Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 11, 2025
But Mac Strann did not raise his head or cast a glance after the marshal. He sat turning the limp hand of Jerry back and forth in his own, and his eyes wandered vaguely through the window and down to the roofs of the village.
The terror was still white upon the face of Haw-Haw, but something stronger than fear kept him in the room and even drew him a slow step towards Mac Strann; and his eyes moved from the face of the dead man to the face of the living and seemed to draw sustenance from both. He moistened his lips and was able to speak. "Forget you, Mac? Not if you get the man that fixed him."
But Mac Strann and Haw-Haw Langley knew the sound well enough. When they mounted their saddles they could look over the top of the little hill and observe everything easily without being seen; for the hill-top commanded a range of the corrals and a view of the fronts of the barns and sheds which opened upon the fenced enclosures.
Next the watchers saw a struggle among the group which watched. Three men were struggling with Buck Daniels, but presently he wrenched his arms free, struck down two men before him with swinging blows of his fists, and leaped into the smoke. "He's gone nutty, like a crazy hoss with the sight of the fire," said Mac Strann quietly. "He ain't! He ain't!" cried Haw-Haw Langley, wild with excitement.
It checked the animal in its very leap; it landed on the floor and slid on stiffly extended legs to the feet of Strann. "Bart!" rang the voice again. And the beast, flattening to the floor, crawled backwards, inch by inch; it was slavering, and there was a ravening madness in its eyes. "Look at it!" cried Strann. "By God, it's mad!" And he raised his gun to draw the bead.
"No," he said, "it ain't possible. Besides, what Kate says may be true. She ought to know she says he'll wait for Mac Strann. I didn't think of that; I thought I was savin' Dan from another well, what a damn fool I been!" He unknotted his bandana and with it mopped his face to a semblance of cleanliness. "It was the ridin' that done it," he explained, shame-faced.
Mac Strann could follow him easily, for the man's hat was off, and the firelight glittered on his black hair. That glimmering head darted here and there among the circling cattle. Now it was lost, swamped, to all appearances, under a score of trampling hooves. Again it reappeared on the further side.
All the bitterness of the mountain-desert was in Haw-Haw Langley; if his body looked like a buzzard, his soul was the soul of the vulture itself, and therefore he had followed the courses of Jerry Strann up and down the range. He stuffed his gorge with the fragments of his leader's food; he fed his soul with the dangers which Jerry Strann met and conquered.
"Stranger," she said in a stage whisper, "Mac Strann is in town!" The eyes of Buck Daniels wandered. "Don't you know him?" she asked. "Nope." "Never heard of him?" "Nope." "Well," sighed the waitress, "you've had some luck in your life. Take a cross between a bulldog and a mustang and a mountain-lion that's Mac Strann. He's in town, and he's here for killin'." "You don't say, ma'am.
Mac Strann could see the runner in a comparatively open space, racing like a trained sprinter, and he headed straight towards a wall of tossing horns. They were long-horns, and one sway of those lowered heads could drive the hard, sharp point through and through the body of a man.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking