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Updated: June 7, 2025
Now, what do you do?" "I don't believe he was rustling at all." "Course you don't believe it. That proves just what I was saying." "Jim doesn't believe it, either." "Yeager's opinion don't have any weight with me. I want to tell you right now that the boys are getting mighty leary of Jim. He's getting too thick with that Bear Creek bunch."
If you are a liberator, as they say you are, you won't let him force me to it, general, will you?" At the sound of that voice Yeager's heart jumped. He would have known it among ten thousand. Little beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. The primitive instinct to kill seared across his brain and left him for the moment dizzy and trembling. There was a grin on Pasquale's ugly mug.
By nature a swaggering bully, he had only to turn loose his real impulses to register what the director wanted of a bad man. In the rough-and-tumble life he had led, it had been Yeager's business to know men. He made no mistake about Harrison. The fellow might be a loud-mouthed braggart; none the less he would go the limit. The man was game.
"I ain't said anything, have I?" Healy came back smoothly. Yeager's quiet voice broke the silence that followed, while Phil was trying to voice the resentment in him. "You mean what we're all thinking, Brill, I reckon that she is the sort to forget herself when somebody needs her help. Ain't that it?" The eyes of the two met steadily in a clash of wills.
The "bad men" of Yeager's acquaintance had usually been quiet, soft-spoken citizens, notable chiefly for a certain chilliness of the eye and an efficient economy of expression that eliminated waste. Those that Threewit featured were of a different type. They strutted and bragged and made gun plays on every possible occasion. Perhaps this was why Harrison's stuff got across.
Phil and Jackson caught up with old Dan a mile or so beyond the point where the road to the Lazy B left the main traveled trail. "The other boys hitting the dust for the ranch?" asked Jackson. "Yep." "Yeager's got it right. They won't find Harrison there. He'll go through with his play. Chad's no quitter." Dan nodded.
Phil borrowed the knife to fix a stirrup leather, and forgot to give it back to me." "Your brother?" "Yes." He was taken aback. There was nothing for it but a white lie. "I found it near Yeager's mine yesterday. I reckon he must have dropped it on his way there." "I don't see anything very mysterious about that," she said frostily.
His small black eyes were wary and defiant. The cowpuncher laughed, lightly and easily. "I'm only a kid. Mr. Threewit comes from the East and don't know anything about this rustling game. We thought of you right away." "What do you mean you thought of me?" Yeager's eyes were innocent and steady. "Why, o' course we came to you for advice to ask you what we'd better do." "Oh! That's it, eh?"
She had nothing to say, and he saw she was obstinately determined to carry her point. Finally, with a little chuckle at her stubbornness, he gave in and turned round. "All right. Yeager's it is. We're acting like a pair of kids, seems to me." This last with a propitiatory little smile toward her which she disdained to answer. Yeager saw them from afar, and recognized the girl.
The main features of that tale would be that he and Duke had cut their trail by accident, suspected rustling, and followed as far as the Mimbres Pass, where Keller had shot Duke and been in turn shot by Healy. It was a neat plan, and one that would have been fairly sure of success but for one unforeseen contingency the approach of Yeager's posse a half hour too soon.
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