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Updated: June 2, 2025
For though the net of the round-up had gathered hundreds of stolen cattle and most of those engaged in the business of brand-blotting, Prince knew his job would not be finished if Roush and Albeen escaped. He quartered over the ground foot by foot. The camp of the rustlers had been here and the footsteps showed there had been three. Yankie was accounted for. That left Roush and Albeen.
The trailer had no doubt in his mind that Roush was the man who had tried to slip away to the horse. Albeen was a gun-fighter, quick on the shoot, hasty of temper, but with the reputation of being both game and stanch. It would not be in character for him to leave a companion in the lurch. In the scrub pines at the foot of the arroyo Prince found the place where a horse had been tied.
He made his brags how you got the blame for it an' would have to hang." "Albeen heard him say it an' Dumont too?" "Tha's right, Mr. Clanton. An' I'll sure take my Bible oath on it." Go-Get-'Em Jim whipped out the forty-five from its holster and fired. Roush dropped screaming to the ground. He thought he had been shot. The bullet had cut the rope above his head.
A messenger just got in to say he died." "Billie isn't wounded?" "No. Not his fault, though. When we had the rustlers cornered, he crawled in through the brush to their camp. Fool business, I told him. Never saw anything gamer. Lucky for him Albeen had made his get-away." The eyes of the girl thanked the deputy for this indirect praise. Little patches of red burned in her dusky cheeks.
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