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Updated: June 4, 2025
There it was. To the east. They were coming on over the southern trail, and that was in McBain's section! He lifted his reins, and Peter promptly laid his swift heels to the ground. Three shots. Fyles hoped the fourth would not be fired until he was within striking distance of the spot. Four horsemen were converging upon the bluff whence the shots had proceeded.
Charlie's eyes were still glittering. "Not quite. I'll ask you to get out of my ranch. And remember this, you've seen me at this shack, and you've seen that cupboard. If you'd been anybody but my brother I'd have shot you down in your tracks. Fyles anybody.
The anxiety deepened in Helen's eyes as the man denounced the two men who were her sister's hired help. She knew that all he said of them was true. She had known it for months. Now she was thinking of Charlie Bryant and Kate. If Fyles ever got hold of Charlie it would break poor Kate's heart. "You think they'd give any one away?" The man shook his head. "I don't think. Guess I know."
Our first attention will be that boat." Kate's eyes were alight with the warmest interest. She became further excited. "It's smart," she cried enthusiastically. "They're they're a clever set of rascals." Then, for a moment, she thought. "Of course, you must get that boat. What a sell for them when you let the wagon go free. Say, it's it's the greatest fun ever." Fyles smilingly agreed.
The significance of the man's thoughtful words and tone had come home to her. She knew he was not thinking of anything else she had said. Only of her regard for that other man. She abruptly held out her hand and Stanley Fyles took it. Her good-bye came with a curtness that might well have inspired consternation.
A great excitement was thrilling her, and she liked this man all the better for his blunt readiness for combat, even with her. Fyles was wondering at this woman, half angry, half pleased. Her strength and readiness appealed to him as a wonderful display. He was the first to speak, and, in doing so, he felt he was acknowledging his worsting in the encounter.
Was this another of the police force? The force to which Fyles belonged? He stood waiting at the head of the trail. And the look in his eyes augured ill for the welcome of the newcomer. The sounds grew louder. Then he heard a voice, a somewhat familiar voice. It was big, and cheerful, and full of a cordial good humor.
Then, in a desperate appeal, "Kate, I'd fire your two boys, Nick and Pete. They're mixed up in whisky-running, I know. When Stanley Fyles gets around they'll be corralled, sure, and I'd hate him to think we employed such men. Don't you think that, Charlie?" she demanded, turning sharply and looking into the man's serious face.
But Fyles only laughed. There was no mirth in his expression, and McBain understood. "Never mind," the officer went on, with a careless shrug. "Best turn in. We'll know all about it when the time comes." He rose from his seat, and McBain, with a brief "Good night, sir," disappeared into the inner room. But Fyles did not follow his example for a few moments. He went to the door and flung it open.
"Oh, look! It's Bill my Bill! Here he comes. Oh, thank God." Stanley Fyles flung a glance over his shoulder. Then without a word he lifted Peter's reins. Then he seemed to glide off in the direction of the setting sun. As he went he drew a long sigh.
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