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Updated: May 17, 2025
Faith in her father was a rock not to be washed away by any amount of evidence. What made her wince was the amount of circumstantial testimony falling into place so inexorably against him. "Is that all?" she asked despairingly. "I wish it were, Miss Cullison. But it's not. A man came round the corner and shot at the robber as he was escaping. His hat fell off. Here it is."
Cass did not expect this, for the owner of the Circle C was a man whose word was better than most men's bond. But the agreement had been forced upon him through a trick. How far he might feel this justified him in ignoring it the sheepman did not know. O'Connor got the Circle C on long distance. It was the clear contralto of a woman that answered his "Hello!" "Is this Miss Cullison?" he asked.
She held out her two hands to him with a little gesture of surrender. The light of love was in her starry eyes. And then She was in his arms, and the kisses he had dreamed about were on his lips. Kate Cullison had disappeared, had gone out riding one morning and at nightfall had not returned. As the hours passed, anxiety at the Circle C became greater. "Mebbe she got lost," Bob suggested.
When Curly came to think it over later, if he had been given three guesses as to who had told Kate Cullison what was on the program he would have guessed Maloney each time. "Now that you've relieved your mind proper, Miss Cullison, I expect any of the boys will be glad to escort you back to the house," Kite suggested with an acid smile. "What have you got to do with this?" she flamed.
You've caused that young lady a heap of trouble already. Are you going to unload a lot more on her just because you want to be pigheaded. Only a kid struts around and hollers 'Who's afraid? No, it's up to you to pull out, not because of Luck Cullison but on account of his daughter." "Who is such a thorough friend of mine," the sheepman added with his sardonic grin. "What do you care about that?
"There's a prospect hole down there," Blackwell explained savagely. "You'd go down the Devil's Slide what's left of you, I mean deep into that prospect hole. The timberings are rotted and the whole top of the working ready to cave in. When your body hits it there will be an avalanche with Mr. Former-sheriff Cullison at the bottom of it.
As for his subsequent silence that could be explained by his desire not to mix himself in the affairs of one with whom he was upon unfriendly terms. The irrefutable fact that he had saved the life of Cullison would go a long way as presumptive proof of his innocence. "I see you are wearing your gray hat again? What have you done with the brown one?"
Now he stepped in to save the man with an alternative at which Blackwell might be expected not to snatch eagerly perhaps, but at least to be driven toward. "This man is my prisoner, Mr. Cullison. From what I can make out you ought to strip his hide off and hang it up to dry. But I've got first call on him.
"I'll attend to that, Miss Cullison. I am in Fendrick's room now. Make your mind easy." Bucky hung up and turned to the sheepman. The latter showed him a face of derision. He had gathered one thing that disquieted him, but he did not intend to let O'Connor know it. "Well?" he jeered. "Find friend Cullison in tolerable health?" "I've been talking with his daughter." "I judged as much.
Quickly he sealed the flap of the envelope again, and held it pressed against his fingers while he waited. "A letter for you, Sam." Cullison tore open the envelope and read the note. "A friend of mine has come to town and wants to see me," he explained. To help out his bluff, Curly sprang the feeble-minded jest on him. "Blonde or brunette?"
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