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Updated: June 27, 2025
So Billy sighed in the darkness and sat easily on Drumfire, his slim left hand fidgeting with the swinging rein. And Tharon was lost, too, in a maze of thoughts. She sat straight as a lance, tense, alive, keen, staring into the narrow bore of the high ceiled cut, thinking feverishly. Was Kenset really alive? Had Courtrey been square with her?
Kenset frowned and looked down along the green range. He thought of the unpainted pine building in Corvan which was the Court House. A strange personnel, truly, to invest it with authortity! "I see," he said briefly, "but there must be some way out. This is not the right way, the way that must come and last." Tharon's lips drew into the thin line that made them like her father's.
Instead the glittering eyes under the hat-brim looked steadily into his with an expression that only one man in a hundred could have interpreted. That one man, however, stood by the watering trough, his hand on the neck of a drinking horse Cleve Whitmore who watched Courtrey without blinking. For a moment Kenset stood so, his hand extended, waiting.
These hands o' yours, damn 'em, they do make me weak! Don't put 'em on me again!" And with a sudden, sharp savagery she struck his hands off his breast, whirled away in the darkness and was gone. Kenset, two days later, gave Sam Drake a check for five hundred dollars and a letter, unpostmarked but sealed with tape and wax.
Kenset caught it, and a thrill shot through him. "Granted," he said quickly. "But is there only one type of man?" "For me," said Tharon, "yes." "I'm sorry," said he, and for the life of him he did not know why. "So'm I," said Tharon honestly. They looked at each other for a pregnant moment, while a silence fell on the cabin and they could hear the singing water running down the slopes.
Kenset left for us here at Baston's yes." "Then," said Burn-Harris, "a little time and your man's ours as sure's the sun shines. Why, this is a hot-bed of crime there's enough work here to keep a whole force busy for months." But Tharon Last did not heed his words. Her mind had leaped away from the present back to that day in spring when Jim Last came home to die.
One of 'em's got on a badge of some sort," said Jameson, "didn't mean t' show it, I allow, but Hill, here, seen it by chanct " Kenset raised himself quickly on an elbow. "By all that's lucky!" he said softly, excitedly. "Burn-Harris and O'Hallan! My Secret Service men!"
Whole benches of earth with their trees upon them slipped down these sides from time to time, making of the Coulee a mysterious labyrinth of thickets and shelves, of winding ways and secret places. Kenset had heard a few wild stories about Black Coulee. Sam Drake had talked a bit more than most men of Lost Valley would have talked, and he had listened idly.
It was not long after Tharon's visit to the cabin in the glade, that Kenset, riding alone along the twilight land, passed close to the mouth of Black Coulee one day at dusk. He rode loosely, slouching sidewise in his saddle, for he had been to Corvan for his monthly mail and a few supplies tied in a bag behind his saddle, and he carried his broad hat in his hand.
In two hours Kenset was on his way to the blind mouth of the pass that led into the Cañon Country, Tharon was shooting back to the Holding on El Rey to put things on a watching basis there, while Conford and Billy went south and west to rouse the Vigilantes. With Kenset rode Banner, weak and not quite steady in his saddle, but a fighting man notwithstanding.
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