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Updated: June 2, 2025
Fletcher, standing out alone before the others of his clan, watched the posse out of sight. "Luck fer you-all thet Poggy wasn't here," he said, as they disappeared. Then with a thoughtful mien he strode up on the porch and led Duane away from the others into the bar-room. When he looked into Duane's face it was somehow an entirely changed scrutiny. "Dodge, where'd you hide the stuff?
I am, &c., R. M. Answer. The preceding is endorsed, in the handwriting of General Montgomery, on the back of Mr. Duane's letter. The laxity of the discipline which pervaded the camp at Cambridge, the inexperience of the officers, and the contests and petty squabbles about rank, all tended to excite great jealousy and discontent in the army. As yet, Burr was attached to no particular corps.
For she cared a great deal about Duane's friendship; and she was very unhappy, and morbid and more easily wounded than ever, because somehow it had come to her ears that rumour was busily hinting things unthinkable concerning her nothing definite; yet the very vagueness of it added to her distress and horror.
In Texas, where outdoor men were so rough, bronzed, bold, and sometimes grim of aspect, it was no easy task to pick out the crooked ones. But Duane's years on the border had augmented a natural instinct or gift to read character, or at least to sense the evil in men; and he knew at once that these strangers were dishonest. "Hey somethin'?" one of them asked, leering. Both looked Duane up and down.
That hour of Duane's life was like years of actual living, and in it he became a thoughtful man. He went into the house and buckled on his belt and gun. The gun was a Colt.45, six-shot, and heavy, with an ivory handle. He had packed it, on and off, for five years. Before that it had been used by his father. There were a number of notches filed in the bulge of the ivory handle.
His eyes narrowed and glittered. The muscles along his brown cheeks set hard and tense. He leaned closer to Duane, laid sinewy, pressing fingers upon Duane's knee. "Listen to this," he whispered, hoarsely.
The two men spent much time together. Duane made up a short fictitious history about himself that satisfied the outlaw, only it drew forth a laughing jest upon Duane's modesty. For Fletcher did not hide his belief that this new partner was a man of achievements. Knell and Poggin, and then Cheseldine himself, would be persuaded of this fact, so Fletcher boasted. He had influence. He would use it.
Jennie had been instructed by Euchre to listen, to understand that this was Duane's only chance to help keep her mind from constant worry, to gather the import of every word which had a double meaning. Euchre said that the girl had begun to wither under the strain, to burn up with intense hope which had flamed within her.
Presently it was broken by a rattling of loose gravel and then low voices. "He can't git across the river, I tell you," came to Duane's ears. "He's corralled in the brake. I know thet hole." Then Duane, gliding silently and swiftly through the willows, heard no more from his pursuers. He headed straight for the river. Threading a passage through a willow brake was an old task for him.
Who, then, would have dreamed that the accomplished Livingston should win his highest fame by preparing a state paper for this unlettered person's signature; that this rough backwoodsman should alone of all Americans surpass the polished Burr in the charm of his manners; that Duane's little son should one day be called by his father's unpromising acquaintance to a place such as even Jefferson's friendship never conferred upon Duane himself.
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