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It would be easy to show that she had ridden down with a man suspected of being a rustler and known to be a bad character, that she had jilted him for Pasquale who was already married and a good deal more than twice her age, and that after the death of Gabriel she had turned at once to his successor.
The leader vowed vengeance on Allison. One day they met unexpectedly in the stage ranch at the crossing of the Cimarron. Mr. Allison invited the rustler to take a drink. The invitation was accepted.
For a time she sat silent also, her gaze following his. Then she turned. "That would be odd, wouldn't it?" she said. "What would?" he answered, not looking at her. "Why, if you were the man who had done that shooting! It would follow out the idea of my plot perfectly. For in my story the hero is hired to shoot a supposed rustler, and of course he would have to be a good shot.
My hip was grazed twice, but it didn't amount to nothin'; I'm as good as ever. Grizzly lost a piece of his ear, but he bored the rustler through that done it, so that account was squared." "Then father and Fred were not hurt?" gasped Jennie, clasping her hands and gazing inquiringly into the face of the messenger.
Phil nodded toward the animal Keller had ridden. All eyes focused hard on the horse with the white stockings. "What brand was he putting on the calf? That'll tell you who the man was." Phil and Healy looked at each other, and the latter laughed. "That's one on us. We didn't stay to look, but got right out for Mr. Rustler." "Did he kill the cow?" Phil nodded.
He was all kinds of a fool; let a few slick ones seduce him with fizz-water and oysters on the half-shell that's the kind of a weak sister he was. He got on the wrong side of the rustler line-up you know all about that, I reckon? Fierce old days, those. We didn't know anything about forest rangers or game wardens in them days." The stranger's tone was now that of a man quite certain of himself.
"Ruin!" exclaimed Venters, passionately. "Haven't you already ruined me? What do you call ruin? A year ago I was a rider. I had horses and cattle of my own. I had a good name in Cottonwoods. And now when I come into the village to see this woman you set your men on me. You hound me. You trail me as if I were a rustler. I've no more to lose except my life." "Will you leave Utah?" "Oh!
The other rustler did not speak. He was small, swarthy-faced, with sloe-black eyes and matted hair, evidently a white man with Mexican blood. Keen, strung, furtive, he kept motionless, awaiting events. "Buster Jack, these new pards of yours are low-down rustlers, an' one of them's worse, as I could prove," said Wade, "but compared with you they're all gentlemen." Belllounds leered.
While the confused horror of it raced through her brain, she noticed subconsciously that her fingers on the sill were trembling violently. What could she do? She was only a girl. These men deferred to her in the trivial pleasantries, but she knew they would go their grim way no matter how she pleaded. And it would be her fault. She had betrayed the rustler to them.
I got a job in the Strip, not riding, but as a kind of an all-round rustler. This was long before the country was fenced, and they rode lines to keep the cattle on their ranges. One evening about nightfall in December, the worst kind of a blizzard struck us that the country had ever seen. The next day it was just as bad, and BLOODY cold.
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