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Updated: June 9, 2025
There was one mourner only the man who had run to summon Van, and who later had waited by the door. At four o'clock the Goldite News appeared upon the streets. It contained much original matter or so at least it claimed. The account of the murder of Culver, the death of Queenie, and the threatened lynching of Van Buren made a highly sensational story.
"Keeps him on the move." He threw away his chewed cigar, placed a new one in his mouth, and started for the door. "Come on," he added, "I'll identify you over at the postoffice and show you where you sleep." Less than a week had passed since Bostwick's arrival in Goldite, but excitement was rife in the air.
He tore up the road and he tore away their breath, but he came into Goldite half an hour ahead of time, and claimed he had driven "pretty slow." Meantime, the night in the mining-camp had brought no untoward excitement.
Moreover, Glen wrote that he was off on a trip, and asked her to wait before replying. It was irritating, all this waiting, alone here in Goldite, but there seemed to be nothing else to do. The long morning passed, and she fretted. In the afternoon the Goldite News broke its record. It printed an extra a single sheet, in glaring type, announcing the capture of the convicts.
His car had been twice disabled on the desert; Lawrence had been difficult to find; delays had confronted him at every turn, and not until midnight of the day before this had he come with his quarry to Goldite barely in time to save the situation, with the reservation opening less than forty-eight hours away. He had not seen Glen, nor approached the town of Starlight closer than fifteen miles.
"What's the good of my finding you here in Goldite if you don't do nothing for your country?" Van shouldered the sack. "What are you doing here anyhow?" said he, " up before breakfast and busy as a hen scratching for one chicken." "Come on," she answered, starting briskly towards a new white building, off the main thoroughfare, eastward. "I live here start my boarding-house today.
Of this important factor in the welcome story of the posse's work Goldite was ignorant, and doomed to be in ignorance a week. The news to Beth was a source of great relief. But her troubles in other directions were fated to increase. That evening three men called formally formally, that is to say, in so far as dressing in their best was concerned and putting on their "company manners."
He came upon the place abruptly, after dipping once into a canyon, and looked with amazement on the place. In the past twelve hours it had doubled in size and increased twenty-fold in its fever. The face of the desert was literally alive with men and animals. Half of Goldite and practically all of a dozen lesser camps were there. Confusion, discomfort, and distraction seemed hopelessly enthroned.
Beth looked the two mounts over uncritically. They seemed to be equally matched, as to general characteristics, since neither appeared either strong or plump. She said: "Shall we ride very far?" "No, just a pleasant little jog," replied the horseman. "They call it forty miles to Goldite by the ridge, but it isn't an inch over thirty."
Never have had enough sardines in all my life." "I'd buy them for you now and sit you down," said Van, "only why start a graveyard with a friend?" Some woman who had come and gone from Goldite had disposed of a beautiful side saddle, exposed in the hay-yard to the weather. Van paid fifty dollars and became its owner. The outfit for Beth was soon complete.
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