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Updated: June 18, 2025
Hastily picking up a carbine as he passed the door, Feeny ran nimbly out across the sandy barren, disappearing in the darkness to the southeast. Old Plummer's heart beat like a hammer as he listened for the hail. A moment more he could hear hoof-beats and the voices of men in low tones; then, low-toned too, but sharp and stern, Feeny's challenge rose upon the night: "Who comes there?"
Ride ahead and see if you can't rout somebody out." And then Feeny's challenge again rang out on the still night air, followed instantly by muffled sound of stir and excitement in the ranch behind them. "Who comes there?" "Hello! What's that? Who's that? Is that Moreno?" "Who comes there, I say? Halt! or I'll fire." "For God's sake don't fire, man; we've got ladies here." "What ladies?
His father could pay it four times over, and would rather sink his last cent than that the faintest harm should come to those beloved children; but the next moment Feeny's splendid defiance had so thrilled him that he could not frame the words he thought to speak, and yet, here was awful peril close at hand.
Down went Feeny's carbine as, with outstretched hand, he sprang to grasp his comrade trooper's.
And then, as though the whole thing had been planned beforehand, out in the darkness to the north Feeny's voice was heard in low-toned but sharp command, "Patrol, halt! Close up there, Kennedy. Where are you, Number Five?" And so, cool and confident as though he had a dozen troopers at his back, Feeny came striding up to the spot. "What's the matter, sentry?
The stain was coming off she had been fond of the parrot and now it was close at hand; and Father Feeny's lusty crowd stood ready to come into a hospital ward and shed skin that they generally sacrificed on the football field. But the Avenue Girl had two years to account for and there was the matter of an alibi.
Come in here, or I'll send a bullet for your cards. Quick now." Still another delay. The "prospectors" seemed anxious to edge off into deeper darkness. "If ye're not off that horse's back in ten seconds, be jabers, I'll fire, so be lively." And as his excitement rose so did Feeny's Irish. Four five seconds ticked by and still there was no approach.
Even brain-muddled Mullan felt a maudlin impulse to cheer at Feeny's enthusiastic answer. Even poor old Plummer gave a half-stifled cry. Possibly he dreamed that rescue was at hand; but there was little time for rejoicing. Springing back whence he came, the unseen emissary was heard shouting some order to his fellows.
And, as was the case whenever excited, Feeny's grammar ran to seed. "Not a bit of it. My sisters are here, safe and sound. We'd have been here an hour ago but for slipping a tire. Is father here?"
One thing, he said, amazed and excited him so he couldn't believe his eyes, but he was almost ready to swear that the fellow Feeny ran to shake hands with was a soldier in uniform, and that he held Feeny's hand while another man came up behind and "mashed" him with the butt of his pistol, and that this fellow in soldier clothes was the man who afterwards shot Feeny as he was trying to crawl away.
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