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Updated: May 31, 2025
Lawler saw the weapon belch smoke and fire as it cleared Antrim's hip; he felt a shock as the bullet struck him; felt still another sear his flesh near the arm as he let his own pistol off. He saw the outlaw plunge forward and fall prone, his arms outstretched. He was motionless, inert. From inside the cabin came the sounds of steps Antrim's confederates, Lawler supposed.
When he reached the big porch he dismounted, and an instant later was pounding heavily upon the front door. It was opened after an instant, and Mrs. Lawler appeared, pale, anxious. "Oh!" she said, startled, when she saw Antrim's face in the glare of light from within; "I thought you were one of the Circle L men!"
Two hours later Selden clattered to the door of the cabin and dismounted, conveying the news that Moreton and Lawler were riding north, toward Willets. And within a few minutes after the appearance of Selden, Slade and forty-eight of Antrim's men rode swiftly, scurrying into the star haze, straight into the south wind that swept out of the Wolf River valley.
Moore had already made a success in London society, which he followed up in the less exclusive circles of Dublin, and it was only between a party at the Provost's and another at Lady Antrim's that he could dash into the paternal shop for a few minutes to sing a couple of songs for his mother's guests. But the effect of his performance upon the Owenson sisters was electrical.
Some of the men inside were on their feet, expectant, suspicious. They grinned when they recognized the newcomers, calling variously to them in greeting. Antrim got to his feet when he saw Slade at the door, looking at him expectantly. When Slade grinned, telling Antrim that Moreton had ridden south, Antrim's eyes glittered with satisfaction.
As he guided Red King toward the cabin he peered vainly for sight of Antrim's horse. Not a living thing was in sight. The buildings were silent, seemingly deserted. And the atmosphere of the place seemed to be pregnant with a lurking threat, a hint of hidden danger.
Antrim wheeled his horse, and Lawler spurred Red King beside him. "I'll be watching you, Antrim," he warned. "If your men show they suspect anything wrong you go down, mighty rapid. You don't get off your horse until your men go. And there is to be no playing for time. You talk fast and earnest, and carefully. Go ahead." Riding slightly in Antrim's rear, Lawler followed the outlaw to the fire.
But neither his commands nor his example could infuse courage into that mob of cowstealers. He was left almost alone, and retired from the bank in despair. Further down the river Antrim's division ran like sheep at the approach of the English column. Whole regiments flung away arms, colours and cloaks, and scampered off to the hills without striking a blow or firing a shot,
He had a mortal dislike, poor Stransom, to lean anniversaries, and loved them still less when they made a pretence of a figure. Celebrations and suppressions were equally painful to him, and but one of the former found a place in his life. He had kept each year in his own fashion the date of Mary Antrim's death.
It was now four months since "the youthhood" of Derry had shut the Watergate against Lord Antrim's regiment, and established within their walls a strange sort of government, including eighteen clergymen and the town democracy.
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