Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 10, 2025
And he's a scoundrel, if you want to know! But frame up a murder deal plan to murder Luke Sanford No. I don't believe it!" "Is he the man to miss a chance that lay at his hand? The main chance for him? The chance to hold a man like Chris Quinnion in the hollow of his hand, to make him do his bidding, to set him just such work as he is doing now? Answer me! Is Bayne Trevors above a deal like that?"
She found it, another, lesser ledge which she had almost missed, and knew that this way she had clambered upward with Bayne Trevors. If she could only find another step and another before Quinnion came upon her! She held her club in her teeth; she must not let that go. Quinnion was over the ledge, following her. She heard his heavy breathing, heard him cursing her again.
But there was a message for Lee, just received by the cook. It was from Greene, the forester, brief and to the point: Greene had lost no time in finding the sheriff of the adjoining county at White Rock and in going with him to the cave. They had found Quinnion. He was dead, the manner of his death clearly indicated.
But, as he came a step closer, the heavy air of the cave grew heavier with the whiskey he carried, whiskey enough to stimulate the evil within him, not to quench it. "Stand back!" cried Judith, with a sharp intake of breath. "I want to talk with you, Chris Quinnion." "So you know who I am, do you? Well, much good it'll do you."
The moon was high in the sky, the world bright with it, when Judith left the valley into which the cañon had widened and made her way slowly upward along a timbered ridge to the west. Of Quinnion and Mad Ruth she now had no fear. Their chance of coming upon her was less than negligible.
'There are some tough customers in the country, he wrote, 'and it's foolhardy to have too much money in our old safe. That money, several hundred dollars, was never banked. It was not found on his body. Where did it go?" "Even that doesn't incriminate Quinnion, you know." "No. The rest is pure guesswork on my part. Guesswork based on what I know. Not enough to hang Chris Quinnion, Bud Lee.
She only knew that Quinnion was still coming on above her, and coming more swiftly now, quite as swiftly as she herself moved, since his feet, too, were in the better trail; that Mad Ruth had completed the descent across the chasm and by now must be crossing the stream upon some fallen log or rude bridge; that one minute more, or perhaps two, would decide her fate.
If Quinnion still carried his old six-shooter he had but two shots at most left to him, for there had been no time which he would risk in reloading. Lee swept off his hat and tossed it out before him to the spot where he believed Quinnion was and dropped swiftly to his knee as he did so. There was a snarl, Quinnion's evil snarl, and a shot that sped high above his head.
A forest ranger, perhaps, whose duty it was to ride fast and far to battle with the first spark threatening the wooded solitudes; perhaps some crew in a logging-camp, than whom none knew better the danger of spreading fires; perhaps some cow-boy, even one of her own men perhaps Quinnion and Ruth? She then would hide among the rocks until they had come and gone.
With all his soul he wished that Judith had not come with him to-night, that he had only himself to think of now. Quinnion, not to be further put off, called again, the snarl of his voice rising into ugly threat. Still Lee, thinking of Judith, hesitated. "It's the only way," she insisted. "If we gave them the money they'd want Bill Crowdy next.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking