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Updated: May 9, 2025
The Lazette Eagle please notice. William Dunn, the proprietor of the Alhambra eating house, announces that in the near future he will erect a new sign. Thereafter the Alhambra will be known as the Alhambra Restaurant. This is a step forward. We have been informed that there is no restaurant in Lazette. Good boy, Dunn. Chet Miller's general merchandise store is to be repainted throughout.
You go back to Lazette," he said to Bernse, "an' tell the man who owns the horse that Calumet Marston will be glad to pay for it he's that damned glad he's got rid of the idol." Followed by Bernse, Calumet and Toban returned to the ranchhouse. When they neared it they were met by Dade and Malcolm, bearing between them the body of Neal Taggart.
Even if he had not witnessed the killing of Texas Blanca that day in Lazette he would have known the man before him for what he was a quiet, cool, self-possessed man of much experience, who could not be trifled with. "That's right," he admitted; "I am the new owner of the Double R. And I have come, my friend, to thank you for what you did for my daughter." "She told you, then?"
"That's right," he said, looking at her oddly; "he couldn't come. You see, he's sort of taken a shine to a biscuit shooter in Crogan's, over in Lazette, an' he couldn't very well break away." "A biscuit shooter!" she said, uncomprehendingly. "Sure. I reckon that back East you'd call her a waitress, or somethin'. I ain't admirin' his taste none. She ain't nowheres near as good-lookin' as you."
The engineer waved a yellow paper at Sanderson and shouted: "I just got this. I made a hit with the Okar agent last week, and he sent a man over with it. That's a damned scoundrelly bunch that's working against you! Do you know what they've done?" Sanderson said nothing, and the engineer resumed, explosively: "They've tied up your money at the Lazette bank!
"I don't reckon I'll grub," he said. "Then of course you have been to Lazette," she returned. "You had dinner there." "Look here," he said truculently; "does it make any difference to you where I've been or what I've done?" "Perhaps it really doesn't make any difference," she answered calmly; "but of course I am interested. I don't want you to starve." His face expressed disgust.
"After waitin' this long, too! But I reckon you're right; it wouldn't be no use waitin'. I'll go too, I reckon. We'll ride to the Flyin' W together." "I don't want to force my company on you, Randerson," laughed Masten nervously. "Besides, I had thought of taking the river trail back toward Lazette, you know." Randerson looked at him with a cold smile.
The latter's anxiety to relieve her of the task of riding to Lazette for the doctor had been spurious; he had merely wanted to be the first to carry the news of Doubler's death to Langford, and after leaving her he had undoubtedly taken a roundabout trail for the Double R. Possibly by this time he had settled with Langford and was on his way out of the country.
He sat on one of the top rails of the corral fence, alternately watching the men of the outfit as they faded into the vast space toward Lazette, and Mary Bransford and Sanderson, as they stood on the porch, close together, likewise watching the men. "I'd say if anyone was to ask me that there is a brother who seems to have been forgotten," said Owen with a curious smile.
"On Monday, then," he said softly to Ruth, as ready to leave, he had looked down at her from his horse. "I shall come early, remember, for I have waited long." "Yes, Monday," she had answered. And then, dully: "I have waited, too." Masten was thinking of this exchange of words as he rode past the ford where the Lazette trail crossed into the broken country beyond it.
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