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Well, he would show them he could take his medicine without squealing. "Maybe it is and maybe it isn't." "Oh, but you don't see what we mean. It isn't that we want to hurt you." She spoke in a quick eager voice of protest. "No, you just want me to squeal on my friends to save my own hide. Nothing doing, Miss Cullison." "No. You're wrong. Why are you so suspicious?" Curly laughed bitterly.
About a mile and a half up the line they met Cullison and his riders on the way down. Maloney was with them. He had been picked up at the station. Dick gave a shout of joy when he heard Flandrau's voice. "Oh, you Curly! I've been scared stiff for fear they'd got you." Luck caught the boy's hand and wrung it hard. "You plucky young idiot, you've got sand in your craw.
In all that he said there was not one word to suggest such a thing, but Laura London's mind jumped the gaps to a knowledge of the truth that Curly himself did not have. The young man was in love with Kate Cullison. She was sure of it. Also, she was his ally in the good cause of romance. When Curly walked back into the house, Stone laid down the paper he had been reading.
"The people elected me, Miss Cullison," answered Bolt, with grave reproach. "I haven't any friends or any enemies when it comes to doing what I've sworn to do." "Then you ought to know Father couldn't have done this. There is such a thing as character. Luck Cullison simply couldn't be a thief." Mackenzie's faith had been strengthened by the insistent loyalty of the girl. "That's right, Nick.
Upon that gray felt hat with the pinched crown was stamped the individuality and the initials of Luck Cullison. "Don't know as I recognize it," he lied, not very readily. "Not to know it. Why?" "Thought perhaps you might know it. The hold-up dropped it while getting away." Mackenzie's eyes flinched. "Dropped it. How was that?"
"First, I would like to know what you paid Luck Cullison for his Del Oro claim." "Thinking of buying me out?" was the ironical retort of the man on the bed. "Not quite. I've got another reason for wanting to know." "Then you better ask Cullison. The law says that if a man sells a relinquishment he can't file on another claim. If he surrenders it for nothing he can.
Slender and straight, Kate Cullison rose and gave Curly her hand. For about two heartbeats her fingers lay cuddled in his big fist. A strange stifling emotion took his breath. Then her arm fell to her side and she was speaking to him. "Dad has gone to meet you. We've heard about what happened this morning." "You mean what didn't happen.
And to his prisoner: "You too." Flandrau saw close at hand for the first time the man who had been Arizona's most famous fighting sheriff. Luck Cullison was well-built and of medium height, of a dark complexion, clean shaven, wiry and muscular. Already past fifty, he looked not a day more than forty. One glance was enough to tell Curly the kind of man this was.
"Oh, say two thousand." "You're on." "What!" A cowpuncher with fifty dollars two weeks after pay day was a rarity. No wonder Bolt was surprised. "It's not my money. Luck Cullison is going bail for him," Maloney explained. "Luck Cullison!" Maloney's words had surprised the exclamation from Curly. Why should the owner of the Circle C of all men go bail for him?
For he was sure that in no other way could Luck Cullison have been overcome. "If you'll only tell me how, Flandrau," Bolt returned. "I don't know how, but we'll find out." "I hope so." Kate felt his doubt, and it was like a spark to powder. "Fendrick is your friend. You were elected by his influence. Perhaps you want to prove that Father did this."
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