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His dress was simple and in keeping with his face; moleskin trousers, worn and soiled, a blue serge shirt, a shabby black jacket, and a fiery handkerchief about his neck, while a battered prairie hat adorned the back of his head. Tresler pulled his horse up before this welcome vision and slid stiffly to the ground, while the little man slanted his eyes over his general outfit.
As Julian Marbolt passed out the men kept silence, and even when the distant tapping of his stick had died away. Tresler looked round him at these hardy comrades of his with something like delight in his eyes. Joe was not there, which matter gave him satisfaction. The faithful little fellow was at his post to care for Diane. Now he turned to Harris.
Diane, half shyly, came a step nearer to him, and, though her face was smiling bravely, a pucker wrinkled her brows. "Mr. Tresler " "I was christened 'John." "John, then." The girl blushed faintly as she pronounced the name, which, spoken by her, seemed to seal the bond between them. "Is it absolutely necessary to tell Jake? Is it absolutely necessary to put yourself in such peril? Couldn't you "
All, except one, were tanned a dark, ruddy hue, unshaven, unkempt, but tough-looking and hardy. The pale-faced exception was a thin, sick-looking fellow with deep hollows under his eyes, and lips as ashen as a corpse. He it was who was talking, and his recital demanded a great display of dramatic gesture. Tresler came up and joined the group.
He laughed while he watched his bear drop again to his hands and knees, and continue to crawl toward him, till the tears rolled down his cheeks. On came the little fellow, enveloped in the full embracing folds of a large brown blanket, and his silent dogged progress warned Tresler that, as yet, his own presence was either unrealized or ignored in the earnestness of his unswerving purpose.
Jake was watching that strong sightless face, gazing into it with a look of bitter hatred and sinister intentness. This change so astonished Tresler that he paid no attention to the rancher's reply. And at once Marbolt's peculiar instinct asserted itself.
Ther' ain't a man big 'nough in this world to lift a finger ef you sez 'no' and has got your gun pointin' right. S'long." But Tresler detained him. "Just one moment, Arizona," he said, imitating the other's impressive manner. "I'd just like to say one thing to you, being a new hand around these parts myself, and that's this.
"I wer' kind o' figgerin' out what sort of a feller them pants o' yours wus made for." He doused the brown earth at his feet with tobacco juice. Then shaking his head thoughtfully, a look of solemn wonder replaced the grin. "Say," he added, "but he must 'a' bin a dandy chunk of a man." Tresler was about to reply. But a glance at Mr.
For a second only he stood cowering back, then, feeling his way, he darted with miraculous rapidity round the side of the building, and scrambled toward the dizzy staircase in the rock. Tresler challenged him at once, but he paid no heed. He had reached the foot of the stairway, and was climbing for life and liberty.
"And where's your wife living now?" Tresler asked, after another pause. "Can't rightly say." There was a nasty sharpness in the manner Arizona jerked his answer out. "Y' see, it's this a-ways. I guess I didn't amount to a deal as a married man. Leastways, that's how she got figgerin' after a whiles. Guess I'd sp'iled her life some. I 'lows I wus allus a mean cuss.
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