Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
Dark, silent, grim as he had been, still there was a transformation singularly more sinister, stranger. "Enough. I'm done," he said, somberly. "I've planned. Do we agree or shall I meet Poggin and his gang alone?" MacNelly cursed and again threw up his hands, this time in baffled chagrin. There was deep regret in his dark eyes as they rested upon Duane. Duane was left alone.
"Glad for you mother's sakel But, all the same, in spite of this, you are a Texas outlaw accountable to the state. You're perfectly aware that under existing circumstances, if you fell into the hands of the law, you'd probably hang, at least go to jail for a long term." "That's what kept me on the dodge all these years," replied Duane. "Certainly." MacNelly removed his cigar.
"Captain, you want this job to be sure?" he asked. "Certainly." "I've told you the way. I alone know the kind of men to be met. Just WHAT I'll do or WHERE I'll be I can't say yet. In meetings like this the moment decides. But I'll be there!" MacNelly spread wide his hands, looked helplessly at his curious and sympathetic rangers, and shook his head.
Duane smiled a little a smile that felt strange on his face. He had never been much of a talker. And speech here seemed more than ordinarily difficult. MacNelly must have felt that. He looked long and earnestly at Duane, and his quick, nervous manner changed to grave thoughtfulness. "I've lots to say, but where to begin," he mused. "Duane, you've had a hard life since you went on the dodge.
"I believe you're not so black as you've been painted. I wish there was time to say more. Tell me this, anyway. Do you know the Ranger Captain MacNelly?" "I do not," replied Duane, in surprise. "I met him only a week ago over in Fairfield," went on Aiken, hurriedly. "He declared you never killed my wife. I didn't believe him argued with him. We almost had hard words over it. Now I'm sorry.
Lord, I'm glad to see you," was the Captain's greeting. Then at closer look into Duane's face his warmth fled something he saw there checked his enthusiasm, or at least its utterance. "MacNelly, shake hand with Cheseldine," said Duane, low-voiced. The ranger captain stood dumb, motionless. But he saw Longstreth's instant action, and awkwardly he reached for the outstretched hand.
That fateful morning found Duane outwardly calm, but inwardly he was in a tumult. He wanted to rush to Val Verde. Would Captain MacNelly be there with his rangers, as Duane had planned for them to be? Memory of that tawny Poggin returned with strange passion. Duane had borne hours and weeks and months of waiting, had endured the long hours of the outlaw, but now he had no patience.
The station was a good deal larger than that at Bradford, and there was considerable action and bustle incident to the arrival of the train. Duane's sweeping gaze searched faces, rested upon a man who seemed familiar. This fellow's look, too, was that of one who knew Duane, but was waiting for a sign, a cue. Then Duane recognized him MacNelly, clean-shaven.
"I'll start at once," he said, extending his hand to the Captain. "I wish I'd like to thank you." "Hell, man! Don't thank me!" replied MacNelly, crushing the proffered hand. "I've sent a lot of good men to their deaths, and maybe you're another. But, as I've said, you've one chance in a thousand. And, by Heaven! I'd hate to be Cheseldine or any other man you were trailing.
"That way my hands are clean," replied Duane. "You never held up a man, robbed a store for grub, stole a horse when you needed him bad never anything like that?" "Somehow I always kept out of that, just when pressed the hardest." "Duane, I'm damn glad!" MacNelly exclaimed, gripping Duane's hand.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking