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Updated: June 18, 2025
Kate nodded and pushed Peter's head aside almost roughly. "The man I can care for, the man I marry must have no thought of hurt for Charlie Bryant in his mind." "Then you " Kate made a movement of impatience. "Again, I mean just what I say no more, no less." But it was Fyles's turn to become impatient. "Bryant Charlie Bryant? It is always Charlie Bryant before all things!"
"I have told you that just to show you how your words have well nigh crazed me. I can be nothing to you. I can be nothing to anybody. It was I who brought about Charlie's death. He, the bravest, the loyalest man I ever knew, gave his life to save me from the police, who were hunting me down. Oh," she went on, at sight of Fyles's incredulous expression, "you don't need to take my word alone.
His thoughts seemed to disturb him painfully. Ever since he had heard of Inspector Fyles's coming to the village a sort of depression had settled like a cloud upon him a depression he could not shake off. Fyles was the last man he wished to see in Rocky Springs for several reasons.
Kate's eyes flashed again. "Sure. That's how he reckons." They looked into each other's eyes steadily. Charlie's were lit by a curious baffling irony. It was finally Charlie who spoke. "Fyles's plans are not likely to disconcert anybody. There is no fear of legitimate capture. It is treachery that is to be feared." Kate started. "Treachery?" The man nodded.
O'Brien, watching the change in him, suddenly saw his hands clench at his sides, and understood the sudden access of resentment which the mention of Fyles's name stirred in the man. He read into what he beheld something of the real character of the "sharp," as he understood it. Charlie's reply came at last. It came briefly and coldly, and O'Brien felt the sting of the rebuff.
Fyles's eyes roamed over the scene about him in the quick, uneasy fashion of a groping mind. "I don't know yet," he said slowly, "I've got to windward of that haying business. The fellow's haying all right. He's got a permit for cutting, and he generally puts up fifty tons. Maybe he keeps that wagon out there all the time for convenience. I can't say.
Again was that ironical challenge in Kate's eyes. Fyles's responsive smile was that of the fencer. "You are too well informed." But the woman shook her head. "Not so well informed as I could wish," she said. Then she laughed as her merry sister might have laughed, and the policeman wanted to join in it by reason of its very infection. "There's a whole heap of things I'd like to know.
I'm sousing all the liquor I can get my hooks on, an' it's all the sweeter because of you boys. Outside my duty to the railroad company I wouldn't raise a finger to stop a gallon of good rye comin' into town, no, not if the penitentiary was yearnin' to swallow me right up." Fyles's purposeful eyes surveyed the man with a thoughtful smile. "Just so," he said coolly.
Their confusion of the first moment passed instantly, and they rode straight at Tresler's line of defense with a determination that threatened to overwhelm it and force a passage. But the coming of the cowpunchers stemmed the tide and hurled them back on Fyles's force in their rear. Several riderless horses escaped in the mêlée; nor were they only belonging to the raiders.
We must depend chiefly on a surprise. We don't want too many empty saddles." At the bottom of the valley they found the rest of the men gathered together in the shelter of the scattered undergrowth. It was Fyles's whole command. He proceeded at once to divide them up into two parties. One he stationed east of the ranch, split into a sort of skirmishing order, to act under Tresler's charge.
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