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Updated: June 11, 2025
Yeager crawled on his hands and knees into a mesquite thicket from which he could command a view of the open space back of Pasquale's house. He broke carefully half a dozen twigs that interfered with the free play of his rifle. Then he placed his revolver beside him ready for action. After which he waited, tense and watchful. Mexicans were swarming about the back of the house.
As he walked to Pasquale's headquarters to make a report of the affair, Culvera's mind was full of vague suspicions. How had this man escaped? Had the old general freed him for some purpose of his own? Ramon had seen condemned prisoners released by his chief before. Always within a short time some enemy or doubtful friend of Pasquale had died a violent death. Was it his turn now?
The heart of Yeager sank. The thing he was being asked to do was plain murder. Even to save his own life he could not set his hand to such a contract. "I can't do that, general. But I'll pick a quarrel with him. I'll take a chance on even terms." "No no!" Pasquale's voice was harsh and imperative. "The dog is plotting my murder. But first he wants to make sure he is strong enough to succeed me.
Vampa, who has become, if he was not always so, old Pasquale's fast friend, decided against us whenever we carried our complaints to him. Finally we could stand it no longer; we were absolutely starving while Solara was heaping up riches, so we determined to quit the band. We did so and came to Paris, where we have been ever since."
"What can you do if you get into Pasquale's camp as one of his men?" "I don't know. Something will turn up." "You're taking a big chance, Steve." "Not because I want to. But I've got to do what I can for the boys. This ain't just the time for a 'watchful waiting' policy, seems to me. If you've got anything better to offer, I'm agreeable to listen."
This ain't no hundred-yard dash. Steve's burnin' the wind because he's got to haid off Harrison from Pasquale's camp. All we got to do is to drive him up to Steve." Phil cut out and roped a pony, then slapped on a saddle. Presently he and Jackson were following the others down the dust-filled road. The boy spoke his fears aloud, endeavoring to reassure himself. "Chad won't hurt Ruth any.
It was my idea that she would have been sociable, and I myself on various occasions saw her flit to and fro on domestic errands, so that I was sure she was accessible. But I tasted of no gossip from that fountain, and I afterward learned that Pasquale's affections were fixed upon an object that made him heedless of other women.
When he let himself think of Ruth as a prisoner at the mercy of that savage old outlaw's whim, the heart of Steve failed him. What could one man do against so many? He felt that she was perfectly safe for the present, but Yeager found it impossible to sleep in the stable. Taking his blankets with him, he slipped noiselessly out to the cottonwood clump back of Pasquale's headquarters.
"Then why did you bring her here?" Holcomb's question was like the thrust of a sword. "Because I was a fool." "Better give things their right names. You were a damned villain." A dull flush rose to the cheeks of the prizefighter. "All right. Let it go at that. I guess you're right. What I want to know now is whether you're going to stand for Pasquale's play.
That letter from Pasquale told me about his flight with Carlotta. I lied to you but I was in a state bordering on madness." I rested my elbow on the mantel-piece and looked down on her. She appeared so sweet and fragile, like a piece of Dresden china, incapable of base actions. As I did not speak she went on: "I did not mean to play into Pasquale's hands, Marcus.
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