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Updated: June 6, 2025
It was a very little thing to bring in an armful of that wood, but long-riders do not love work, and now they started the matching seriously. The odd man was out, and Pierre went out on the first toss of the coins. "You see," said Gandil. "Bad luck to everyone but himself." At the next throw Jacqueline was the lucky one, and her father afterward.
"I've lived too long with the name of McGurk in my ears not to know the man. He'll never kill by stealth, but openly and man to man. I know him, damn him. He'll wait till he meets us alone, and then we'll finish as poor Gandil, there, or Patterson and Branch and Bud Mansie, all of them fallen somewhere in the mountains with the buzzards left to bury 'em.
Gandil rose and stretched himself leisurely, yet as he sauntered toward the door his backward glance at Pierre was black indeed. He glanced curiously toward Jack who looked away sharply and then turned his eyes to her father. The latter was considering him with a gloomy, foreboding stare and considering over and over again, as Pierre le Rouge well knew, the prophecy of Black Morgan Gandil.
"Gandil?" "N-no!" "You're lying. It was Gandil." And he made straight for the door. She ran after him and flung herself between him and the door. Clearly, as if it were a painted picture, she saw him facing Gandil saw their hands leap for the guns saw Gandil pitch face forward on the floor writhe all his limbs and then lie still. "Pierre for God's sake!"
Garry Patterson sat with his eyes blinked shut, pale, waiting for death to come. Dick Wilbur rose, tall and stiff, and stood with his hands gripped at his sides, and Black Morgan Gandil clutched at the table before him and his eyes wandered swiftly about the room, seeking a place for escape. There was only one sound, and that was a whispering moan of terror from Jacqueline.
But he would have to let me go some time." "Not till you'd promised to stick by him. I told him that myself, but he said that you're young and that he'd teach you to like this life whether you wanted to or not. Me speaking personally, I agree with Black Gandil: This is the worst fool thing that dad has ever done. What do we want with you in Hal's place!"
That's how we'll finish with McGurk on our trail. And you Gandil was right it's you that's brought him on us. A shipwrecked man by God, Gandil was right!" His right hand froze on the butt of his gun and his face convulsed with impotent rage, for he knew, as both the others knew, that long before that gun was clear of the holster the bullet from Pierre's gun would be on its way.
Phil Branch had not spoken, as usual, but now he repeated, with rapt, far-off eyes: "'Hurley was hurt in the wrist and Diaz died? Hurley and Diaz! I played with Hurley, a couple of times." "Speakin' personal," said Garry Patterson, his red verging toward purple in excitement, "which I'm ready to go with you down to Morgantown and bury your father." "And do it shipshape," added Black Gandil.
Her terror convinced him partially, and the furor went back from his eyes as a light goes back in a long, dark hall. "On your honor, Jack, it's not Gandil?" "On my honor." "But some one has broken you up." "No, I " "Don't lie. Why, even while you look at me your color changes. You're pale one minute and red the next. Some one has crossed you, Jack. And whoever crosses you crosses me, by God!
For all this he seemed the least formidable of all the riders. To see him pass none could have suspected that this was Black Morgan Gandil. Last of the crew came two men almost as large as Jim Boone himself, on strong steady-striding horses.
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