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But the sheriff's gun was out first. "None of that, Lanpher," he cautioned. "They ain't gonna be no lockin' horns here. That goes for you, too, Racey." "I don't need to pull any gun," Racey declared, contemptuously. "All I'd have to use is my fingers on that feller. He never went after his gun till he seen you pull yores. He ain't got any nerve, that's all that's the matter with him."
"Still, Racey," put in Kansas Casey, smoothly, "if you could see yore way to letting us go through yore warbags, yores and Swing's, it would be a great help, and we'd remember it after." "Yeah, we shore would," declared the sheriff. "You save us trouble now, Racey, and I'll guarantee to make you almighty comfortable in the calaboose. You won't have nothing to complain of. Not a thing."
Yo're yeller, Deming," he said, with contempt that was as if he had spat in the hunter's face. "I thought you were a better man than the rest. But you've got yores. Git down below an' we'll fix you up." He strode over to Hansen, stolid at the wheel. "Wal, you wooden-faced squarehead," he said, "which way did you think it was coming out? Damn me if you didn't play square, though! You kept her up.
Ter-morrer you'll see every mother's son o' them rebels breakin' their hoss' necks to git out o' range o' our Springfields." Then Shorty finished his letter: "Ime doin' my best to be a second father to little Pete. Heze as good a little soul as ever lived, but when I talk another boy to raise it'll be sumwhair else than in the army. "Yores, till deth."
It's fine. That's what it is fine great. Well, I've got to be driftin' along. I'm going to meet Swing in town. We're riding south Arizona way to-morrow." "Arizona!" "Yeah, we're going to give the mining game a whirl." "Why why not give it a whirl up here in this country?" "Because there ain't another mine like yores in the territory. No, we'll go south.
She went by Rainey as if he had not existed, straight into Lund's arms, her face radiant, upturned. "It's you I love, Jim Lund," she said. "A man. My man." As her arms went round his neck she gave a little cry. "I wounded you," she said, and the tender concern of her struck Rainey to the quick. "Quick, let me see." "Wounded, hell!" laughed Lund. "D'ye think that popgun of yores c'ud stop me?
Right this minute they're fixing up some way to give you yore come-uppance." "Think so?" "Think so! Say, would I come traipsing out here just for my health or yores? "Seems like you know a lot about Nebraska and his gang," he cast at a venture, glancing at her sharply. "I lived with Nebraska for a while," she said, matter-of-factly, giving him a calm stare.
You ain't soft on him, are you, account of what he done for that yellow mutt of yores?" "I owe him something," she evaded. "That dog I like that dog. And then that man treats me like a lady. It ain't every man treats me like a lady." "I should hope not," guffawed the amiable Bull. "Now that's a right funny joke," she assured him. "It almost makes me laugh. Still, alla same, I got feelin's.
"Jim Hardenberg!" he commented. "Wal! Wal! Friend of yores, eh?" "Oh, I don't know as you'd hardly call him that," evaded Stratton. "Haven't seen him in over two years, I reckon." Pop waited expectantly, but no further information was forthcoming. He eyed the letter curiously, manoeuvering as if by accident to hold it up against the light.
"Never mind what ye war jest a-sayin'," interrupted the boy, flushing redly to his cheekbones, but controlling his voice. "Ye've done said enough a'ready. Ye're a right old man, Caleb, an' I reckon thet gives ye some license ter shoot off yore face, but ef any of them no-'count, shif'less boys of yores wants ter back up what ye says, I'm ready ter go out thar an' make 'em eat hit.
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