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Updated: June 19, 2025
"I can't tell you that." "Then yore story doesn't interest me a whole lot." "Different here," dissented Wrayburn. "Do you know how badly Clanton is hurt, Jack?" "No. He was able to ride out of town, but my friend told me to say he wasn't able to ride now. You'll have to send a wagon for him." Wrayburn turned to the foreman. "Joe, we've got to go back an' help the boys." "Not on yore topknot, Dad.
He could not tell her that Clanton was suspected of rustling and that his name had been mentioned in connection with robbery of the mail. These charges were not proved. Prince himself still loyally denied their truth, though evidence was beginning to pile up against the young gunman. He had warned Clanton, and Jim had clapped him on the shoulder, laughed, and invited him to take a drink with him.
Before morning your friends ought to arrive." "If they got yore message." "Oh, they got it. Jack Goodheart carried it." The riflemen across the river were silent for a time. When they began sniping again, it was from such an angle that they could aim at the cave without endangering those above. Both Clanton and Prince returned the fire. Presently Lee touched on the shoulder the man beside her.
Even by easy stages he could not do it, and with pursuit thundering at their heels the ride would be a cruel, grilling one. "How about pullin' a little strategy on Sanders, Jim? Instead of hittin' the long trail, let's circle back around the town, strike the river, make camp, an' lie low in the chaparral. Does that listen good to you?" Young Clanton looked at his friend suspiciously.
In the night, alone in the friendly darkness, her hot face pressed into the cool pillows, she confessed to herself that she loved him and longed for the sight of his strong, good-looking face with its smile of whimsical humor. But that was when she was safe from the eyes of the world. Now, to punish herself and to prevent him from suspecting the truth, she devoted her attention mainly to Clanton.
It was close to evening before the job was finished and the outfit returned to camp. Billie rode up to the wagon with the old man. Leaning against a saddle on the ground, a flank steak in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, lounged Jim Clanton. Webb, hard-eyed and stiff, looked at the young man, "Had a pleasant vacation, Clanton?" "I don't know as I would call it a vacation, Mr. Webb.
The fierce crackling of the flames rolled toward them. The wind served at least the one purpose of lifting the smoke so that it did not stifle those on the river-bank. Clanton crept up from the cave and joined them. "Looks like we're goin' out with fireworks, Billie," he grinned. "That's nonsense," said Lee sharply. "There's a way of escape, if only we can find it."
The hideous dissonance came from the side of the herd farthest from the camp. Together the two riders galloped toward it. "Peg-Leg Warren's work," guessed Clanton. "Sure," agreed Billie. "Trying to stampede the herd." Already the cattle were bawling in wild terror, surging toward the camp to escape this unknown danger. Both of the punchers drew their revolvers and fired rapidly into the herd.
The drawling voice of the prisoner followed him. "Don't you worry, Polly. They can't hang me if I ain't there, can they?" The deputy guessed that Pauline wished to talk alone with Clanton. Presently he arose and sauntered to the door. "I want to see yore father about some horses Billie needs. Back soon."
Clanton waited no longer. They might return, or they might not. He did not intend to stay to find out. Swiftly he ran toward the aspens. Half the distance he had covered when a voice called sharply to halt. The guard had turned and caught sight of him. The feet of the running man slapped the ground faster. As he dodged into the trees a bullet flew past him.
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