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"This new man, Banion, that come in with the Missouri wagons he taken hit on hisself to say, atter the fight was over, we orto stop an' bury all them Injuns! Well, I been on the Plains an' in the Rockies all my life, an' I never yit, before now, seed a Injun buried. Hit's onnatcherl. But this here man he, now, orders a ditch plowed an' them Injuns hauled in an' planted. Hit's wastin' time.

Men of Iowa, of Illinois, Ohio, Indiana, began to nod to one another, approving the words of this young man. "He talks sense," said a voice aloud. "Well, I'm talking a whole lot, I know," said Banion gravely, "but this is the time and place for our talking. I'm for throwing in with the Wingate train, as I've said. But will Captain Wingate let me add even just a few words more?

"How far'll we be out, at Laramie?" demanded Molly Wingate of the train scout, Bridger, whom Banion had sent on to Wingate in spite of his protest. "Nigh onto six hundred an' sixty-seven mile they call hit, ma'am, from Independence to Laramie, an' we'll be two months a-makin' hit, which everges around ten mile a day." "But it's most to Oregon, hain't it?" "Most to Oregon?

Wingate turned in time to see his daughter fall to the ground in a sheer faint. Will Banion slipped from his saddle and hurried forward. Jesse Wingate made a swift instinctive motion toward the revolver which swung at his hip. But Jed sprang between him and Banion. "No! Hold on, Pap stop!" cried Jed. "It's all right. I brought him in. "As a prisoner?"

Then I told him who I was. He gave me this." "What is it?" She turned to her lover. He held in his hands a long package, enfolded in an otter skin. "Is it a court summons for Will Banion? They can't have you, Will!" He smiled, her head held between his two hands. "'I have a very important document for Colonel William Banion, the clerk said to me.

Of the two, young Woodhull, planter and man of means, mentioned by Molly's mother as open suitor, himself at first sight had not seemed so ill a figure, either. Tall, sinewy, well clad for the place and day, even more foppish than Banion in boot and glove, he would have passed well among the damsels of any courthouse day.

We didn't no ways eleck him he was app'inted. Mostly, elected is better'n app'inted. An' I seen afore now, no man can hold his place on the trail unless'n he's fatten. We'll eleck Will Banion our cap'n, an' you fellers kin go to hell. What us fellers started out to do was to go to Oregon." "But that'll mean the train's split!" "Shore hit will! Hit is split right now.

"You're a liar and a coward, Sam!" said he. "Shoot, if you've got the nerve!" Incredible, yet the man was a natural murderer. His eye narrowed. There came a swift motion, a double empty click! "Try again, Sam!" said Banion, taunting him. "Bad luck you landed on an empty!" He did try again. Swift as an adder, his hands flung first one and then the other weapon into action.

It looks like trouble. I don't want trouble." "Nor do I," rejoined Banion. "We started out for Oregon as friends. It seems to me that should remain our purpose. No little things should alter that." "Precisely. But little things have altered it. I don't propose to pass on any quarrel between you and one of our people a man from your own town, your own regiment.

The pilgrims is tryin' to make coffins fer 'em out'n cottonwood logs." "Lucky for all!" Jackson interrupted the garrulity of the other. "We buried men in blankets on the Vermilion a few days back. The Pawnees got a small camp o' our own folks." "Yes, I know all about that." "What's that?" cut in Banion. "How do you know?"