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And in each some one particular friend had a piece of news to impart that made Duane profoundly thoughtful. A ranger had made a quiet, unobtrusive call upon these friends and left this message, "Tell Buck Duane to ride into Captain MacNelly's camp some time after night."
In Duane's state of mind clear reasoning, common sense, or keenness were out of the question. He went because he felt he was compelled. Dusk had fallen when he rode into a town which inquiry discovered to be Fairfield. Captain MacNelly's camp was stationed just out of the village limits on the other side. No one except the boy Duane questioned appeared to notice his arrival.
Twice Duane endeavored to speak, failed of all save a hoarse, incoherent sound, until, forcing back a flood of speech, he found a voice. "Any service? Every service! MacNelly, I give my word," said Duane. A light played over MacNelly's face, warming out all the grim darkness. He held out his hand. Duane met it with his in a clasp that men unconsciously give in moments of stress.
MacNelly's a fine man, Duane. Belongs to a good Southern family. I'd hate to have him look you up." Duane did not speak. "MacNelly's got nerve, and his rangers are all experienced men. If they find out you're here they'll come after you. MacNelly's no gun-fighter, but he wouldn't hesitate to do his duty, even if he faced sure death. Which he would in this case.
The last thing he said was: 'If you ever see Duane don't kill him. Send him into my camp after dark! He meant something strange. What I can't say. But he was right, and I was wrong. If Lucy had batted an eye I'd have killed you. Still, I wouldn't advise you to hunt up MacNelly's camp. He's clever. Maybe he believes there's no treachery in his new ideas of ranger tactics.
When you get the bank people wise, send your men over one by one. No hurry, no excitement, no unusual thing to attract notice in the bank." "All right. That's great. Tell me, where do you intend to wait?" Duane heard MacNelly's question, and it struck him peculiarly. He had seemed to be planning and speaking mechanically.
And something new, strange, confounding with its emotion, came to life deep in Duane's heart. There would be children! Ray their mother! The kind of life a lonely outcast always yearned for and never had! He saw it all, felt it all. But beyond and above all other claims came Captain MacNelly's. It was then there was something cold and death-like in Duane's soul.
MacNelly, you CAN'T be in earnest!" "Never more so in my life. I've a deep game. I'm playing it square. What do you say?" He rose to his feet. Duane, as if impelled, rose with him. Ranger and outlaw then locked eyes that searched each other's souls. In MacNelly's Duane read truth, strong, fiery purpose, hope, even gladness, and a fugitive mounting assurance of victory.
He felt terrible forces at work within him. There was the stern and indomitable resolve to make MacNelly's boast good to the governor of the state to break up Cheseldine's gang. Yet this was not in Duane's mind before a strange grim and deadly instinct which he had to drive away for fear he would find in it a passion to kill Poggin, not for the state, nor for his word to MacNelly, but for himself.
I'm Burt. What can I do for you?" replied Jones. The stranger peered around, stealthily came closer, still with his hands up. "It is known that Buck Duane is here. Captain MacNelly's camping on the river just out of town. He sends word to Duane to come out there after dark." The stranger wheeled and departed as swiftly and strangely as he had come. "Bust me!
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