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Updated: May 4, 2025
Webb Yeager rode to the southeast as straight as the topography of West Texas permitted. And when he reached the horizon he might have ridden on into blue space as far as knowledge of him on the Nopalito went.
He pushed in all the chips in front of him. Yeager, standing against the wall, caught the swift flash of surprise in the eyes of the boy. He counted the chips of the Mexican and then his own. These he added to the small fortune in the center of the table. "Call it. I'm fifty-three shy," he said in an even voice.
That being so, I go on record as having an opinion about Keller. You think he's on the square, and you give him a whitewashed certificate as a bony-fidy Sunday-school scholar. "Different here. I think him a coyote and a crook, and so I say it right out in meeting. Any objections?" The gaze of the boss shifted from Sanderson to Yeager, and fastened. "None in the world.
A Mexican lad, half asleep, was herding them. Immediately a devouring curiosity took hold of the cowpuncher. He wanted to see the brand on those cattle. It struck him that the shortest way was the quickest. He borrowed the field-glasses of Pasquale. As he lowered the glasses after looking through them, Yeager laughed. "Funny how things come out.
Her charming face was known and liked on the screens of several continents. Now it broke into lines of mischievous amusement. "I don't mind if Mr. Harrison doesn't." She flashed a gay, inquiring look toward that discomfited villain, who was leaning for support on his accomplice Jackson and glaring at Yeager. Impudently she tilted her chin back toward the puncher. "Are you always so so impetuous?
It was on such an occasion that Jim Yeager dropped in on them upon his return from Noches. He let his eyes travel humorously over the room before he spoke. "Why for don't I ever have the luck to be shot up?" he drawled. "Oh, you Jim!" Keller called a greeting from the bed. Phyllis came forward, and, with a heightened color, shook hands with him.
They built a fire of dead ironwood upon which they boiled coffee and fried bacon. Bread they had brought with them. After eating, they lay at ease and smoked. There was little danger of the tired cattle straying, but Yeager divided his party so that they should take turn about night-herding. He took the first watch himself. The stillness of the desert night was a thing to wonder at.
The man's black eyes snapped with a blazing fire that seemed ready to leap like a crouched tiger. "Through with me, are you? Going to use that grand-stander Yeager instead, I reckon. That's the game, is it?" "I'm not discussing my plans with you." "Ain't you? Well, I'll discuss mine to this extent. I'll make you sick of this day's work all right before I'm through with you. Get that? Plumb sick."
The biggest one of them two men in there's named Yeager, an' he's been here three toimes lately, stayin' only a few hours each toime." O'mie looked so little to me this evening! I had hardly noted how the other boys had outgrown him. "You're not very big for a horseman after all, my son, but you're grit clear through. You may do something yet the big fellows couldn't do," I said affectionately.
Was it worth while denying it? But what if Girard insisted on seeing the execution? What if he asked to see Yeager? Ramon's glance swept the obstinate face of the captain. He decided it better to acknowledge the truth. "It is to me a matter of profound regret," he sighed. "The man enlisted in our army as a spy, disguised as a peon. He is guilty of the murder of one of our men in a gambling-house.
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