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Updated: May 19, 2025
It was as though both knew that a distant day would bring another clash between them. Braman fingered the paper uncertainly, and looked at Corrigan. "I suppose this is all regular?" he said. "You ought to know something about it it's a check from the railroad company for the right-of-way through Mr. Trevison's land." Corrigan's eyes brightened as he examined the check.
He saw the mass sway in unison, stiffen, stand rigid; and he turned his head quickly, to see the door behind him, and the broken window through which he had thrown Braman the break running the entire width of the building filled with men armed with rifles. He divined the situation, sensed his danger the danger that faced the crowd should one of its members make a hostile movement.
Mebbe in an hour." Rosalind went out upon the platform. The agent's words had revived a horror that she had almost forgotten that she wanted to forget the murder of Braman. She walked to the edge of the station platform, tortured by thoughts in which she could find no excuse for Trevison. Murderer and robber! A fugitive from justice the very justice he had been demanding!
He had threatened to kill Braman. I watched him cross the street and go around to the rear of the bank building. There was a light in the rear room of the bank. After a while Braman and Corrigan entered the banking room. The light from the rear room shone on them for an instant and I recognized them. They were at the safe. When they went out they left the safe door open.
"I told you he is a tough one!" he reminded. Corrigan got to his feet. "Yes he's a tough one," he admitted. "I'm forced to alter my plans a little that's all. But I'll get him. Hunt up something to eat," he directed; "I'm hungry. I'm going to the station for a few minutes." He went out, and the banker watched him until he vanished around the corner of a building. Then Braman shook his head.
I shall be away from Manti for about two weeks, I think. During my absence any pending litigation must be postponed, of course." The letter was signed by Judge Lindman, and postmarked "Dry Bottom." Corrigan got up after a while and stuffed the letter into a pocket. He went out, and when he returned, Braman had gone out also to supper, Corrigan surmised.
For the lady received him in a loose wrapper and gracefully disordered hair, a glance at which made Braman gasp in unfeigned admiration. "What's this?" he demanded with a pretense of fatherly severity, which he imagined became him very well in the presence of women. "Not ready yet, Mrs. Harvey?"
Instruct her to say mistake made. No offense intended. Hustle. Braman slipped his clothes on and ran down the track to the private car. He had known J. C. Benham several years and was aware that when he issued an order he wanted it obeyed, literally. The negro autocrat of the private car met him at the platform and grinned amply at the banker's request.
"Who are you?" He urged his horse forward. But he was brought to a quick halt when Barkwell's voice came again: "Talk from where you are!" "That goes," laughed the man. "Trevison here?" "What you wantin' of him?" "Plenty. We're deputies. Trevison burned the courthouse and the bank tonight and killed Braman. We're after him." "Well, he ain't here." Barkwell laughed. "Burned the courthouse, did he?
Additional evidence on this point collected quickly. It came from several doors, in the shapes of other men who had heard the first man's shout, and presently the rider was surrounded by many friends. The girl was deeply interested. She forgot Braman, Corrigan forgot that she was standing in the doorway of the bank.
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