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Updated: May 3, 2025
The bony fingers of one hand were wrapped around the corncob, which was his inseparable companion, and in the other he held the cloth with which he had been drying dishes. Jud turned from his pan of dishwater to cast a frightened glance over his shoulder. Pop did not wait for explanations. "Come in, Dozier," he invited. "Come in, boys. Glad to see you.
You see, Hal Dozier knows all that, and he knows there's hardly a man in the mountains who would be able to keep away from selling me. So that's why he won't search the houses." "Not you," corrected the trapper sharply. "Andy Lanning is the man Dozier wants." "Well, Andrew Lanning, then," smiled the guest. "It was just a slip of the tongue."
Hal Dozier stiffly invited Hank to join them in the manhunt; he was met by a solemn silence, and the request was not repeated. Dozier had done a disagreeable duty, and the whole posse was glad to be free of the traitor. In the meantime the morning was brightening rapidly, and Dozier led out his men.
It was the only tribute to the memory of Allister from his men, but tears and praise could not have been more eloquent. He had made these men fearless of the whole world. Now were they ready to jump at the passage of a shadow. They looked at each other with strange eyes. "Who? How many?" asked Jeff Rankin. "One man done it." "Hal Dozier?" said Andrew. "Him," said Larry la Roche.
Don't I know maybe you'd clean 'em all up?" "Pshaw!" said Pop, and flushed with delight. "You was always a fool kid, Jud. Now you run along to bed." In Hal Dozier there was a belief that the end justified the means.
The group opened; Bill Dozier found himself facing a bright-haired girl wrapped to the throat in a long coat, with slippers on her feet. "Not dead and not alive," he answered. "Just betwixt and between." "Thank God!" whispered the girl. "Thank God!" There was only one man in the group who should not have heard that whispered phrase, and that man was Charles Merchant. He was standing at her side.
From this position he commanded with his rifle the sweep of hillside all around the cabin. The greatest time of danger for Dozier was when Andrew had to scout through the adjacent hills for food their supply of meat ran out on the fourth day.
His voice was so unnecessarily loud, indeed, just as if the deputy were already under ground, that it occurred to Dozier that if a man were lying in that cellar he would be amply warned. And going down he walked with the lantern held to one side, to keep the light off his own body as much as possible; his hand kept at his hip.
Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until they came to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, but the deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and then knocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet. Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he had sold Andrew a horse.
It was a narrow-fronted, two-storied, unpainted, lonely place, without sign of a porch. Here, where there was no vestige of a town near, and where there was no telephone, the news of the deaths of Bill Dozier and Buck Heath could not have come. Andy accepted the house as a blessing and went straight toward it.
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