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Updated: May 15, 2025


Joe cried menacingly. "Lem Lindsay, it air Heaven's work that's given you into my hands!" He went toward him slowly, menacingly, with his strong fingers working with desire to clutch his shrinking throat. "It air Heaven's will as you should meet your fall through Ben Lorey's son!" Holton, desperate, gathered courage for a last effort to escape from the net which he had woven to his own undoing.

And, suddenly, her own heart throbbed with worry. Had she not done wrong in bringing this unknown and, therefore, this mysterious stranger so close upon the heart of Lorey's secret? She had chosen the path thoughtlessly. She realized that, now, and much regretted it.

Her heart yearned toward him with a warmth and fervor which she had not known as possible to human longings, but no, no, for his sake she must give him up, as, for his sake, she had made the long, desperate journey from the mountains to save him from Joe Lorey's bullet, as, for his sake, shrinking and dismayed, conscious that in doing it she might very well be sacrificing his respect for her, she had donned the blouse and breeches of a jockey, yesterday, to ride his mare to victory when none other had been there to save the day for him.

But it was Joe Lorey's face which greeted her as she abruptly turned to see. His coon-skin cap, his jerkin and trousers of faded blue-jeans, his high, rusty boots matched perfectly with his primitive environments. As he appeared only the old-fashioned Winchester, which he carried cradled in his crooked elbow, spoke of the Nineteenth century.

"There is a chance, though," she said, with a fierce joy, "that Lem Lindsay, if he is alive, 'll git th' bullet that he earned that day. Joe Lorey's livin' that's Ben's son an' he well, maybe, some time ah, he can shoot as straight as anybody in these mountings!" The look of a young tigress was on her face.

It's Joe Lorey's work! Oh, oh " She sprang down the rough path toward the place where, ever since she could remember, the little bridge had swung. Now, though, it was gone. "The bridge!" she cried. "The bridge! It's gone! I can't cross! I've got to see him die!" Her frantic eyes caught sight of the frayed rope, dangling from the firm supports which had so long held up the bridge by means of it.

"It air round-about, but it'll lead you to th' valley. I'll run no risk o' your warnin' him." "Don't you be skeered," said Holton. "I'll keep mum, no matter what happens." With a grim smile he started down the path which the mountaineer had pointed out. "Laid his whip acrost my face!" he muttered as he went. "Trifled with my gal! Him an' Ben Lorey's son let 'em fight it out!

"I mean, no matter where he goes he'll have to pay for it, come soon, come late. Th' day air sure to come when Joe, Ben Lorey's son, 'll meet him face to face an' make him answer for his crime!" "God-speed to him!" exclaimed the Colonel, fervently.

He jerked a thumb toward Joe. Layson was wrathful at the man's intrusion; he had been impressed by what the fugitive had said. "No," he answered, hotly. "Joe Lorey's in my house, under my protection, and, by the eternal, you shan't lay a hand on him!" The Colonel smiled, delighted. "Kentucky blood!" he cried. "I'll back you to a finish!"

Gone!" he said. "Gone laughin' at me!" He clenched his fists. "And it is him as has come atween us!" He turned slowly from the place, picked up his rifle, slung the game-sack, saggin with the weight of the dynamite, across his shoulder by its strap, and started from the place. He had gone but a short distance, though, before he stopped, considering. Murder was in Joe Lorey's heart.

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