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Updated: June 27, 2025
I'll wager he'd rather see a stick of dynamite than a marshal. Remember when we get in that place that we're not after Jim Silent or any one else. We're simply travelling cowboys. No questions. I expect to learn something about the location of Silent's gang while we're here, but we'll never find out except by hints and chance remarks. We have to watch Morris like hawks.
And Haines has told us that when he was set free Barry said he would get him again. And Barry did get him again. Remember that, and he got all the rest of Silent's gang, and now there lies Jim Silent dead. They's two things to remember. The first is that Whistlin' Dan has rid away without any shootin' irons on his hip. That looks as if he's come to the end of his long trail.
In all these insane ravings, the demagogue was most ably seconded by the ex-monk. Incessant and unlicensed were the invectives hurled by Peter Dathenus from his pulpit upon William the Silent's head.
The statesman had been foremost to urge the claim of William the Silent's son upon the stadholderate of Holland and Zeeland, and had been, as it were, the youth's political guardian. He had himself borne arms more than once before, having shouldered his matchlock under Batenburg, and marched on that officer's spirited but disastrous expedition for the relief of Haarlem.
"Then maybe he'd like a friend to fight by his side," said Buck simply. "So long, Joe!" The old man wrung his hand and then followed him out to the hitching-rack where Buck's horse stood. "Ain't Dan got no friends among the crowd?" asked Cumberland. "Don't they give him no thanks for catching the rest of Silent's gang?" "They give him lots of credit," said Buck.
"Any way you want," said Calder, "but first hear my plan it doesn't take long to tell it." The darkness thickened around them while he talked. The fire died out the night swallowed up their figures. When Lee Haines rode into Silent's camp that evening no questions were asked. Questions were not popular among the long riders.
Everybody is gettin' wise to Silent, an' the rest of you. Pretty soon hell's goin' to bust loose. "'You've been sayin' that for two years, says I. "He stopped an' looked at me sort of thoughtful an' pityin'. Then he steps up close to me an' whispers in that voice: 'D'you know who's on Silent's trail now? Eh? "'No, an' I don't give a damn, says I, free an' careless. "'Tex Calder! says he."
He had only the faintest clues to guide him, yet he managed to keep close on the trail of the great outlaw. After several days he rode across a tall red-roan stallion, a mere wreck of a horse with lean sides and pendant head and glazed eye. It was a long moment before Dan recognized Silent's peerless mount, Red Pete. The outlaw had changed his exhausted horse for a common pony.
Such had become the primitive simplicity of William the Silent's household. But on his death, in embarrassed circumstances, it was still more straightened.
Those who see anything tortuous in such politics must beware of judging the intriguing age of Philip and Catherine de' Medici by the higher standard of later, and possibly more candid times. It would have been puerile for a man of William the Silent's resources, to allow himself to be outwitted by the intrigues of all the courts and cabinets in Europe.
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