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Luck is here too, him and his girl." "Good. We've got to have a talk with them, and it has to be on the q.t. You go back to town and find Dick. Tell him to meet us at the Del Mar, where Luck always puts up. Find out the number of Cullison's room and make an appointment. I'll be on El Molino street all mo'ning off and on.
"Cass wore a gray hat too, seems to me," Mackenzie contributed, scratching his gray hair. "Did Father hesitate at all about which one to take?" "No-o. I don't reckon he did. He had turned to ask me if I was coming wasn't looking at the hats at all." Curly looked at Kate and nodded. "I reckon we know how Cass got Mr. Cullison's hat. It was left on the rack." "How do you mean?" his uncle asked.
Blackwell, from his place by the door, could keep an eye both on his prisoner and on a point of the trail far below where horsemen must pass to reach the cabin. "Sit down," he ordered. Cullison's eyes were like finely-tempered steel. "I'd rather stand." "By God, if you move from there " The man did not finish his sentence, but the rifle was already half lifted.
Cass leased from the forestry department the land upon which Cullison's cattle had always run free of expense. Upon this he had put sheep, a thing in itself of great injury to the cattle interests. The stockmen had all been banded together in opposition to the forestry administration of the new régime, and Luck regarded Fendrick's action as treachery to the common cause. He struck back hard.
"For abducting Luck Cullison and holding him prisoner without his consent." Lazily Cass drawled a question. "Are you right sure Cullison can't be found?" "What do you mean?" "Are you right sure he ain't at home attending to his business?" "Has he come back?" "Maybe so. I'm not Luck Cullison's keeper." Bucky thought he understood. In return for the relinquishment Cullison had been released.
Just to remind me that Luck Cullison's daughter went out of her way to help one of Cass Fendrick's sheep." She ignored his sardonic mockery. "I don't let live creatures suffer when I can help it. Are you going to give me my handkerchief?" "Haven't made up my mind yet. Perhaps I'll have it washed and bring it home to you."
"Don't you see?" the girl explained, her eyes shining with excitement. "Father took the wrong hat. You know how absent-minded he is sometimes." Mackenzie slapped his knee. "I'll bet a stack of blues you've guessed it." "There's a way to make sure," Curly said. "I don't get you." "Fendrick couldn't wear Mr. Cullison's hat around without the risk of someone remembering it later.
In due season the bandits had gone over the road to Yuma. Soapy and the others had sworn to get their revenge some day. Now they were back in the hills at their old tricks. Was it possible that Cullison's son was with them, caught in a trap during some drunken frolic just as Curly had been?
Passing the fenced lane leading to the stable, they tied their ponies inside and took the places assigned to them by Cullison. They had not long to wait. In less than half an hour three shadowy figures slipped round the edge of the corral and up the lane. Each of them carried a rifle in addition to his hip guns. They slid into the open end of the stable. Cullison's voice rang out coldly.
How do we know he wasn't there a minute before? For if he didn't know the hold-up was going to occur why did he bring Mr. Cullison's hat with him punctured so neatly with bullet holes?" "I'll bet a thousand dollars he is at the bottom of this whole thing," Mackenzie added angrily. The sheriff flushed. "You gentlemen are entitled to your opinions just as I'm entitled to mine.
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