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Updated: June 6, 2025


The first to break the long silence was Jim Boone, with "Who brings in the wood?" And Black Gandil answered: "We'll match, eh?" In an outburst of energy the day before he disappeared Garry Patterson had chopped up some wood and left a pile of it at the corner of the house.

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.

But big Dick Wilbur was already leading up the horse of Hal Boone, and into the saddle Jim Boone swung the inert body of Pierre. The argument was settled, for every man of them knew that nothing could turn Boone back from a thing once begun. Yet there were muttered comments that drew Black Morgan Gandil and Bud Mansie together.

But Pierre, like a charmed man who dares to walk among lions, strolled easily through the room, and looked into the face of big Boone, who smiled faintly up to him, and Black Gandil, who scowled doubly dark, and Bud Mansie, who shifted uneasily in his chair and then nodded, and finally to Branch. He dropped a hand on the massive shoulder of the blacksmith. "Well?" he asked.

Black Morgan Gandil reined his horse close by, leaned to peer down, and the shadow of his hat fell across the face of Pierre. "There's no good comes of savin' shipwrecked men. Leave him where you found him, Jim. That's my advice. Sidestep a redheaded man. That's what I say."

"Here's the first: I want to bury a man in Morgantown and I need help to do it." Black Gandil snarled: "You heard me, boys; blood to start with. Who's the man you want us to put out?" "He's dead my father." They came up straight in their chairs like trained actors rising to a stage crisis. The snarl straightened on the lips of Black Morgan Gandil.

McGurk was back. McGurk was prowling about the last of the gang of Boone, and the lone wolf had pulled down four of the band one by one on successive days. Only two remained, and these two looked at one another with a common thought. "The lights!" cried Jacqueline, turning from the body of Gandil. "He can shoot us down through the windows at his leisure." "But he won't," said her father.

They would take the trail, and Jim Boone, no longer agile enough to be effective on the trail, would guard the house and the body of Gandil in it. There was little danger that even McGurk would try to rush a hostile house, but they took no chances.

He's gone; he ain't just delayed; he's gone." It was not the first of these gloomy prophecies which Gandil had made, but each time a heavy gloom broke over Red Pierre.

But before I came out I got mixed up with a man called Hurley, a professional gambler." "And Diaz?" queried a chorus. "Yes. Hurley was hurt in the wrist and Diaz died. I think I'm wanted in Morgantown." Out of a little silence came the voice of Black Gandil: "Dick, I'm thankin' you now for cuttin' me so short a minute ago."

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