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Updated: May 10, 2025
In her concern over him she looked so charming that he would have agreed if she had told him the moon was made of green cheese. She shook her head thoughtfully, and went on: "I can't imagine even one of our badmen trying to murder you that way. Their usual course would be to come up to you, face to face, pick a quarrel, and beat you to it on the draw.
Just as sure as a hen lays eggs, it is due to be robbed on the first; they'll find something here to prove I was the hold up man, and I...." "And you go over the road for life or take a drop at the end of a rope? And they quit being badmen and buy ranches? That it?" "That's it. It's a gamble, but...." "But it's a damned good gamble," laughed Comstock softly. "You ought to be sheriff, Buck."
But he persisted, "No, you'll get over this scrap with our friend. By the way, I'll put the deputy onto him, in the next town. He'll never get out of the county. When you forget him Oh no, you can go on fine. You're a good steady driver, and the road's perfectly safe if you give people the once-over before you pick 'em up. Picking up badmen is no more dangerous here than it would be in New York.
Charlie appeared to have nothing to conceal. "Well, of a sort, I'd say," he replied. "You see, this was King Fisher's corral. There's others around the valley, though I don't know just where. King Fisher reigned nearly twenty years ago. He lived in the building the folks in Rocky Springs use as a Meeting House. He was pretty tough. One of the worst badmen ever hit this part.
He is one of the few men of the type that remain to link the range of today with the vanished world of the cattle frontier." "Yet you say that the fellow is only my age?" "In years, yes. But in type he belongs to the generation that is past the generation of longhorns, long drives, long Colt's, and short lives; of stampedes, and hats like yours, badmen, and Injins."
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