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He just had vague, dreamy thoughts and imaginations that were interspersed in the constant and stern revolving of plans to save her. A shuffling step roused him. Euchre's dark figure came crossing the moonlit grass under the cottonwoods. The moment the outlaw reached him Duane saw that he was laboring under great excitement. It scarcely affected Duane.
An' thet lightnin' draw can't you-all see thet's a family gift?" Euchre's narrow eyes twinkled, and he gave the dough he was rolling a slap with his flour-whitened hand. Manifestly he had proclaimed himself a champion and partner of Duane's, with all the pride an old man could feel in a young one whom he admired. "Wal," he resumed, presently, "thet's your introduction to the border, Buck.
An' with apologies to present company, I'm here to say Duane has them all skinned. His draw is different. You can't see how he does it." Euchre's admiring praise served to create an effective little silence. Alloway shifted uneasily on his feet, his spurs jangling faintly, and did not lift his head. Bland seemed thoughtful.
What had he in common with such ruffians? Then in a flash of memory came the painful proof he was a criminal in sight of Texas law; he, too, was an outcast. For the moment Duane was wrapped up in painful reflections; but Euchre's heavy hand, clapping with a warning hold on his arm, brought him back to outside things. The hum of voices, the clink of coin, the loud laughter had ceased.
Presently the narrow, moonlit lane was crossed at its far end by black moving objects. Two horses Duane discerned. "It's Bland!" whispered the woman, grasping Duane with shaking hands. "You must run! No, he'd see you. That 'd be worse. It's Bland! I know his horse's trot." "But you said he wouldn't mind my calling here," protested Duane. "Euchre's with me. It'll be all right."
Euchre lay flat on his back, dead, a bullet-hole in his shirt, his face set hard, and his hands twisted round gun and bridle. "Jennie, you've nerve, all right!" cried Duane, as he dragged down the horse she was holding. "Up with you now! There! Never mind long stirrups! Hang on somehow!" He caught his bridle out of Euchre's clutching grip and leaped astride.
I had a baby girl once, an' if she'd lived she be as big as Jennie now, an', by Gawd, I wouldn't want her here in Bland's camp." "I'll go, Euchre. Take me over," replied Duane. He felt Euchre's eyes upon him. The old outlaw, however, had no more to say. In the afternoon Euchre set off with Duane, and soon they reached Bland's cabin.
Later he went outdoors to the cooler shade of the cottonwoods. From this point he could see a good deal of the valley. Under different circumstances Duane felt that he would have enjoyed such a beautiful spot. Euchre's shack sat against the first rise of the slope of the wall, and Duane, by climbing a few rods, got a view of the whole valley. Assuredly it was an outlaw settle meet.
He saw Jennie holding to the bridle of his bay horse. Euchre was astride the other, and he had a Colt leveled, and he was firing down the lane. Then came a single shot, heavier, and Euchre's ceased. He fell from the horse. A swift glance back showed to Duane a man coming down the lane. Chess Alloway! His gun was smoking. He broke into a run.
"'Go to bed, you white-faced Bland choked on some word or other a bad one, I reckon an' he positively shook in his chair. "Jennie went then, an' Kate began to have hysterics. An' your Uncle Euchre ducked his nut out of the door an' come home." Duane did not have a word to say at the end of Euchre's long harangue. He experienced relief. As a matter of fact, he had expected a good deal worse.
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