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Updated: May 9, 2025
The deputy had won out and that was all there was to it. As a matter of fact only a month or so later a horse-thief from Lincoln County, New Mexico, came to grief at Galeyville because he did not understand Breckenbridge's status in the rustlers' metropolis.
"Pan!" she gasped, with dilating eyes. "What are you saying?" "I'm trying to tell you one of the queer facts about the ranges," replied Pan. "I've known cowmen to shoot rustlers. Cowmen who had themselves branded cattle not their own. This was a practice. They didn't think it crooked. They all did it. But it was crooked, when you come down to truth.
"We accounted for quite a few, but I'm sorry for our boys." Several of the Diamond X outfit had been grievously wounded, and one was killed outright. But the casualties on the side of the enemy were greater. The fight was over. The cattle of the boy ranchers were saved, and the rustlers captured.
The boy ranchers and their friends had ridden in on what I might call the north end of the volcanic crater, in which bowl the rustlers had hidden the cattle. The opening by which the cattle had been placed in the bowl had been closed by a slide of dirt and shale but this had been partly cleared away by our friends so they could ride through the crack.
Hare bounded out upon the garden walk and raced back to the crowded square. The uneasy circle stirred and opened for him to enter. He stumbled over a pile of lassoes which had not been there when he left. The stony Mormons waited; the rustlers coughed and shifted their feet. John Caldwell turned a gray face.
"Throw up yo' hands!" The Kid invited. But they didn't. Lead began to hum viciously. Bending low in their saddles, they drew and opened up a splattering fire. Their guns winked red flashes. Lefty's man had shown fight, Lefty had bowled him over with a double trigger pull, and Lefty came racing back to help Red with the two rustlers at the camp fire. There were fireworks, and plenty of them!
He knew that Webb would tell him all he needed to know. "Says I'm a waddy! Says I'm a crook!" burst out the deposed foreman. "Wish you joy of yore job, Wrayburn. You'll have one heluva time." "You will if Yankie can bring it about," amended the cattleman. He spoke coldly and contemptuously just as if the man were not present. "I've made up my mind, Dad, that he's in cahoots with the rustlers."
He's a wolf, and he's got the tricks of a wolf, he skulked ahead of 'em with a little pack of his rustlers and led 'em into his trap, then the men he had hid there and ready they popped up as thick as grass. They've got fifty of my men shut up there where they can't git to water, and where they can't fight back. Now, what do you think of that?"
The alkali dust was caked on his unshaven face and the weary bronco was dripping with sweat. The owner of the Flying V Y, giving some last instructions to the foreman, turned to listen to the sputtering rider. "They they done run off that bunch of beeves on the berrendo," he explained, trembling with excitement. "Who?" "I don't know. A bunch of rustlers. About a dozen of 'em.
Dave also plunged his head down in a puddle and soused his arms and hands in it. "There, I feel better," he said." A heapsight better. And now what am I going to do with you?" he asked as he saw Len's abandoned horse cropping the grass near the tank. "I can't leave you here for rustlers to make off with. You're too good an animal, if you do belong to a mean skunk.
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