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"For abducting Luck Cullison and holding him prisoner without his consent." Lazily Cass drawled a question. "Are you right sure Cullison can't be found?" "What do you mean?" "Are you right sure he ain't at home attending to his business?" "Has he come back?" "Maybe so. I'm not Luck Cullison's keeper." Bucky thought he understood. In return for the relinquishment Cullison had been released.
"He's got you bluffed to a fare-you-well. You're tame enough to eat out of his hand. Didn't Luck Cullison go into the hills and bring him down all alone?" Flandrau demanded. "Luck's another wonder. There ain't another man in Arizona could have done it. Leastways no other but Bucky O'Connor."
"Are you in this, Bucky?" asked Cullison evenly. "You're right I am. He's my prisoner." "What for?" "For robbing the W. & S." Luck's face lit. "Have you evidence enough to cinch him?" "Not enough yet. But I'll take no chances on his getting away." The cattleman's countenance reflected his thoughts as his decision hung in the balance. He longed to pay his debt on the spot.
It counted for a good deal that Alec Flandrau, Billy Mackenzie, and Luck Cullison were known to be backing him, but it was worth much more that his wife of a week sat beside him in the courtroom. Every time they looked at the prisoner the jurymen saw too her dusky gallant little head and slender figure. They remembered the terrible experience through which she had so recently passed.
There was more than one anxious heart at the Circle C waiting for the verdict of the bowlegged baldheaded little man with the satchel, but not one of them no, not even Kate Cullison herself was in a colder fear than Curly Flandrau. He was entitled to a deep interest, for if Cullison should die he knew that he would follow him within a few hours.
I notice there's liable to be trouble between Fendrick and the cattle interests over his sheep," the reader answered casually. "Yep. Between Fendrick and Cullison, anyhow." Stone had reclaimed and pocketed his time table. Incidentally Flandrau's doubt had been converted into a lively suspicion. Presently he took a gun, and strolled off to shoot birds.
That's a fac'. I can explain all that, but I'm sick now awful sick." Cullison laughed harshly. "You'll be sicker soon." "You promised you wouldn't do anything if we turned you loose," the man plucked up courage to remind him. "I promised the law wouldn't do anything. You'll understand the distinction presently." "Mr. Cullison, please I admit I done wrong.
They did the town together in a mild fashion and Flandrau proposed that they save money by taking a common room. To this young Cullison agreed. Luck, Curly and Dick Maloney had already ridden over the country surrounding the scene of the projected hold-up.
"If I knew Luck Cullison, I would be sure there was a mistake somewhere, and I would look for foul play. I would believe anything except that he was guilty anything in the world. You know he has enemies." The sheriff liked her spirited defense no less because he could not agree with her. "Yes, I know that. The trouble is that these incriminating facts don't come in the main from his enemies."
"He'll run into trouble good and hard one of these days. When I'm in Rattlesnake Gulch I don't aim to pick posies too unobservant." Mackenzie looked worried. No man lived whom he admired so much as Luck Cullison. "And he hadn't ought to be sitting in these big games. He's hard up. Owes a good bit here and there. Always was a spender. First thing he'll have to sell the Circle C to square things.
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