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Updated: June 7, 2025
He played the part of an ex-cowboy, who, in the bar-room scene, shot his way out of danger through a circle of gang-men, and he was now seeking from Banneker ostensibly pointers, actually praise. "Say, old man," he began without introduction. "Gimme a tip or two. How do you get your hand over for your gun without giving yourself away?" "Just dive for it, as you do in the play.
The girl jerked Molly's head around and they dropped back behind the wagon which kept on lumberingly, with Mack still asleep on the seat. From the south from the direction of the distant river a rider came galloping up the trail. "Why!" murmured Frances. "It's Ratty M'Gill!" The ex-cowboy of the Bar-T swung around upon the trail, as though headed east, and grinned at the ranchman's daughter.
At a conference of the chief men of the town it was resolved to try to induce Crux to quit quietly, and for this end to offer to buy up his stock-in-trade. Hunky Ben, being an old acquaintance, was requested to go to the store as a deputation. But the ex-cowboy was inexorable. Neither the offer of money nor argument had any effect on him.
"But if Dave answers the signal, I'll have to ask for father, because Dave doesn't understand the code." It was Dave Morningstar who answered, the other ex-cowboy employed as mechanic and guard at Mr. Hampton's radio plant in New Mexico.
After leaning against a pillar some minutes, during which his active brain kept milling endlessly over the details of the past few days, he had an impulse to go over to the radiophone station and talk to the guard, an ex-cowboy, on duty there since the attack by three Mexicans at the time this story opened.
All heard it distinctly. Jack peered into the darkness and called firmly: "Who are you?" "Challenge him in Spanish, why don't you?" muttered Frank. Before Jack could repeat his challenge, however, a familiar voice replied: "That you, Jack? This is Tom." "Tom? Tom Bodine?" "The same," replied the ex-cowboy, materializing out of the darkness, and approaching.
Dave Morningstar, hat pulled down over his eyes, sat in a chair tilted back against the wall, watching him from beneath the brim. The only signs of life about the ex-cowboy turned mechanic were the occasional movements of the eyes, and the occasional refilling of his pipe, from which lazy streamers of smoke now and again floated upward. All the evening these two had held watch.
I think I'll not let Rollins know that I suspect him, but will talk this over first with my friends. And if he comes here to radio again listen to him, and report to me what he says." "All right," said the big ex-cowboy. Then as a new idea occurred to him, he asked: "But how about tellin' my side pard, Dave? He's on duty days. He oughta know, too."
He would not let himself consider that possibility. In desperation he turned to Dave Morningstar. "Isn't there something we can do?" he asked imploringly. The old ex-cowboy took his pipe from his mouth, spat deliberately to one side, then brought the forelegs of his chair to the floor. "Le's see," he said. "I been a'most asleep. Le's see. What say to calling the cave?" Mr.
I knew that this information would bring no balm of Gilead to Sam's soul, so I refrained from including it in the news of the city that I retailed on my return. But on the next afternoon an elongated ex-cowboy of the name of Simmons, an old-time pal of Sam's, who kept a feed store in Kingfisher, rode out to the ranch and rolled and burned many cigarettes before he would talk.
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