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Updated: August 21, 2024
Stafford had told him that he had Leviatt's word that Radford was the thief who had been stealing the Two Diamond cattle. Stafford had said also that it had been Leviatt who had suggested employing a gunfighter had even gone to Dry Bottom with the manager for the purpose of finding one. And now that one had been employed Leviatt had become suddenly antagonistic to him.
Hal Dunbar waited, holding his breath. One brilliant picture was dawning on his mind himself mounted on great black Diablo and swinging over the hills at a matchless gallop. The picture vanished. Jack Hood had left the fireplace and was crossing the room with his alert, quick step. His nerves showed in that step; and it was nerve power that made him a dreaded gunfighter.
He pitched me out three times hand-runnin' once, when the Durant played the Cole School." Saxon sat back in the Morris chair, resting and thinking. The problem was growing more complicated than ever. This elderly, round-bellied, and bald-headed gunfighter, too, had a wife and family. And there was Frank Davis, married barely a year and with a baby boy.
The telegram had been sent "collect," and Bill Sandersen groaned as he paid the bill. But when he opened the telegram he did not begrudge the money. Riley Sinclair is harder than he looks, but absolutely honest and will pay fairer than anybody. Avoid all trouble. Trust his word, but not his temper. Gunfighter, but not a bully. By the way, your pal Lowrie shot himself last week.
The long fingers of Bill Sandersen slowly gathered the telegram into a ball and crushed it against the palm of his hand. That ball he presently unraveled to reread the telegram; he studied it word by word. "Absolutely honest!" It made Sandersen wish to go straight to the gunfighter, put his cards on the table, confess what he had done to Sinclair's brother, and then express his sorrow.
"Are you a son of that Duane who was a gunfighter some years back?" "Yes," replied Duane. "Never met him, and glad I didn't," said Bland, with a grim humor. "So you got in trouble and had to go on the dodge? What kind of trouble?" "Had a fight." "Fight? Do you mean gun-play?" questioned Bland. He seemed eager, curious, speculative. "Yes. It ended in gun-play, I'm sorry to say," answered Duane.
Buckley Duane how strange the name looked! "Right here ends the career of Buck Duane, outlaw and gunfighter," said MacNelly; and, seating himself, he took the pen from Duane's fingers and wrote several lines in several places upon the paper. Then with a smile he handed it to Duane. "That makes you a member of Company A, Texas Rangers."
The glance of Pierre still lingered on Gandil as he turned and followed Wilbur up the complaining stairs to the one habitable room in the second story of the house. It was set aside for the use of Jacqueline. At the door Wilbur said: "Shrug your shoulders back; you look as if you were going to jump at something. And wipe the wolf look off your face. After all, Jack's a girl, not a gunfighter."
"I dunno, Bill, but he looks like a hard one. He's got one of them nervous right hands." "Gunfighter?" "I dunno. I'm not saying anything about what he is or what he ain't. But, if a gent was to come in here and tell me a pretty strong yarn about Riley Sinclair, or whatever his name might be, I wouldn't incline to doubt of it, would you, Bill?"
"Well, when Johnny Strange told about Pete being out there, Sheriff Anderson was in the room and he rises up. "'Don't look good to me, he says. 'If a gunfighter is losing money, most like he'll fight to win it back. Maybe I'll go out and look that game over. "And saying that he slopes out of the room. "Well, none of us took much stock in the sheriff going out to take care of Armstrong.
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