 pocket of his vest. 
 
 " Y all remember, yore Honor an gents," he began, 
 
The H earing 371 
 
 rolling the paper over the tobacco, " how fifty thousand 
 dollars was stole out of the express office awhile ago." 
 
 " What s that gotta do with yore turnin Ben Lenton 
 loose ! " struck in Lumley. 
 
 " I ain t in the habit o speakin twice," warned Dolan. 
 
 Lumley spat upon the floor. He said nothing aloud. 
 
 " Forty thousand dollars was for the new bank in Para 
 dise Bend," continued Red, dwelling lovingly on the fig 
 ures, " an ten thousand was consigned to Lanpher of the 
 88. My li l black hoss was stole at the same time along 
 with my brother Tom s wagon an his best team o mules. 
 We got the wagon an mules back, but not the hoss 
 then. 
 
 " Li l while later I picked up a knife with a busted blade 
 an a short bit wedged into her between the express office 
 an the company s corral. I pried out the short bit, an 
 scratched on her was the initials B L. The dime was 
 bored near the edge, pocket piece like. The knife was 
 marked B L, too." 
 
 Here Red took time to light his cigarette and inhale 
 deeply. 
 
 " That same day," he went on, " Old Salt sat down on 
 the bench outside the door of the express office. He leaned 
 his shoulder against the jamb an snags himself on a 
 piece of a knife-blade stuck in the door jamb. I told 
 Buck, an he pulled her out with a pair o pliers. With 
 out Buck noticin , I fitted together the broken blade in the 
 knife I found with the piece from the door jamb, an they 
 fitted fine. I didn t say nothin about what I d found 
 then." 
 
 "Why not? "asked Dolan. 
 
 " Wanted to find out more before springin what I 
 knowed," was Red s not too truthful reply. But it 
 sounded sufficiently plausible. 
 
 " Yuh remember, yore Honor an gents, how, when Lan 
 pher tried to put off the robbery onto Ben Lenton, Pickles 
 
372 Lyncji Lawyers 
 
 Dill an Spunk Lenn backed him up strong. You keep 
 a-rememberin that. It ll come in handy later. 
 
 " I was out at the Lenton place when Lanpher made his 
 break. I m sort of recoverin from that riot when I lost 
 the marked knife an dime out o my pocket. Young 
 Sam Brown Galloway picks em up. The sheriff hears 
 about it an comes prancin out, him an Kansas, to see 
 whether the knife-blade Buck pulled out of the office 
 door-jamb fits or not. 
 
 " She didn t fit. The busted-off piece was part of a 
 whole lot bigger knife. Now, yore Honor, that piece 
 when Buck pulled her out of the doorway fitted fine. 
 When the sheriff tried her at the Lenton ranch-house she 
 didn t fit. The knife an dime belonged to John Hudson, 
 a gent who s wanted down in Lang County. Now, yore 
 Honor, I d like to know why Buck Saylor tried to shield 
 John Hudson by substitutin a different blade for the 
 piece I found." 
 
 " I never did no such thing! " cried Buck Saylor hotly. 
 " That blade " 
 
 " What yuh so pale for then ? " interrupted Red. 
 " You look kind o sick to me." 
 
 " Look here, Judge ! " shouted Buck Saylor, " if this 
 feller s accusin me of anythin , I wanna know it. I want 
 him to make a charge against me. This here beatin 
 round the bush don t go." 
 
 " I ain t beatin round no bushes," contradicted Red. 
 " I m just statin facts an askin question, thassall. 
 Lordy, man alive, can t I ask a simple li l question without 
 Buckhavin a fit?" 
 
 " You ve asked yore question," said the justice. 
 " G on." 
 
 " Might as well. Don t look like I was gonna get no 
 answer." 
 
 "Yore Honor, this ain t got a thing to do with the 
 charge against Red Kane," protested Buck violently. 
 
The Hearing 373 
 
 " What he s sayin is foolishness, an it ain t gettin no 
 where." 
 
 " You only think it ain t gettin nowhere, Buck," re 
 turned Red with the greatest good humor in the world. 
 " You don t see the end of the trail yet, thassall. Lemme 
 go at it my own way. I may be slow, but I ll get there at 
 the finish, an , when I do, you ll be with me. Yessir, 
 you ll be right along all same wheels on a wagon." 
 
 Red laughed loudly and leered at Buck Saylor. The 
 express agent grunted, blew his nose, and coughed. He 
 seemed to have a retching in the throat. 
 
 " You see. Buck," pursued the ruthless Mr. Kane, " I m 
 naturally interested in you. Yo re one of the gents swore 
 out my warrant. Yo re a fly in the ointment. Feel 
 sticky yet, Buck? Nemmine, you will." 
 
 " Stop it, Red," admonished the justice. " Keep a- 
 travelin ." 
 
 " I will," nodded Red. " You know how Lumley, 
 Billy Bruff an Dune Rouse come up here from Flipup, 
 Colorado, to arrest Ben Lenton for the murder of his 
 brother an the stealin o thirty thousand of the brother s 
 money. How d they know he was here, huh ? Who told 
 em? Yore Honor, while I was sick at the Lenton ranch- 
 house, a gent named Hollister stops for a meal there. 
 Three days after that meal Hollister was in Blossom on 
 the railroad sendin a telegram to Sheriff Tom Lumley at 
 Flipup, Colorado. The telegram says : 
 
 " Located L at K C ranch-house near Sweetwater 
 Mountain east of Farewell. 
 
 " This telegram was signed H." 
 
 " Howja find this out? " asked Dolan. 
 
 " Operator at Blossom told me. I stopped there a few 
 days ago. Whatsa matter, Lumley? Got a pain or 
 somethin ? Nothin serious, I hope. Shore, yore Honor, 
 right away. Well, sir, them three fellers from Flipup 
 gloms on to Ben Lenton, an me n Tom starts for Flipup 
 
374 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 to find out the truth about that murder. Ben Lenton 
 wasn t the man to kill his own brother, but Sheriff Tom 
 Lumley an them two deputies, Billy Bruff an Dune 
 Rouse, was hell-roarers from way back. A li l thing like 
 murder wouldn t bother them none. I d heard enough 
 about them to be dead shore o that. 
 
 " On our way south one night four riders passed with 
 out seein us. One of em s hoss stumbled. He cussed, 
 the man did. It was Hollister s voice. Farther south, 
 over back of Scatterpine Ridge south of the Broken Hills, 
 we heard a shot. Li l later we seen Buck Saylor comin 
 through the woods. He didn t see us. Buck looked 
 average nervous. We watched him get his hoss an ride 
 back out o the woods to a li l bunch o cottonwoods at a 
 spring. He stops there a shake lookin at somethin on 
 the ground. Then he goes on. Bimeby, after he s good 
 an gone, we went out to the spring. There s Pickles Dill, 
 a .45-90 through an through him, dead as Julius Caesar. 
 The front o Pickles shirt was all burnt. Whoever had 
 killed him had held pretty close to Pickles. Looked like 
 Pickles hadn t been expectin it. Looked like Pickles 
 musta been sort o caught out on a limb." 
 
 " It s a lie ! " boomed Buck Saylor, pale to his trem 
 bling lips. 
 
 " Own up now," urged Red, turning on Buck. " Wasn t 
 Pickles the man killed yore bloodhounds? They was 
 took away so s they wouldn t do no barkin the night of 
 the robbery, an rather than be bothered feedin em out 
 there at Squaw Draw an afraid to leave em tied cause 
 they might break loose an take up the trail, Pickles 
 downed em. Wasn t that the way of it, Buck ? " 
 
 " You you can t prove it," stuttered the badly-rattled 
 express agent. 
 
 " I don t need to prove it. Yore face is too easy to 
 read. It don t matter none anyway. She s only a detail. 
 But the murder of Pickles is a cat with another tail. Me 
 
The Hearing 375 
 
 an Tom can prove that, you bet. An I can get hold of 
 Tom any time she s necessary." 
 
 "In this Territory," pronounced Judge Dolan with 
 heavy emphasis, " they has to be two witnesses or satis 
 factory circumstantial evidence, or both, before a warrant 
 can be issued on the charge of murder. I ll say right 
 here the evidence so far is a heap satisfactory. Just as 
 soon as this hearin is over I ll issue a warrant for Buck 
 Say lor. Pendin the servin of said warrant, the sheriff 
 will take charge of Buck Saylor s person." 
 
 The sheriff left the platform and began to worm his 
 way through the crowd toward Buck Saylor. The latter 
 hesitated till he saw Jake Rule actually start in his direc 
 tion ; then he attempted to escape. He may have covered 
 six inches of the distance to the door. But it is ex 
 tremely doubtful. It was the gigantic Shorty Rumbold 
 who pinioned his arms to his sides and held him fast, and 
 it was Tom Dowling, of the Cross-in-a-box, who removed 
 his six-shooter. 
 
 The sheriff snapped a pair of handcuffs upon the wrists 
 of the madly protesting express agent, shoved him into 
 the cell so lately vacated by Red Kane and locked the 
 door. 
 
 This situation brought to a successful close, Red re 
 sumed his tale. 
 
 " We searched Pickles," said he, " an we found in the 
 leg of one boot two gold watches, in the other boot four 
 hundred an fifty dollars in gold. We all know Pickles 
 Dill, yore Honor. Nobody never seen him work anythin 
 but his friends, an he wasn t so lucky at cards. He never 
 bought them gold watches, that s a cinch. We scouted 
 round that camp, Tom an me, an we found the tracks 
 of a pair of mighty small boots. Hollister wears small 
 boots. We found the tracks of a hoss packin a bar shoe 
 on the near fore. Hollister rode a hoss like that. I seen 
 Piney Jackson shoe him with a bar shoe myself. 
 
376 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 " This wasn t all we found neither. She ain t five 
 minutes after when my li l black hoss the one stolen 
 out o Tom s corral the night of the express robbery 
 my li l black hoss, I say, come driftin out of the woods 
 close by. An him an the hoss of Pickles Dill was 
 wearin the same kind of figure-of-eight hobbles. This 
 sort of links up Pickles an Hollister on the express rob 
 bery. Yuh can see that easy. 
 
 " After that Tom an me went on to Flipup, Colorado. 
 One or two li l things happened there had awful rough 
 edges. We pulled through somehow, an one evenin , 
 when a hotel landlord named Skinner an us was in the 
 office of Bradley Usher, who came slidin in but Hollister 
 an asks for Brad Usher, who s away at the time. I m 
 some took myself with Hollister s hair which was yaller 
 last time I seen it an black at the roots now. One thing 
 led to another, an we had to reason with Hollister. 
 Durin the argument an while he was senseless, we 
 looked him over, an they s a knife scar on his right arm 
 between shoulder an elbow correspondin to the scar 
 carried by the much-wanted sport, John Hudson. Like 
 wise he s packin in his vest pocket the li l carvin of a 
 Injun girl s head, which same head is a habit with Hud 
 son seemin ly. Bill Derr s got one Hudson carved, an 
 they was a larger one settin on Brad Usher s desk. I 
 was gonna bring it, but I couldn t find it when I come 
 away." 
 
 " That s a lie," declared Usher coldly, speaking for the 
 first time since the beginning of the hearing. " I never 
 knowed anybody named Hollister or Hudson in my whole 
 life. An I never had no Injun head layin round loose 
 on my desk neither. Injun heads ! " 
 
 " Well, now, I forgot," Red hastened to say. " I did 
 find that Injun head, after all." 
 
 He pulled it from his vest pocket and held it up for all 
 to see. From another pocket he produced a second head. 
 
The Hearing 377 
 
 " Here s the one Hudson had in his own pocket when we 
 caught him," Red hurried on, " an here s Bill Derr s he 
 just gimme. Yore Honor, look em over an* say what 
 yuh think." 
 
 His Honor, after a close inspection, gave it as his opin 
 ion that the same hand and knife had carved the three. 
 
 " All this don t tangle me anywhere," said Usher, " if 
 that s what yo re gettin at, Mister Man." 
 
 " That s what I m gettin at," replied Red. " Li l by 
 li l ties the knot as the Vigilantes used to say." 
 
 Lumley and Bruff glanced uneasily at each other. This 
 Territorial court of law was a farce so far. The Lord 
 knew when it would twist into a tragedy. 
 
 " I forgot to say," said Red, " that we found in Hud 
 son s pocket the watch of the Governor of this Territory 
 the one stole from him in the holdup near town. 
 Here s the watch. They s a inscription inside the case. 
 Lookit, Judge, read her off for yourself. So yuh see, 
 yore Honor an gents, here s Hudson gettin his feet wet 
 an splashin Brad Usher at the same time. Yo re shore 
 you don t know a gent named Hudson or Hollister, huh, 
 Usher?" 
 
 " No, I don t," was the loudly uttered reply. 
 
 " Sheriff, how about now ? " queried Red. 
 
 Jake Rule nodded and strode to the door of the left- 
 hand cell, which he unlocked. A moment later John 
 Hudson, alias Hollister, disheveled, defiant and sullen, 
 stumbled out upon the platform. 
 
 "Did yuh ever see this feller before, Mr. Usher?" 
 called the Judge, indicating the prisoner. 
 
 " Am I bein examined? " asked Bradley Usher. 
 
 " Not a-tall. I m just askin questions. Nothin reg 
 ular about this. But you either know this feller or you 
 don t. If you don t answer, you must have a reason for 
 not answerin . Maybe that reason would be interestin 
 for to know." 
 
378 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Judge Dolan licked his lips and squinted at Mr. Usher. 
 The latter s face was expressionless. Then "I don t 
 know him," said Mr. Usher. " Never seen him in all 
 my life." 
 
 " Lemme make you acquainted then," struck in Red. 
 " This is John Hudson, alias Hollister, the gent who was 
 askin for yuh that night in yore office at Flipup. You 
 don t know him, an alia time you was keepin this here 
 new hydraulic peroxide in stock for him an usin one of 
 his Injun girl heads for a paper weight. You don t know 
 him, huh? That s funny. An it don t tangle you any 
 where, huh ? That s funnier. An what s comin next is 
 gonna be funniest. 
 
 " Yore Honor," went on Red, turning to Judge Dolan, 
 " me an Tom kept right along try in to cut out our own 
 particular cow, an by an by we got the true story of 
 what happened at the Empire Mine the day Dick Lenton, 
 Ben Lenton s brother, was murdered. 
 
 " Usher, Bruff, Lumley an Rouse bought the mine 
 for sixty thousand dollars. Usher an Lumley an Rouse 
 BrufT didn t go Hudson an Art Teller an Skinner 
 went out to the mine the mornin after Ben Lenton an 
 his daughter left. . . . Huh ? Shore. This Hudson was 
 a kind of go-between for Brad Usher an an whatever 
 Brad happened to be interested in round the country. 
 Nobody knowed him in Flipup he always come in 
 an juked out in the night except Usher an* six of his 
 friends. An , speakin of friends, we found out that 
 Hudson knowed Rum Durkin an Spunk Lenn back east 
 in Chadron, Nebraska, where they all three broke jail to 
 gether just in time to miss bein lynched for hoss-stealin . 
 Where was I at? Oh, yeah, Usher an five of his friends 
 went out to the mine, an they got there early, an* they s 
 nobody there but Dick Lenton, an he s drunk. He 
 showed em the money where she s hid in the stove, an 
 between em they figured to rub him out, take the thirty 
 
The Hearing 379 
 
 thousand, put all the blame on Ben Lenton an get his 
 thirty thousand too. 
 
 " They drawed lots to see who d do the shootin , an 
 Hudson lost. He gave Dick Lenton both barrels of Dick s 
 own shotgun, but he didn t quite finish him; so Brad 
 Usher an Tom Lumley pulled their six-shooters, an Dick 
 died right quick." 
 
 Red sprang to his feet and pointed at Lumley. 
 
 " Look at him, yore Honor ! " he shouted. " Don t he 
 look like a guilty man ? " 
 
 Lumley, beside himself with badly mixed emotions, 
 volleyed back denials, general and particular. 
 
 " You think I can t prove it? " interrupted Red at the 
 top of his lungs. " Look ! " 
 
 Red half turned as he spoke and jerked a thumb toward 
 the open window behind him. Framed in the window 
 appeared the handcuffed form of Art Teller, Kansas 
 Casey in close attendance. 
 
 " He s a liar ! " shrieked Tom Lumley. " I never fired 
 a shot ! I never even drawed my gun ! It was Hudson 
 an Usher who killed Dick Lenton ! I I tried to stop 
 em ! I tried to stop em ! I tell yuh I didn t have a thing 
 to do with it ! " 
 
 Instantly, led by Bill Derr and the 88 boys, a rush of 
 men bore Lumley and Bruff to the floor where they were 
 sat upon and deprived of their weapons. 
 
 It was then that John Hudson with a sudden roar of 
 rage sprang from the platform and strove to brain Tom 
 Lumley with his handcuffs. But Bill Derr was a watch 
 ful person, particularly so at that moment, and Lumley 
 escaped with the mere trifle of a gashed cheek. 
 
 Toward the rear of the room Telescope Laguerre was 
 pressing the muzzle of a six-shooter against the small of 
 Bradley Usher s back. 
 
 " Don you move," Telescope was saying. " You keep 
 you hand up or I blow you een half mebbeso. Were 
 
380 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 dat gun, hein? I fin it, me. Now walk slow up front de 
 room. Move ! " 
 
 " Look here, Judge," said Usher when he had been 
 forced to the platform, " you can t hold us for a crime 
 alleged to have been committed in another state. I want 
 a lawyer." 
 
 " We ain t got a lawyer in town," said Judge Dolan. 
 " So that s all right. An I ll hold yuh as vagabonds till 
 Colorado gets out the warrants for yuh. So that s all 
 right too." 
 
 " You ain t got nothin against me," spoke up Billy 
 Bruff desperately. " Even if you hold these other fellers, 
 I ain t in it with them. Kane here said I didn t go out 
 to the mine that mornin . Holdin me is a heap illegal." 
 
 " Yeah," said Red. " You think so. Wait till yo re 
 shaved o that beard an see if Piney Jackson don t recog 
 nize yuh. He was a horseshoer in yore regiment when it 
 was stationed at Fort Rackham, where Miss Lenton said 
 you deserted after the post-trader s killin , you bein at 
 the time a sergeant named Reynolds. Yeah, Piney Jack 
 son. He s the blacksmith here in Farewell. You ve 
 seen him he s right yonder now an I guess you 
 must know him by the way yore eyes are battin . We ll 
 just see if he knows you." 
 
 " Whatsa use waitin to shave him?" objected Piney. 
 " I got my hoss-clippers right in my pocket." 
 
 Billy Bruff was not kept waiting. Ten minutes later 
 he was identified as the army deserter Reynolds, the man 
 suspected of having murdered the post-trader, by the will 
 ing Piney. 
 
 " I guess that settles you," said Judge Dolan in a loud 
 voice. " Sheriff, app int some deputies an take all these 
 prisoners down to the express office. I wanna do some 
 investigatin . No, nemmine Red Kane. He ain t no pris 
 oner. I ain t even askin him to deny the charge against 
 him. Tain t necessary, since he s showed up the fellers 
 
The Hearing 381 
 
 who swore out the warrants the way he has. Affidavits 
 an warrants swore to an swore out by murderers, road 
 agents an army deserters don t travel a foot in this court, 
 an the warrants against Red Kane, his brother Tom, an 
 Miss Dorothy Lenton are hereby quashed. Sheriff, go 
 right along with yore duty." 
 
 " You Teller ! " Hudson, grinding his handcuffs to 
 gether in an ecstasy of rage, snarled through clenched 
 teeth, " I ll get you before I die, an get you a-plenty, you 
 lousy snitch ! " 
 
 The manacled gentleman at the open window tilted his 
 wizened face on one side and surveyed the glaring Hud 
 son with contempt. 
 
 " Don t lemme see you first," was his sole remark. 
 
 " Aw, you needn t be bad friends with Art Teller, Hud 
 son," deprecated Red. " Outside of bein a murderer 
 he s all right. He ain t no snitch. But I knowed he 
 knowed all about this business, an I just lied a li l bit 
 when he showed up there at the window so fine and prov 
 idential. Naw, you gotta blame Sheriff Tom Lumley for 
 bein took in an losin his head an blattin out thataway, 
 an likewise Skinner for confessin , besides the shotgun 
 you killed Dick Lenton with for leadin us straight to 
 Skinner after we thought we d lost him for good an all. 
 Yep, the shotgun with Dick Lenton s initials cut into the 
 small o the stock. You d oughta destroyed that shot 
 gun instead of givin it to Bill Doran to play with. That 
 was careless." 
 
 Hudson burst into a flood of vile and filthy oaths. He 
 continued to swear as the impatient sheriff propelled him 
 toward the door. 
 
 Noisily the crowd and the prisoners trooped from the 
 building. Oddly enough, the sheriff did not take the 
 captives to the express office. He locked them up in Judge 
 Dolan s warehouse and set three men on guard. Which 
 being done, the sheriff joined Red Kane, Judge Dolan, 
 
382 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Bill Derr and other prominent personages at the bar of 
 the Happy Heart. 
 
 An hour later Red, the Judge, Derr and the sheriff 
 returned to the jail. Jake Rule unlocked the door of 
 Buck Saylor s cell. 
 
 " Lookit here," said Red roughly, confronting Buck 
 Saylor. " Them other fellers say you kept back half o 
 that fifty thousand for yore share. What did you do 
 with it?" 
 
 " Half ! " screamed the overwrought express agent. 
 "Half! Ten thousand was all I got. They My 
 Gawd I What you talkin about ? I don t know 
 nothin about it, I tell you ! " 
 
 " I guess you ve said enough," nodded Red. " Have 
 I done my part o the bargain satisfactory, Sheriff ? " 
 
 " Which I should say so ! " was the hearty response. 
 " I ll send word down to Flipup right away, an the old 
 man can come back any time." 
 
 From the jail Red went directly to the sheriff s house. 
 Plump Mrs. Rule, wiping her hands on her apron, said in 
 response to his inquiry that Miss Lenton had departed 
 homeward. 
 
 "Jake sent Kansas to tell her the warrant was 
 squashed," Mrs. Rule told him, " an Dot, she left imme 
 diate. A real nice girl, that one. I declare I was glad 
 to have her, so handy an neat an obligin . Know her 
 well, Mr. Kane?" 
 
 " Not very well. Didn t she leave no message for 
 me?" 
 
 " Nary a word." 
 
 Mrs. Rule folded her arms across her substantial bosom 
 and beamed upon him fatuously. 
 
 " No word nothin a-tall ? " Incredulously. 
 
 The sheriff s wife shook her tight, slick coiffure. Red 
 took his instant leave without even a nod for politeness. 
 
 Dot gone without a word ! He couldn t understand it. 
 
The Hearing 383 
 
 She must have known he was in town. Kansas would 
 have told her, or Mrs. Rule, or even Jake himself. What 
 did it mean ? Was it to be the wrong answer after all ? 
 
 There was only one way to find out follow. He 
 went to Tom s corral, whither his horse had been taken, 
 caught up the animal and hurriedly cinched on the hull. 
 
 But he did not immediately head toward the ranch- 
 house at Sweetwater Mountain. Instead, he rode north 
 along the Bend trail a short two miles. Below a sway- 
 backed ridge he halted, dragged out his six-shooter and 
 fired five shots. He was engaged in the process of re 
 loading when Tom Kane loped out of an adjacent draw. 
 
 " It s all right," said Red listlessly. "I we won, 
 an the warrants are squashed." 
 
 " Oh, you won," said Tom. " Yo re welcome to the 
 credit. You worked hard enough for it. Say, I seen 
 Rooster Cox larrupin along about two hours ago. He 
 was headin north. I didn t stop him." 
 
 Red nodded. 
 
 " I didn t see him at the hearin ," he said. " He musta 
 smelt a mice some ers. Can t prove nothin against him, 
 but I expect he ain t so sure about that himself." 
 
 " I expect he ain t," chuckled Tom. " An that ll be 
 the last of him an his outfit round here, anyway. What 
 yuh lookin so sad for, huh ? " 
 
 "Who? Me? Me sad? Why " 
 
 " Yeah, you. Which yore face is as long as a well- 
 rope. An look Say, has she give yuh the klatawahf 
 Has she? Did she turn yuh down, huh? Did she?" 
 The liveliest hope was depicted upon the countenance of 
 Tom Kane. 
 
 " If I only had a button, I could fasten that grin of 
 yores right behind yore ears," said Red, forcing a hard 
 smile. " You look like a catfish." 
 
 " I ll bet she s gave yuh the mitten," persisted Tom, 
 " an serve you good an right for bein a fool. Yo re 
 
384 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 well out of it. Just lookit what s happened because you 
 went an fell in love with that nester s girl! Just lookit 
 all the trouble we horned into ! You an I was lucky not 
 to be lynched. An all on account of her an her black 
 eyes ! I tell yuh, bad luck with a big B ! Yo re well out 
 of it, yuh bet yuh." 
 
 "I ain t asked her yet," Red said dully, "if yuh gotta 
 know. I m ridin out to the K C now." 
 
 " You are! Well, if you can t see the quicksand after 
 all that s happened, ride into it, cowboy, ride into it hell 
 bent! I give up. I ain t got a word to say. Not a 
 word. I ve done scratched my head till she s raw, tryin 
 to figger some way o gittin you out o this. I spent one 
 whole afternoon the day I come to see you at the K C 
 after you was shot a-settin on a rock a-wrastlin an a- 
 puzzlin to snoozle out a path for yuh I ve shore stud 
 ied a heap, an it ain t done a bit o good. I ve talked till 
 I m dry as a covered bridge, an yo re still as sheep-fool 
 ish as ever. You ll wish you hadn t, you hear me war- 
 blin ! An a year from now you ll be fightin like 
 wolves." 
 
 Red laid a long finger alongside his nose. 
 
 "Har!" said he. "An again har, har! An three 
 times har, har, har! Which bein translated into words 
 of one syllable means the more I see of you the better I 
 like myself. Now you drift along into Farewell, 
 Tommy, old settler, an get yore freightin business a- 
 goin again. If I m gonna be yore partner, I m all for 
 activity an makin money an pushin the bridge over 
 generally. So long." 
 
 With a loud whoop Red smacked his hat across the 
 astonished eyes of Tom s pony, wheeled his horse in a 
 quarter-circle and galloped off eastward. 
 
 Tom, when he had his mount again under control, 
 looked at Red vanishing down the draw, and added a few 
 chosen words to those he had been passionately uttering 
 
The Hearing 385 
 
 during the gyrations of his pony. Then he smiled sourly 
 and rolled a cigarette. 
 
 " Alia same," he said aloud in the general direction of 
 his horse s ears, " alia same, he s one good worker. An 
 she won t spoil that." 
 
 When Red reached the ranch-house under Sweetwater 
 the kitchen door stood wide open, and from the chimney 
 pennoned a wisp of smoke. 
 
 He dismounted heavily, dropped the reins over his 
 horse s head and walked slowly to the doorway. He 
 stood there, his hat in his hand, looking in. No one was 
 in the room, but a pot of coffee, roosting low on the fire, 
 protruded six inches above lid-level. The kitchen table 
 was set for two. He looked long at that table. His 
 mind was a tangle of doubt and conjecture. He shifted 
 his feet and passed a hand across the back of his head. 
 
 " You you might as well come in." 
 
 It was Dot Lenton speaking from the doorway of the 
 inner room. 
 
 He stepped over the sill, wondering why she should 
 boggle her invitation. It wasn t like her. She was a 
 direct sort of person. He looked at her standing there, 
 at the fugitive smile that left her red mouth grave, at the 
 dark eyes deep as the wells of night, and his heart hopped 
 right up into his mouth and stayed there fighting for exist 
 ence with his Adam s apple. But all he could think of 
 to say was 
 
 " You didn t leave me no word." 
 
 The fugitive smile returned on the instant. 
 
 " Was it so necessary? " she asked softly, and a slow 
 flush reddened the tan of throat and cheeks. 
 
 At once that old K C kitchen underwent a most marvel 
 ous change. There were birds there, scores of them, 
 and they were all singing as if their little throats would 
 burst. And there was a light too, a wonderful golden 
 light that filled every nook and cranny. 
 
386 Lynch Lawyers 
 
 Red dropped his hat on the floor and drew a long 
 breath. 
 
 "Have you found out yet?" he asked, his eyes on 
 hers. 
 
 " Wait/ she said and came forward into the kitchen. 
 
 Her cantina hung over a chair-back. She jerked open 
 the flap, inserted her hand and pulled out a flat, limp pack 
 age wrapped in a newspaper and tied with the blue string 
 affected by the Blue Pigeon Store. She laid this pack 
 age on the table between the places she had set. 
 
 " Red," she said, facing him across the table, " before 
 I answer your question I want to to tut-tell you 
 somethin and show you somethin . I I was a beast, 
 Red, when I said what I did." 
 
 "Huh?" 
 
 He gaped at her. A beast ! What was the girl talk 
 ing about? A pucker of alarm creased his forehead. 
 
 " A beast," she repeated, " a nasty, little, swell-headed, 
 self-sufficient little beast." 
 
 Red stared at her helplessly. She seemed sane enough, 
 but what was she talking about? 
 
 With a snap of her thumb she broke the blue string 
 that bound the package. She snicked open the newspaper 
 and revealed a brand-new shirt of gray flannel plentifully 
 besprinkled with aggressive purple horseshoes. On top 
 of the shirt lay a folded silk handkerchief of a strikingly 
 vivid green. He regarded the shirt. He regarded the 
 handkerchief. Then he looked at her. Still he did not 
 understand. 
 
 " Red," she said, meeting his gaze bravely, " I spoiled 
 your gray shirt when I washed it, and the horseshoes all 
 ran and faded out, and I took away your green handker 
 chief, and I I said things to you about them things 
 I shouldn t have said about what didn t matter, anyway. 
 So here s another gray shirt, Red, like your old one, and 
 another handkerchief like the one I took. I I think 
 
The Hearing 387 
 
 they re the the shirt s the right size. Mister Flynn 
 said it was, and he ordered it special from Piegan 
 City. I I think a green handkerchief tied round 
 the neck of a gray shirt with purple horseshoes mum- 
 makes the most bub-beautiful combination in the world, 
 and very becomin to a man with red hair." 
 And then the table was no longer between them. 
 
 " I think the coffee s scorchin ." 
 
 Dot Lenton stirred briefly and sniffed the air. 
 
 " Is it ? What do you care ? " 
 
 " I don t much." Comfortably. 
 
 " My goodness, Red, look at the sun. We we ve 
 been sittin here all afternoon." 
 
 " You just notice it? I s pose we d oughta be goin . 
 Dolan goes to bed early, an we don t wanna roust him 
 out too late." 
 
 "Dolan?" 
 
 " Shore, Dolan the judge. He marries folks. He s 
 gonna marry you an me. Now, that s all right. I m 
 doin this. Day after to-morrow s the twentieth. I 
 gotta go down to Triangle Mountain to light that smoke 
 for yore dad, ain t I ? You don t think I m goin alone, 
 do yuh? Well, then." 
 
 THE END 
 
THE OWNER OF 
 THE LAZY D 
 
 By WILLIAM PATTERSON WHITE 
 
 Author of "LYNCH LAWYERS" 
 
 With frontispiece by Anton Otto Fischer 
 
 12mo. Cloth. 324 pages. $1.75 net 
 
 This novel of a cattle- war between the rival ranch-owners of 
 Glenn County, is laid in the Wild West, and there is an abun 
 dance of gun-play and excitement throughout the story. 
 
 "When one takes up a Wild West story one wants adven 
 ture, plenty of fighting, a little love making, but especially 
 the wild, lawless West. . . . Mr. White understands this 
 and has given his readers the real thing; he has produced the 
 most stirring Wild West story that has been published for 
 many a year." Philadelphia Public Ledger. 
 
 "If you are imbued with an adventurous spirit, Dal Gil- 
 more s unique method of cleaning up the cattle-rustlers of 
 Glenn County will wile away an evening very comfortably." 
 New York Times. 
 
 "Whoever is looking for a rattling cowpuncher story will 
 find himself precipitated into the thick of a four-angled 
 ranch-feud sufficiently exciting to suit the most jaded ap 
 petite." Detroit Free Press. 
 
 "One of those cheerful, careless, Wild West yarns which 
 are like a breath of mountain air after a hothouse of societi- 
 fied fiction." St. Louis Star. 
 
 "For its kind The Owner of the Lazy D is exceptionally 
 good, and is calculated to make even those who do not like 
 the kind change their minds." New York Sun. 
 
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