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Updated: May 19, 2025
Clanton came back out of the haze to find his friend's arm around his waist, the sound of his strong, cheerful voice in his ears. "Steady, old fellow, steady. Where did they hit you, Jim?" "In the shoulder. I'm sick." Billie supported him to a chair and called to the bartender, who was cautiously rising from a prone position behind the bar. "Bring a glass of water, Mike."
He drew his head in and handed the weapons back to his friend. "Don't I make a good deputy, Billie? I didn't fire even once." "They Can't Hang Me If I ain't There" The jury brought in a verdict of murder in the first degree. Clanton was sentenced to be hanged at Live-Oaks four weeks after the day the trial ended.
"I find it in my Bible." "That's where my dad found it too, doctor." With which cryptic utterance Clanton led the way out of the office to the hotel.
Unless you want to have yore pelt hung up to dry, keep away from any of the Flying V Y ranges. As for Yankie, if you go back to yore hole you'll likely find him. I kicked the hound out two hours ago." "Like you did me three years ago," suggested Clanton, looking straight at the grizzled cowman.
A little chuckle of amusement escaped from his throat. "To the day of his death he'll think we sent word to Go-Get-'Em Jim. I'll bet my next pay-check against a dollar Mex that he forgets to send you that address." Billie availed himself of the invitation of Clanton to make himself at home. He and his posse spent the night in the dug-out and returned to Los Portales next day.
Yet the older man noticed that his white lips could scarcely find strength to make the indomitable boast. Very gently Billie lifted the wounded man and put him on the back of the cowpony. He held him there and guided the animal through the sand to the bend. Clanton hung on with clenched teeth, calling on the last ounce of power in his exhausted body with his strong will.
He had been working for revenge against the family he hated, especially against brave old Clay Clanton who had killed two of his kin within the year. With the craft inherited from savage ancestors he had sent a wound more deadly than any rifle bullet could carry. The Clantons were proud folks, and he had dragged their pride in the mud.
So through the good-will of Curly Bill young Breckenbridge recovered the thoroughbred from the man who had stolen it and brought it to Tombstone without being obliged to reach for his own gun. And moreover there were no hard feelings about it when he rode back into no-man's-land the next time. So far as Frank McLowery and the Clanton boys were concerned the incident was closed.
Since that rain yesterday there's not one chance in fifty of runnin' down the rustlers, but you might happen to stumble on the place where they've got the cattle cached." "You're goin' down about this Webb murder?" "Yes. I'm goin' to work out some plans. It will take some strategy to land Clanton. He's lived out in the hills for years and he knows every foot of cover in the country."
Prince gave up his attempt to change her mind. If she would stay, she would. He set about arranging the defense. Young Clanton crept out to the mouth of the cave and lay down with his rifle beside him. His friend piled up the tumble weeds in front of him. "We're right enough in front easy enough to stand 'em off there," reflected Billie, aloud.
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