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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Tresler's bin done up," Arizona replied at once. "Guess the gang got around Willow Bluff God's curse light on 'em!" "Hah! And where are you taking him?" "Up-sta'rs," was the brief reply. Then the cowpuncher bethought him of his duty to his employer. "Guess the cattle are safe, fer which you ken thank the sheriff's gang. Miss Dianny's hustlin' a bunk fer him," he added.
A red, perspiring face, tufted at the point of the chin with a knot of gray whisker, a pair of keen gray eyes, and a mouth yes, it was the mouth that held Tresler's attention. It went up on one side, and had somehow got mixed up with his cheek, while a suggestion of it was continued by means of a dark red scar right up to the left eye.
However, the man, in face of Diane's departure, was unusually cheerful, and the wise old Joe quickly observed the fact. For Joe to observe anything of interest was the cue for him to inquire further, and thus he set himself to watch Jake. And his watching quickly resulted in Tresler's attention being called to Jake's movements at night.
Joe swung round, and was peering up into Tresler's face. "Ah, I forgot." Tresler's expression was very thoughtful. They had arrived at the barn, and were dismounting. "I was following out my own train of thought. I agree with you, Joe, Red Mask and his doings are at the bottom of this business." His voice had dropped now to a low whisper lest any one should chance to be around.
Tresler's finger was on the trigger, while his eyes were fixed on his mark. But the hammer did not fall; the final compression of the hand was stayed, while horror leapt into the eyes so keenly looking over the sight. Something had happened up there on the face of the cliff. The man had slipped!
He felt that he was acting the brute, but it was the only way. Every barrier must be swept aside. At last she threw her head back with an impatient movement, and a slight flush of anger tinged her cheeks. "And what if it were no accident?" "The bruises or the lamp?" "Both." "Then" and Tresler's tone was keenly incisive "it is the work of some cruelly disposed person.
An' I sez it wi'out offense, ther' ain't a blazin' thing born in this world that don't reckon to con-clude fer itself 'fore it's rightly begun. Everything needs teachin', from a 'tenderfoot' to a New York babby." Joe's homily banished the last shadow of Tresler's ill-humor.
And his thoughts made him smile unpleasantly. If Tresler's first greeting had been indifferent, his reception, as he came over to the bunkhouse now, was far from being so. Talk flowed freely, inquiries hailed him on every side; jests passed, sometimes coarse, sometimes subtle, but always cordial. All the men on the ranch had a fair good-will for him.
That is the man whose cleverness and bravery you even praised. You want me to refuse him the trifling aid I can give him. You are a monster! You have parted us, but it is not sufficient; you want his life." She suddenly bent over and seized her father's hand, where it rested upon Tresler's heart, and dragged it away. "Take your hand off him; don't touch him!" she cried in a frenzy. "You are not "
Ther' ain't bin a feller slep in that bunk since Dave went away." "Why?" Tresler's interest was agog. "Why?" Arizona's voice rose. "'Cos it's mussed all up wi' a crazy man's blood. A crazy man as wus killed right here, kind of, by Jake Harnach." "I heard something of it." "Heerd suthin' of it? Wal, I guess ther' ain't a feller around this prairie as ain't yelled hisself hoarse 'bout Dave.
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