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He's got a daughter that's sure a pippin, old man Roubideau has. Shoot, ride, rope that girl's got a lot of these alleged bullwhackers beat a mile at any one of 'em." Thursday did not answer. He had left the saddle and was examining the ground carefully. Billie joined him. In the soft sand of the wash were tracks of horses' hoofs.
She had had plenty of vitality, good looks and pride, but the somber shadow of her environment had not made for gayety. It was different with Pauline Roubideau. Though she had just escaped from terrible danger, laughter bubbled up in her soft throat, mirth rippled over her mobile little face. She expressed herself with swift, impulsive gestures at times.
It was kinder by accident that he bumped off four Apaches an' a halfbreed the other day." "Now don't you blame me for that, Billie. You was hell-bent on goin' into the Roubideau place an' I trailed along. When you got yore pill in the laig you made me ride up the gulch alone. I claim I wasn't to blame for them Mescaleros. I wasn't either."
The lust for vengeance swelled in the young man's blood like a tide. It was his right to kill; more, it was his duty. So he tried to persuade himself. But deep within him a voice was making itself heard. It whispered that if he killed Roush now, he could never look Pauline Roubideau in the face again. She had fought gallantly for his soul, and at last he had pledged his honor to a new course.
A girl like you, Miss Roubideau, has got no business stickin' up for a bad man who " "Didn't you hear me? I told you to go." "You've been invited to remove yoreself from the place an' become a part of the outdoor scenery, Swartz," cut in Goodheart, a snap to his jaw. "I'd take that invite pronto if I was you." The cowpuncher picked up his hat and walked out.
Nothin' but a necktie party would suit 'em when we left in the spring." "Times have changed," explained Roubideau. "This is quite a trail town now. The big outfits are bringin' in a good deal of money. Snaith can't run things with so high a hand as he did. Besides, there are a good many of the trail punchers in town now. I reckon Wally Snaith has given orders not to start anything."
Cut it out, Swartz." "All right." The cowpuncher turned to Pauline, who had come to the door and stood there. "You'll be goin' to the big show on the sixth, Miss Roubideau. Live-Oaks will be a sure-enough live town that day." The young woman walked straight up to the big cowpuncher. Her eyes blazed. "Get out of this house. Don't ever come here again. Don't speak to me if you meet me."
Both of them bore a marked likeness to the middle-aged man who had spoken. Jim guessed that this was the Roubideau family of whom Billie Prince had told him. "Just out of the cradle, by Christmas, and he's killed four 'Paches inside of an hour an' treed a renegade to boot," said young Roubideau. "I'd call it a day's work, kid, for it sure beats all records ever I knew hung up by one man."
But I won't let you do any such foolishness. You go marry that other man. If he's a good, square, decent fellow, you'll be a whole lot better off than if you tied up with a ne'er-do-well like me." They heard a step on the porch. "Don't forget. Three taps if you're alone in the room," she said in a whisper. Goodheart came into the parlor with Pierre Roubideau. "Expect we'd better turn in, Clanton.
From the rock walls of the gulch came to them booming echoes of rifles in action. "Roubideau must be standin' 'em off," shouted Prince. "Can we take the 'Paches by surprise? Is there any other way into the cañon?" "Don't know. Can't stop to find out. I'm goin' straight up the road." The younger man offered no protest.
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