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Updated: June 21, 2025
"So, Larry so, you've split on me already," the gambler interrupted, rising and narrowing his gaze upon the bloated face. "You've peddled it maybe, and now you come to me " "I ain't peddled nuthin'!" Trimmer cut in angrily. "I didn't tell no one but Barger, and he ain't no friend of Van Buren's. But Lawrence is caught.
He leaped his broncho clean against the wall, then spurred him straight for Barger. The shot that split the air again was splattered on the rocks. Before the convict could make ready to avoid the charge, Suvy was almost upon him. He partially fell and partially leaped a little from the broncho's path, but was struck as the pony bounded by.
A revenge like this would appeal to him, would seem to him singularly appropriate. Beth could have lent her assistance to the plan without guilty knowledge of an outcome such as this, and Bostwick Beth knew that Barger was Van's enemy. He had told her so himself. Facts were facts.
"Let's see. Barger is here in camp." Up shot the sheriff as if from the force of a blast. "What!" he shrilled. "Barger! Van, I'll " Van grinned. "Don't forget you're tired, Bill. Matt won't get away." "Good Lord, boy tell me where's he at!" cried Christler, dancing on the floor as he strapped his guns upon him. "Me a-thinkin' I had shot him up and all this time "
He brought back a basin of water, knelt on the ground, and bathed the convict's face. He poured some liquor between the dead-white lips. He slashed and unbuttoned the clothing and tried to staunch the wounds. He bound up the arm, put a bandage on the leg and body, continuing from time to time to dash cold water in the pallid, bearded face. Barger had fainted at last.
McClintic, of my mess, got this furlough by the enlistment of his brother, and while at home drummed up the son of a neighbor, William Barger, whom he brought back with him to repeat the operation. To allowing this second furlough the authorities, right or wrong, objected. The matter was compromised by McClintic very generously assigning the young recruit to my credit, by which I got the furlough.
The bullet went wide, and Barger fired again, quickly, but more steadily. That one landed. It got Van just along the arm, burning in a long, shallow wound that barely brought the blood. Van's gun was down, despite Suvy's panic of cavortings. He pulled the trigger. The hammer leaped two ways, up and back but the gun made no report, no buck, no cloud to answer Barger's.
"Van!" yelled Gettysburg again. "It's Barger! Barger! dead in the tent it's Barger up there dead!" Barger! The name acted as swiftly on the crowd as oil upon a flame. It seemed as if the wave of news swept like a tide across the street, down the thoroughfare, and into every shop. Two automobiles were halted in the road, their engines purring as they stood.
A yell broke suddenly, terribly, on the desert stillness. It came from Barger, out in the river, on the bar strangely anchored where he stood. Van saw him instantly, saw a human fantastic, struggling, writhing, twisting with maniacal might, the while the horrible quicksand held him by the legs, and swallowed him, inch by inch. "Fer Christ's sake help!" the creature shrilled in his plight.
"Barger!" he said. "What in thunder, man " The outlaw rallied his failing strength and raised himself up on one hand. He could barely speak, but his lips attempted a smile. "I thought I heard you call fer the joker," he said, "and so I come." Van was up. He saw that the man had been literally shot to pieces. One of his arms was broken. A portion of his scalp was gone.
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