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Updated: June 19, 2025
"Of course, that is just what the sheriff would think." "Folks can always see what they want to, Arlie," Jed commented. "Now, I can't see all that, by a lot." "It isn't necessary you should, Mr. Briscoe," Fraser retorted. "Or else I see a good deal more, lieutenant," Jed returned, with his smooth smile. "Mebbe the sheriff helped you on your way because you're such a good detective.
"What's the use of talking that way, Jed? Are you threatening Mr. Fraser? If anything happens to him, I'll remember this," Arlie told him. "Have I mentioned any threats, Arlie? It is well known that Lieutenant Fraser has enemies here. It don't take a prophet to tell that, after what happened the other night." "Any more than it takes a prophet to tell that you are one of them."
"Two of them are right here. Suppose we find out." He stepped to the door of the inner office, and opened it. From the room emerged Dillon and his daughter. The Texan looked at Arlie in blank amazement. "This young lady says she was present, lieutenant, and knows who fired the shot that killed Faulkner." The ranger saw only Arlie. His gaze was full of deep reproach.
On a sunny forenoon, when he lay in the big window of the living room, reading a magazine, Arlie entered, a newspaper in her hand. Her eyes were strangely bright, even for her, and she had a manner of repressed excitement, Her face was almost colorless. "Here's some more in the Avalanche about our adventure near Gimlet Butte," she told him, waving the paper.
The fretted moonlight, shifting with the gentle motion of the foliage above, fell full upon him now and showed a wet, red stain against the white shirt. Simultaneously outraged nature collapsed, and he began to sink to the ground. Arlie gave a little cry and ran forward. Before he reached the ground he had fainted; yet scarcely before she was on her knees beside him with his head in her arms.
It would not have been her choice to ride home with the lieutenant of rangers, but since her father had made the appointment publicly she did not care to make objection. Yet she took care to let Fraser see that he was in her black books. The men rode toward the rear of the herd, one on each side, and Arlie fell in beside her old playmate, Dick.
"Is it would it be any use to say any more, Arlie?" he asked, in a low voice, as he stood beside her, with Teddy's nose in his hands. "I I don't know what you mean, sir. Please don't say anything more about it." Then again memory of the other girl flamed through her. "No, it wouldn't not a bit of use, not a bit," she broke out fiercely. "You mean you couldn't "
"Can you ride, Steve? Do you reckon you could make out the five miles?" Dick asked. Arlie answered for him. She had felt the inert weight of his heavy body and knew that he was beyond helping himself. "No. Is there no house near? There's Alec Howard's cabin." "He's at the round-up, but I guess we had better take Steve there if we could make out to get him that far." The girl took command quietly.
The youngster took careful aim, and fired. A scream from the sagebrush just one, and then no more. "Bully for you', Arlie," the old man said. None of them spoke for some minutes, then Fraser heard a sob a stifled one, but unmistakable none the less. "Don't be afraid, kid. We'll stand 'em off," the Texan encouraged. "I ain't afraid, but I I Oh, God, I've killed a man."
"I didn't know that, though I knew, of course, he was fearless," Arlie said. "What's that?" Dick drew in his horse sharply, and looked back. The sound of a rifle shot echoed from hillside to hillside. Like a streak of light, the girl's pinto flashed past him. He heard her give a sobbing cry of anguish. Then he saw that Steve was slipping very slowly from his saddle. A second shot rang out.
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