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Updated: May 22, 2025
"I did not spy upon you," cried Barnabas, stung at last, "or if I did, God knows it was well intended." "How, sir?" "I remembered the last time we three were together, in Annersley Wood." Here my lady shivered and hid her face. "And now, you gave him the rose! Do you want the love of this man, Cleone?"
The Concho had always claimed the right to run their cattle on the Blue Mesa with the Blue Range as a tentative line of demarcation. The T-Bar-T always claimed the Blue as part of their range. There had been some bickering until the killing of Annersley, when Bailey promptly issued word to his men to keep the Concho cattle north of the homestead.
"Sure he's dead!" reiterated Cotton. "Didn't I see them two holes plumb through him and the blood soakin' his shirt when I turned him over? If I'd 'a' had my gun on me that Young Pete would be right side of Steve, right now! But I couldn't do nothin' without a gun. Pete Annersley was plumb scared. That's why he killed Steve. Jest you gimme a gun and watch me ride him down!
Pete was repaid a thousand-fold for his efforts by the old man's occasional: "Couldn't 'a' done it any better myself, pardner." For Annersley seldom called the boy "Pete" now, realizing that "pardner" meant so much more to him. Pete had his rifle an old carbine, much scratched and battered by the brush and rock a thirty-thirty the old man had purchased from a cowboy in Concho.
Ruth was possessed by a very panic of dread of Geoffrey Annersley and an even more difficult to deal with flood of love for Larry Holiday. "I don't want anybody but Larry," she wailed over and over. "It is Larry I love. I don't love Geoffrey Annersley. I won't let him be my husband. I don't want anybody but Larry."
Here the Duchess sighed tenderly. "Well, you came to see Cleone, you found her, and nicely you behaved to each other when you met! Youth is always so dreadfully tragic! But then what would love be without a little tragedy? And oh dear heaven! how you must adore each other! Oh, Youth! Youth! and there's Sir George Annersley !"
I don't believe my own people are half as nice as you Holidays. I don't see how they could be." The doctor laughed at that. "We will let it go at that for the present. You will be singing another tune when your Geoffrey Annersley comes up the Hill to claim you." The girl's expressive face clouded over at that.
Then there were Bailey and Bill Haskins and several others among the Concho outfit who would never see one of their own get the worst of it. Gary turned and slunk away toward his own wagon. One after another the T-Bar-T boys rose and followed. The Annersley raid was not a popular subject with them. Bailey turned to Long. "Thanks, Bud." "'Mornin', Jim," said Long facetiously.
Geoffrey Annersley served his purpose for Ted as well as Larry Holiday. Annersley was immensely interested in the confession. It matched very well he thought with that other story of a gallant young Holiday to whom his cousin Elinor owed so much in more than one way. They were a queer lot these Holidays. They had the courage of their convictions and tilted at windmills right valiantly it seemed.
The sheriff, who had always respected Annersley, was sorry that this thing had happened. Yet he was not sorry that Young Pete could give no evidence. The cattlemen would have time to pretty well cover up their tracks. Annersley had known the risks he was running when he took up the land. The sheriff told his own conscience that "it was just plain suicide."
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