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Updated: June 25, 2025


Red Perris, too, shouting like a mad man as he spurred in, realized that his opportunity was slipping through his fingers. For now, though far away, he swung his rope in a stiffly horizontal circle about his head. The time had come. Straight before him shot the red streak of the stallion; and leaning in his saddle to give greater length to the cast he made the throw. It failed.

That had been Cordova's way to come to a place where he could not be seen and then strike cruelly and by surprise. To his unspeakable astonishment, Perris presently leaned over him and then deliberately sat down on the shoulder of the chestnut.

Bang! goes the gat again and Mister Squirrel's tail is chopped plumb in two and then he ducks down his hole by the side of the trail and we hear him squealing and chattering cusswords at us. "I never see such shooting in my life. But Perris puts up his gun and gets red as a girl when two gents ask her for the same dance. "'I'm plumb out of practice, he says.

Someone who knows cattle and can tell me what to do now and then. Mr. Perris, do you know the cow business?" Some of his interest faded. "Most folks raised in these parts do," he answered obliquely. "I should think you could get a dozen anywhere." She explained eagerly: "It's not so simple. You see, Lew Hervey is rather a rough character. In the old days I think he was quite a fighter.

Two thoughts flashed through the mind of the stallion; he might heave himself over by a convulsive effort and attempt to crush this insolent devil; or he might jerk his head around and catch Perris with his teeth. A third and better thought, however, immediately followed that bound as he was he would have little chance to reach this elusive will-o'-the-wisp.

Again he leaped high and again struck stiffly on the opposite foreleg; but alas! that very upward bound swung Perris to the erect, and with incredible and catlike speed he slipped into the saddle. He received the shock with both feet lodged again in the supporting stirrups. The frenzy of disappointment gave Alcatraz renewed energy.

And Jim Perris was glad of the diversions. For the only thing which he disliked in her, the only thing which repelled him time and again, was this eagerness of hers to have the chestnut stallion killed. She spoke of Alcatraz with a consuming hatred. And Perris was a little horrified.

He had a wholesome respect for the mental powers of Oliver Jordan's daughter and he by no means wished to drive her frantic in the effort to get to Perris with her warning. Of course it would be impossible for her to wheedle McGuire and Hastings into letting her have a horse, but if she should Here Hervey abruptly turned his thoughts in a new direction. The old one led to results too unpleasant.

The prophetic thickening of his coat foretold a hard winter. Now he was on watch with the mares in the hollow behind and himself on the crest rarely turning his head from a wisp of smoke which rose far south. He knew what that meant. Red Perris was on his trail again, and this was the morning-fire of the Great Enemy. He had lain on the ground like a dead man the day before.

'Is it as bad as all that? he says. 'See that other five and raise you twenty. 'You're too strong for me Red, says the gent that was bucking him and lays down to that pair of deuces! I read the letter: "'Dear Mr. Perris, "'I know you don't like to hire out. But this is a job where you won't have a boss.

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