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Updated: May 6, 2025
Sinclair'll see you damned before he lifts a hand for you!" Riley retorted savagely. He strode to his horse and expended his wrath by viciously jerking at the cinches, until the mustang groaned. Sheriff Kern came suddenly into clear view around the last turn and rode quickly up to them, a very short man, muscular, sweaty.
"Why, I thought they said you cottoned to him when the boys was figuring he might have had something to do with Quade?" "Me? Well, yes, for a minute. But out at the necktie party, Whitey, I kept watching him. Thinks a lot more'n he says, and gents like that is always dangerous." "Always," replied Whitey. "But it's the last time Sinclair'll show his face in Sour Creek alive," said Sandersen.
"Company for you, Riley," said the sheriff, as the tall cowpuncher rose. The other's back was turned, and thereby the sheriff was enabled to pass a significant gesture and look to Sinclair. With that he left them. In the outer room he found his deputy much alarmed. "You ain't turned them two in together?" he asked. "Why, Sinclair'll kill that gent in about a minute.
"It was him that double-crossed me," said the sheriff, vastly relieved. "He come like a friend, stuck me up on the trail when I wasn't lookin' for no trouble, and he got away with Gaspar." A chorus, astonished, eager. "What did he do it for?" "No man'll ever know," said the sheriff. "Why not?" "Because Sinclair'll be dead before he has a chance to look a jury in the face."
"I suppose Ruth and Sinclair'll pair off and give us a chance." "You'll come?" "Right after din supper, I mean. In the East we have dinner in the evening." "Isn't that queer!" exclaimed Susan. But she was thinking of the joys in store for her at the close of the day. "I must go back now," said Sam. Far up the street he saw his sister's pony cart coming. "You might as well walk to the store."
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