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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Jeff Hank Steve! Let him know you're alive." Three guns cracked and kicked up the dust close to the sheriff. "What do you want with us?" Flatray asked, sparring for time. "Drop your gun. If you don't we'll riddle you both." West spoke to Jack promptly. "Do as he says. It's MacQueen." Flatray hesitated. He could kill MacQueen probably, but almost certainly he and West would pay the penalty.
"What do I care about that?" she cried, in a fierce gust of passion. "I see you are cur and coward! You lied to me. You didn't keep faith and free Jack Flatray. That is enough." She was the one person in the world who had power to wound him. Nor did it hurt the less that it was the truth. He drew back as if the lash of a whip had swept across his face.
"Who did that?" she asked of Alan McKinstra, who was sitting on the steps, reading a newspaper and munching an apple. "Jack Flatray took it down. He said the offer of a reward had been withdrawn." "When did he do that?" "About an hour ago. Just before he rode off." "Rode off! Where did he go?" "Heard him say he was going to Mesa. He told your father that when he settled the bill."
She clapped her hands. "Oh, let's! I'm tired of boys, anyhow. They know nothing but nonsense." She made a laughing moue at Flatray, and turned to join the railroad builder. The young sheriff arose and trailed to his pony. "My marching orders, I reckon." They walked up the hill together, the great man and the untutored girl.
We'll drop off the train quietly when it slows up to water, so that none of his spies can get word of our movements to him. By hard riding we'd ought to reach Powderhorn in time to head him off." The ranger asked incisive questions, had the topography of the country explained to him with much detail, and decided at last that Flatray was right.
She was looking at Norris with a new expression, a kind of breathless fear. She knew him for a man who could not be swerved from the thing he wanted. For all his easy cynicism, he had the reputation of being a bloodhound on the trail. Moreover, she knew that he was no friend to Jack Flatray. Why had she left that running iron as evidence to convict its owner?
"But, if you wounded him last night, how could he be trailing you to-day?" "I reckon it was a flesh wound. His shoulder was tied up, I noticed." Impatiently he waved Flatray out of the conversation. "I didn't come here to tell you about him. I got to get out on tonight's train. This country has grown too hot for me. You're going with me?" "No!" "Yes, by God!"
And out of his troubled heart he had answered, "Beats me, 'Lissie." "They've sent for the officers. Jack Flatray is on the way himself. So is Sheriff Burke," volunteered Alan gloomily. "Getting right busy, ain't they?" Norris sneered. Again Lee glanced quickly at Norris. "I reckon, Phil, we better drive that bunch of sheep down to water right away. I clean forgot them this mo'ning." "Sure."
The excitement of his news had for a moment thawed her, but a dignified aloofness showed again in her manner. "If you want to see father you'll find him in the corral, Mr. Flatray." "Well, I don't know as I'm looking for him awful hard," the blue kerchiefed youth smiled genially. "Anyway, I can wait a few minutes if I have to." "Yes." She turned away indifferently. "I'll show you your room, Mr.
Though both were keyed to the highest pitch of excitement they were as steady as eight-day clocks. O'Connor stretched his limbs, flexing them this way and that, so that he might have perfect control of them. He worked especially over the forearm and fingers of his right arm. Flatray handed him a revolver. "Whenever you're ready, Lieutenant." "All right. It's the cabin next to this."
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