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Updated: June 28, 2025
"He's yore old side kick, too, ain't he?" jeered Yankie. Goodheart, following the orders he had received, moved forward to the engine and climbed into the cab beside the engineer and fireman. The sheriff and his prisoner backed to the steps of the smoking-car. Billie had had a word with the brakeman, his young friend Bud Proctor, who had at once locked the door at the other end of the smoker.
Prince himself had been called back to Washington County to deal with a band of rustlers who had lately pulled off a series of bold, wholesale cattle thefts. He left Goodheart to bring the prisoner back with him in case of a conviction. The deputy sheriff left the train at Los Vegas, to which point Prince had sent a man with horses to meet Jack and the convicted murderer.
"Hello, Reb!" "Hello, Go-Get-'Em! Thought Goodheart was bringin' you back a prisoner." Quantrell's old guerrilla looked with unconcealed surprise at the bound man. He knew the story of Clanton's deep-rooted hatred of the Roush clan. "I didn't sign any bond to stay his prisoner," Jim answered dryly. Then, sharply, he turned upon Roush. "Spill out yore story about Yankie."
Unless he has left the country he'll show up one of these days." "That's what I think, Jack, an' I'm confident he hasn't gone. He has a reason for stayin' here." Goodheart could have put a name to the reason. It was a fair enough reason to have held either him or the sheriff under the same circumstances. "How about a reward?
"In a cave the other side of town. They're just beyond the big bend of the river. I'll take you there." "You've seen 'em." "No." Goodheart hesitated just a moment before he went on. "I was sent by the person who has seen 'em." "Listens to me like a plant," jeered Yankie. "Meanin' that I'm a liar?" asked Goodheart coldly. "I wasn't born yesterday. Come clean. Who is yore friend that saw the boys?"
In the thick brush it would be hard to handle noiselessly and the snapping of a twig might mean the difference between life and death. The sheriff slipped into the tangle of cat-claw, prickly pear, and mesquite, vanishing into the gloom from the sight of Goodheart. On the back of an envelope Dumont had drawn for him a rough map of the valley.
She flew to meet Jim, her eyes filled with a divine pity. Both hands went out to his manacled ones impulsively. Her face glowed with a soft, welcoming warmth. "You poor boy! You poor, poor boy!" she cried. Then, flaming, she turned on Goodheart: "Bel et bien! Why do you load him down with chains? Are you afraid of him?" The deputy flushed. "I have no right to take any chances of an escape.
Before morning your friends ought to arrive." "If they got yore message." "Oh, they got it. Jack Goodheart carried it." The riflemen across the river were silent for a time. When they began sniping again, it was from such an angle that they could aim at the cave without endangering those above. Both Clanton and Prince returned the fire. Presently Lee touched on the shoulder the man beside her.
A shot went wildly into the air as the rifle was jerked out of the hands of its owner, who came to the earth with sprawling arms. Goodheart ran forward swiftly, made a dozen expert passes with his fingers, and rose without a word. Yankie had been hog-tied by the champion roper of the Southwest. Lee Plays a Leading Rôle A man on horseback clattered up the street and drew up at the Snaith house.
"That's a fine present to hand a man," he answered grimly. "An' I didn't notice you bubble with enthusiasm when I spoke of givin' half the glory to Goodheart." "But I haven't a thing you'd care for. If I'd only known in time I'd have sent to Vegas and got you something nice." "You don't have to send to Vegas for it, Polly. The present I want is right here," he said simply.
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