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Updated: May 11, 2025
It's on my land the Quirt's got a right to fence every foot of land that belong to 'em." All the way over the ridge and across the flat and up the steep, narrow road along the edge of Spirit Canyon, Brit dwelt upon the probable moves of the Sawtooth. They would wait, he thought, until the fence was completed and they had made a trail around through the lava rocks.
Swan had learned something of these friends of the Sawtooth, and he could guess pretty accurately how far some of them would go in their service. Fresh horses for Al, food perhaps even a cabin where he could hide Lorraine away were to be expected from any one of them, once Al was over the divide.
You gave yourself away when I showed you Fred's saddle. After that I knew who was the Sawtooth killer that I came here to find." "You thought you knew," Lone corrected calmly. "You don't have to lie," Swan informed him bluntly. "You don't have to tell anything. I find out for myself if I make mistake." "Go to it," Lone advised him coldly.
We ain't ridin' up and down the trail, flourishin' our six-shooters and yellin' to the Sawtooth to come on and we'll clean 'em up!" "But you're fighting just the same, aren't you, dad? You're not letting them " "We're makin' out to live here and we've been doin' it for twenty-five year," Brit told her, with a certain grim dignity. "We've still got a few head uh stock left enough to live on.
Brit's voice was very weak, but Lorraine jumped as though a trumpet had bellowed suddenly in her ear. "Swan he's all right. But don't go telling all yuh know and some besides. He ain't Sawtooth, but he might let out " "I know. I won't, dad. It was that horse " Brit turned his face to the wall as if no more was to be said on the subject.
The Sawtooth, under the management of a greatly chastened young Bob Warfield, was slowly winning its way back to the respect of its neighbours. For certain personal reasons there was no real neighbourliness between the Quirt and the Sawtooth. There could not be, so long as Brit's memory remained clear, and Bob was every day reminded of the crimes his father had paid a man to commit.
They were formerly numerous in the rocky regions about Silver Lake, and a few still inhabited the ridges northeast of Abert Lake. In Nevada Mr. Bailey found sheep in the Toyabe range. Mr. Bailey found sheep in the Seven Devils Mountains, and he and Dr. Merriam found them in the Salmon River, Pahsimeroi and Sawtooth Mountains, all in Idaho. Mr.
Fred Thurman had been one; a "bull-headed cuss" who had the temerity to fight back when the Sawtooth calmly laid claim to the first water rights to Granite Creek, having bought it, they said, with the placer claim of an old miner who had prospected along the headwaters of Granite at the base of Bear Top. By that time the Sawtooth had grown to a power no poor man could hope to defeat.
Senator Warfield showed no especial interest in Swan, and the Swede was permitted without comment to take his dog and strike off up the ridge. Jim and Sorry were sent to look after Brit, who was still shouting vain threats against the Sawtooth, and the three men rode away together.
Lorraine sat down and folded her arms on the oilcloth-covered table. "Dad, what is Whisper?" "Whisper's a camp up against a cliff, over west of here. It belongs to the Sawtooth. Is that all he said? Just that he wanted to see me?" "He talked a little," Lorraine admitted, her eyebrows pulled down. "If he saw you leave, I shouldn't think he'd come here and ask for you."
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