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"You sign the relinquishment and agree not to make us any trouble because we brought you here, and you may go by two o'clock." "You want to reach Saguache with the relinquishment in time to file it before I could get to a 'phone. You don't trust me." Fendrick smiled. "When we let you go we're trusting you a heap more than we would most men.
And be it said for Carson, as it may be said for thousands of other men on the American frontier, he would have yielded his life rather than betray that sacred trust. Instances like this are common in the West. As they drove down the main street of Saguache, the passers looked curiously at the pair in the sleigh and at the dead lion strapped behind.
Across Dry Valley a dust cloud had been moving for hours. It rolled into Saguache at the brisk heels of a bunch of horses just about the time the town was settling itself to supper. At the intersection of Main and La Junta streets the cloud was churned to a greater volume and density.
The moonlight played strange tricks with the mesquit and the giant cactus, a grove of which gave to the place an awesome aspect of some ghostly burial ground of a long vanished tribe. Next day they reached Saguache. Bucky took his prisoner straight to the ranger's office and telephoned to Cullison. "Don't I get anything to eat?" growled the convict while they waited. "When I'm ready."
He drew his chair further back from the desk, and pretended to be reading a newspaper when he heard Rayder coming. "Just the man I have been wanting to see," said Rayder, extending his hand, "how is everything in Saguache and how is Annie?"
I tell you straight I don't like it." "Then I wouldn't stay if I were you," Curly suggested promptly. "Mac and I have got a different notion. So we'll tie to Saguache for a day or two." As soon as the older men had gone the others tumbled into bed and fell asleep at once. Daylight was sifting in through the open window before their eyes opened.
The plaza clock boomed ten strokes as they rode into Saguache. Mackenzie was waiting for them on the steps of the hotel. "Have they has anything been ?" The owner of the Fiddleback shook his grizzled head. "Not yet. Didn't you meet Curly?" "No." "He rode out to come in with you, but if he didn't meet you by ten he was to come back. You took the north road, I reckon?" "Yes."
Carson's weapon spit fire and the creature rolled over motionless. He dragged the carcass to the end of the sleigh and, lifting it upon the edge of the box, made it fast. "If you are going to Saguache to see my uncle, I fear you will be disappointed as he left this morning for an absence of several days." "That does not matter as I have other business anyway.
After half a week in the saddle Lieutenant Bucky O'Connor of the Arizona Rangers and Curly Flandrau reached Saguache tired and travel-stained. They had combed the Rincons without having met hide or hair of the men they wanted. Early next morning they would leave town again and this time would make for Soapy Stone's horse ranch. Bucky O'Connor was not disheartened.
Winter had come and we, John Buchan, Will Carson, and myself, had chipped in almost our last dollar and brought a wagon load of flour, bacon and canned goods from Saguache to the foot of the mountains, then carried them on our backs to the cabin. We quit work on the mine for ten days and chopped firewood, which we corded at the rear of our house.
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