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Updated: June 6, 2025
It was whispered about, as was every smallest happening, and came to the ears of Courtrey himself, who had promised those vague things for the future on the fateful night. But Courtrey was playing a waiting game. He was obsessed with the image of Tharon. Sooner or later he meant to have her, to install her at the Valley's head. He had always had what he wanted.
Think he mistook th' False Ridge drop. Ain't no man could make it up again without th' hammer spike an' rope." "H'm don't know. Don't know," mused Courtrey. "I've always thought it could be done. There ought to be a way on th' other side, seems like." "Well, ought an' is is two diff'rent things, Buck," grinned Bullard. "Sure," nodded the king, "sure. An' yet " "Hello, Buck."
But he wants more he wants me. He's offered me th' last insult, an' as Jim Last's daughter I'm a-goin' to even up my score with him, an' it's got three counts. You've all got scores against him." Here there were murmurs through the silent group. "Th' next outrage from Courtrey, on any one of us, gets all of us together.
You may belong to Government, an' you may belong to Courtrey, an' I'm against 'em both." She walked with him to the door, stepped out, as if with some thought to soften her unprecedented treatment of the stranger under her roof. She noted the trim figure of him in its peculiar garb, the proud carriage, the even and easy comportment under insult.
His eyes were narrowed as he looked into her face. "For God's sake!" he said, "what makes you think that?" "Knowledge," said Lola, "long knowledge of women and men." "If I thought that," said Courtrey slowly, his eyes losing sight of her as he seemed to look beyond her. "If I thought that why, hell! If that's th' truth why, it it's th' lever!"
Every soul within hearing knew the words for the utter and absolute truth, yet Courtrey looked at Wylackie Bob, at Arizona, and laughed. "Like hell, you have!" he said, struck the Ironwood and was gone around the corner of the house with the sound of thunder. Ellen wet her lips and looked around like a wounded animal.
There was no other horse in Lost Valley like the great king! Neither Redbuck nor Golden nor Drumfire! Neither Sweetheart nor Westwind! No, nor any Ironwood Bay that came down from Courtrey's Stronghold, Bolt and Arrow not excepted. Tharon laughed and stroked the king's neck, thewed like steel beneath her hands. She had no fear of Courtrey and his hired killers.
They were too far away for speech, out of rifle range, but the still, grim defiance of that compact front halted the outlaw cattle king and his followers. For the first time in all his years of rising power in Lost Valley Courtrey felt a challenge. For the first time he knew that a tide was banking in full force against him.
Not a man there but knew she was more dangerous at the moment than cool Jim Last had ever been, for she radiated hatred of her father's killer in every bitter glance. She had none for whom to be cautious. She was the last of her blood. She was efficient, and she knew it. Courtrey knew it, and felt the sweat start on his skin. Service knew it, and hated her for it.
"It's th' law that's here," she said and there was an instant coldness in her voice, "an' it's th' law that'll last until Courtrey or I go down." The man, watching, saw that thinning of the lips, the hardening of all the young lines of her face. He knew he had blundered. Talk was cheap. It was action that counted in Lost Valley.
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