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Updated: May 11, 2025
His voice was clear and loud, almost piercing. "Yes," replied Longstreth. Like flint he seemed, yet Duane felt his intense interest. "I've arrested a criminal," said Duane. "Arrested a criminal!" ejaculated Longstreth. "You? Who're you?" "I'm a ranger," replied Duane. A significant silence ensued. "I charge Snecker with assault on Laramie and attempted robbery if not murder.
He was half sittin' on a table, an' Steele was behind an' to the left of him. For Blome to make a move then would have been a fool trick. He saw that. So did everybody. The crowd slid back without noise, but Bo Snecker an' a rustler named March stuck near Blome. I figured this Bo Snecker as dangerous as Blome, an' results proved I was right.
But thet's the love such men have for bein' thought hell. That's brains headin' the rustler gang hereabouts." "Maybe Blome and Snecker are blinds. Savvy what I mean, Morton? Maybe there's more in the parade than just the fame of it." Morton snapped his big jaw as if to shut in impulsive words. "Look here, Morton. I'm not so young in years even if I am young west of the Pecos. I can figure ahead.
I swept my glance over the crowd, but did not see Snecker. "I'm in some hurry," I added. "Bill ain't here," said a man at the table nearest me. "Air you comin' from Morton?" "Nit. But I'm not yellin' this message." The rustler rose, and in a few long strides confronted me. "Word from Sampson!" I whispered, and the rustler stared. "I'm in his confidence. He's got to see Bill at once.
I replied with impatience. "You see, I haven't ever lived long in a rustler-run county. Who heads the gang anyway?" Frank Morton looked at me with a curiously-amused smile. "I hear lots about Jack Blome and Snecker. Everybody calls them out and out bad. Do they head this mysterious gang?" "Russ, I opine Blome an' Snecker parade themselves off boss rustlers same as gun throwers.
Verily Ranger Steele had built his house of service upon a rock. It did not seem too much to say that the next few days, perhaps hours, would see a great change in the character and a proportionate decrease in number of the inhabitants of this corner of Pecos County. Morton and I were in the crowd that watched Blome, Snecker, and a dozen other rustlers march down to Steele's jail.
I could have started that very day and have borne up under any pain or distress. Strange to see, too, how Steele and Diane responded to the stimulus of my idea, to the promise of what lay beyond the wild and barren hills! He told me that day about the headlong flight of every lawless character out of Linrock, the very hour that Snecker and Wright and Sampson were known to have fallen.
Snecker could be managed; Sampson might be trapped into arrest; but Wright had no sense, no control, no fear. He would snarl like a panther and go for his gun, and he would have to be killed. This, of all consummations, was the one to be calculated upon. And, of course, by Sally's own words, that contingency would put me forever outside the pale for her.
Duane had suddenly conceived the idea of taking Snecker before Mayor Longstreth in the court. When Duane arrived at the hall where court was held there were other men there, a dozen or more, and all seemed excited; evidently, news of Duane had preceded him. Longstreth sat at a table up on a platform. Near him sat a thick-set grizzled man, with deep eyes, and this was Hanford Owens, county judge.
However, this wreck of the jail did not seem to satisfy Blome and his followers, for amid wild yells and huzzahs they set to work with crowbars and soon laid low every stone. Then with young Snecker in the fore they set off up town; and if this was not a gang in fit mood for any evil or any ridiculous celebration I greatly missed my guess.
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