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Updated: June 5, 2025
The foreman's wife, a plump, cheery woman, liked nothing better than to joke with the men. Presently Pete came out bearing the half of a large, thick, juicy pie in his hands. He marched to the bunkhouse and sat down near the men but not too near. He ate pie and said nothing. When he had finished the pie, he rolled a cigarette and smoked, in huge content.
And yet, as he walked into the bunkhouse a few minutes later, no one looking at the outward impassiveness of that calm face would have even the remotest suspicion of the hell of resentful anger and outraged vanity burning in his heart.
It seemed to him that he could still feel her in his arms, and a great regret that she distrusted him assailed him. He had sat for a long time on the threshold of the bunkhouse door, and after a time he noted that the moon was swimming high, almost overhead. He got up, unhurriedly, and again walked to the stable door, looking in at Purgatory.
"I don't reckon you done just right in askin' him here after what he said in the Red Dog," returned Dade. Calumet seemed amused. "Shucks, you're a kid yet," he said. He ignored Dade, giving his attention to Taggart, who was now near the bunkhouse.
"Calamity, if that person wants anything, tell him to go out to the bunkhouse and see the foreman." Then, she sank back in her chair both glad and sorry in one breath that Wayland had not been there.
As they went past the barns and the bunkhouse where several men now slept they heard, as though coming out of the past, the loud snoring of the rapidly ageing farm hand, Jim Priest, and then above that sound and above the sound of the animals stirring in the barns arose another sound, a sound shrill and intense, greetings perhaps to an unborn Hugh McVey.
Never again would he be taken like a rabbit in a trap. He felt that, to stand clear before the law, he would have to wait for them to push their fight on him, but he vowed they never would find him unprepared, asleep or awake, under roof or under sky. He would get Taterleg to oil up a pair of pistols from among the number around the bunkhouse and leave them with him that night.
Dat is imposseeb to mak' de cook for den seeck mans hall aroun'." "What? Do they sit around where you are cooking?" "Certainment. Dat's warm plas. De bunkhouse she's col. Poor feller! But she's mak' me beeg troub'. She's cough, cough, speet, speet. Bah! dat's what you call lak' one beas'." The doctor strode into the cook-house.
"That seems the only feasible thing to do, but how could we keep watch without the person or persons who inhabit that place discovering our presence?" asked the practical Garry. "There's one way out of that difficulty," offered Dick, "and that is to effect an entrance to the big bunkhouse, and rig up some sort of a peephole, and keep watch of the place in that manner.
From the bunkhouse other men were running rapidly in the direction of the fight, attracted by the first shots. Billy and Eddie stood their ground, a few paces apart. Two more of Villa's men went down. Grayson ran for cover. Then Billy Byrne dropped the last of the Mexicans just as the men from the bunkhouse came panting upon the scene. There were both Americans and Mexicans among them.
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