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Updated: June 27, 2025
They're figurin' to stay there. An', Lawler they're Blondy Antrim an' his gang of cutthroats!" When Gary Warden stepped off the east-bound train at Willets one evening in April to be met by Singleton, who had been apprised of the day of his coming and who had been in town for two days waiting there was an expectant smile on his face. A change seemed to have come over the town.
He added eagerly, "Say, Jimmy, she's just the one for you. You're so blondy blonde you need a real brunette to set off your charms." "Sorry, Tom. Saw too much of some one else coming up to Aden and before. Shouldn't have to remind you of that." "Damn the luck!" swore Blake. "Well, we've come to the show-down. She's home now; agreement's off." "To-morrow," corrected his friend. "Lord!
His voice filled the room with a thick, dull echo, and there was Betty behind her desk looking up at him agape; and beside her stood Blondy Hansen, big, good looking, and equally startled. Fear made the glance of Vic Gregg swerve to where little Tommy Aiken scribbled an arithmetic problem on the blackboard afterschool work for whispering in class, or some equally heinous crime.
"I'll be calling for you at seven o'clock." "I won't be there." "Then I'll call on Blondy." "You don't dare to. Don't you try to bluff me. I'm not that kind." "Betty, d'you mean that? D'you think that I'm yaller?" "I don't care what you are." "I ask you calm and impersonal, just think that over before you say it." "I've already thought it over."
"All right, boys," he said, "you've got me, but you'll have to give in that you had all the luck." A moment after that sharp command in the familiar, dreaded voice of Pete Glass, Vic had been glad that the lone flight was over. Eventually this was bound to come. He would go back and face the law, and three men lived to swear that Blondy had gone after his gun first.
I've come here in good faith. I've been in camps like this before in Kelso's, Dave Rance's, Blondy Larkin's, an' some others. Them men are outlaws like you an' me; an' they've done things that make them greater than you an' me in our line. But I've visited them, free an' easy goin' an' comin' whenever I pleased. An' no man threatenin' me. "Your manners is irritatin' to me I'm tellin' you so.
I'm going back, right off." "Lookin' for a kid, eh? What sort of one is he?" teased Mr. Simms. "Augh, Jim Latimer says he was bigger'n him, but a blondy. And he said he looked a Tenderfoot all through. I asked Red Mike if a feller stopped at his eatin' place for a snack, but Mike tole me he ain't seen no stranger in Oak Crick, this week," Jake grumbled.
I seen her grin eloquent at Lawler, an' look him straight in the eye like she was tellin' him somethin' intimate. "Well, as I was sayin', Lawler an' his boys got off with Blondy Antrim. Antrim looks wild an' flighty like you've seen a locoed steer on the prod. His eyes was a-glarin' an' he was mutterin' cusses by the mouthful. All of which didn't seem to faze Lawler none.
"They ain't any call for me to wear crepe yet," answered Gregg. "Worst fool thing I ever done was to cut and run for it. The old Captain will tell you gents that Blondy went for his gun first had it clean out of the leather before I touched mine." He paused, and the silence of those dark figures sank in upon him.
"That's mebbe Lawler's old woman, settin' up, wonderin' what her boy's been grabbed by the law for," he sneered. "Well, she'll be wonderin' more after Blondy gits through with him." Slade chuckled, but said nothing. He was hoping that by this time on the morrow Antrim would have discovered that Kane Lawler could "sling" a gun with the speed and accuracy he had used in the old days.
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