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Updated: June 21, 2025
As they arrived, unseen, they were in time to see the late fighting men clamber into their automobiles. Hawkins could be heard giving directions for the further search for Reade and Hazelton. Then the cars started away. "What do you reckon?" demanded Jeff, looking at Bodson.
"I expect to die with my boots on to-night. I reckon Jeff has figured it out the same way." "I have," Moore answered coolly, as he stepped over beside Bodson. Then deliberately, yet with an indescribably swift motion, he drew two revolvers. "Stand out, Jim Duff! Be a man, for once in your miserable career," ordered Rafe Bodson.
"Not if there's going to be any more hitting of tied men," retorted Bodson sulkily. "There's a limit to what a man can stand." "Thank you, my friend," broke in Tom Reade mildly. "But don't go to any trouble on our account. There are few if any others in this crowd who can understand the meaning of fair play the gambler least of all." "I'll take that out of you, Reade!" blazed Jim Duff. "I'll "
"How d'ye like that, Rafe?" queried Jeff Moore, as Jim Duff stepped back and viewed the young engineers with a diabolical smile before giving the fatal signal. "I don't like it," muttered Bodson. "No more do I." "Shall we stop it?" "Yes. I'm sick of Jim Duff. This night has turned me against the smooth-tongued coward." "Get busy, then, Rafe!" "Shall we stand the crowd off and set the boys free?"
"We're not in charge," retorted Bodson sullenly. "All we've undertaken to do is to look out for the square deal that you promised, Duff, and which you didn't exhibit in a way that we liked. As for the rest, go ahead when you like but don't do any more hitting with your fists." "We'll go ahead with the lariat, then?" hinted Duff eagerly.
"You let Duff and myself and the rest of us here handle these young hounds as they deserve to be treated. You, Rafe and Jeff, get out of this. You've no business here. You belong to the enemies of business interests in Paloma. The rest of us will settle with these business destroyers." Ashby's eyes glowed with the unbridled fury of the lunatic. Yet Rafe Bodson did not waver.
"You'll do nothing while the kid's hands are tied," objected Bodson, stepping between the pair. "Act fair and square, Jim, as a man should act." "That's the argument, Rafe," remarked another man, also stepping forward. "Bully for you, Jeff Moore," replied Rafe.
In the same instant Jeff Moore had also drawn his revolver, and held it ready for the first hostile sign from anyone in the group. "What's the matter with you, Rafe?" demanded the gambler, in a half-coaxing tone. "Nothing," Bodson assured him calmly, "except that I'm going to blow your head off if you aren't down on your knees before I've counted three! One two th "
When Duff returned to consciousness he found himself gazing into the muzzle of an automatic revolver. Harry and Bodson made a quick, sure job of tying Ashby's wrists with a cord that Rafe supplied. "You think you've stopped me, don't you?" snarled the hotel man, wild with rage. "We stopped you in time to keep you from shooting down two men who were at your mercy," retorted Harry sternly.
Griggs is now a prosperous man, and, best of all, he has his little daughter with him. Lessee Carter has flourished in the new railroad hotel. Rafe Bodson and Jeff Moore are his clerks. The day came when Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton were able to apply the final and most severe test to the roadbed that ran across the Man-killer quicksand.
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