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Updated: May 6, 2025
He was apparently about fifty years of age. He grinned at Calumet's belligerent motion. "Hearin' me?" he said to Calumet's cold, inquiring glance. The latter's eyes glowed. "Layin' for me, eh? Thanks." He looked curiously at the other. "Who are you?" he said. "I'm Dave Toban, the sheriff." He threw back one side of his vest and revealed a small silver star.
With a short laugh he released her and stepped over to where Taggart lay, looking down at him with a cold, satisfied smile. "I reckon you won't bother nobody any more," he said. He turned to Betty, the pale stiffness of his lips softening a little as she smiled at him. "I want to thank you," he said, "for sendin' Toban after me. He caught me.
He went to the Arrow first. He told me he was going to kill the Taggarts. Then he is going to get out of the Territory. Oh, Toban, catch him please! Toban laughed. "I ain't been blind, girl," he said; "the talks I've had with you in old Marston's office have wised me up to how things stand between you an' him. I'll ketch him, don't worry about that.
Go to him, Toban get him to come back!" "Shucks," said Toban, grinning; "I reckon you don't need to worry none. If Taggart's over in the timber an' he sees Calumet he'll just naturally forget he's got a gun. But if it'll ease your mind any, I'll go after him. Damn his hide, anyway!" he chuckled. "I was braggin' up my cayuse to him, an' after we met Dade an' Malcolm he run plumb away from me. Ride!
A minute later he thrust his head into the room the pup was in his arms, still wrapped in the blanket and spluttering gratefully through the dressings, "I got 'im, Doc, good-bye," away went Private Toban en route to Blighty. The Incorrigible. Private Saunders of the th Canadian battalion was a hopeless alcoholic.
"That would we, sir; at least I would. If you are a minister, and a good minister, I would as soon listen to your words as those of Father Toban himself." "And who is Father Toban?" "A powerful priest in these parts, sir, who has more than once eased me of my sins, and given me God upon the cross. Oh, a powerful and comfortable priest is Father Toban."
"And who knows me to be Father Toban?" "Och, a boy here knows your reverence to be Father Toban." "Where is that boy?" "Here he stands, your reverence." "Are you that boy?" "I am, your reverence." "And you told the rest that I was Father Toban?" "I did, your reverence." "And you know me to be Father Toban?" "I do, your reverence." "How do you know me to be Father Toban?"
More than once she had seen the sheriff coming over the hill the same hill upon which Calumet and Neal Taggart had fought their duel and she recognized the familiar figure. On his previous visits to the ranchhouse, however, Toban had left his horse in the timber clump near the house.
"As long as Bardic lore shall last, science and learning be cherished, the language and blood of the Britons undefiled, song be heard on Parnassus, heaven and earth be in existence, foam be on the surge, and water in the river, the name of Lewis of Mon shall be held in grateful remembrance." The Pier Irish Reapers Wild Irish Face Father Toban The Herd of Swine Latin Blessing.
She was not surprised, though, to hear him coming into the ranchhouse yard tonight, for his errand now was different. Toban had evidently intended to hitch his pony to the corral fence, for it was toward it that he was directing the animal, when he caught sight of Betty on the porch and rode up beside her.
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