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Updated: June 4, 2025
"The man I told you about the man I took you for the man for whose sake the Duchess ran away the chap I was watching for." "And the other?" Mark nodded toward the gunman, who still lay unconscious. "Oh, he doesn't matter." Saunders spoke carelessly. "He'll get out of it. It's all been arranged, of course. They really sent me here to watch her; evidently they had him trailed from the beginning."
How they were harried and followed and shot down would not make pleasant reading, and what happened to those who were captured it is not necessary to write, as you will remember what the cattlemen had sworn to do at their meeting. After this, if there had been any who doubted Mart Cooley's skill as a gunman, they doubted no longer.
Giving what time he had free to ranch matters at Las Flores the sheriff found other things to occupy him. There was a gamblers' fight one night at the camp at Las Palmas mines, a man badly hurt, an ill-starred bystander dead, the careless gunman a fugitive, headed for the border.
"Don't class me with murderers." "You are known from one end of the country to the other as a gunman." He answered impassively: "Did these men who call me a gunman ever tell you why I'm one?" She seemed in too hostile a mood to answer. "I guess not," he went on. "Let me tell you now. The next time you hear me called a gunman you can tell them." "I won't listen," she exclaimed, restive.
And he thought of Red November, and wondered what had been the fate of that personage at the hands of the valiant young patrolman. Almost undoubtedly the gunman had escaped arrest.... Shaynon had turned and was striding away toward the Fifth Avenue entrance, when Marian roused P. Sybarite with a word. "Finis," she said, enchanting him with the frank intimacy of her smile.
The man was a variation of a type known to Lindsay. That type was the Arizona bad-man. If this expensively dressed fellow was not the Eastern equivalent of the Western gunman, Clay's experience was badly at fault. The fishy, expressionless eyes, the colorless face, the tight-lipped jaw, expressed a sinister personality and a dangerous one.
"Limpy Red" was a gunman of some renown, evil faced and having nothing much to lose, desperate. Whoever the master criminal of the Clutching Hand might have been he had seen fit to employ Limpy but had not taken the precaution of getting rid of him soon enough when he was through.
The anesthetic bullet provides the poor marksman with all the advantages of the expert gunman of unerring aim." I marvelled at the ingenuity of the man who could figure out how to overcome the seeming impossibility of accurate shooting from a car racing at high speed. Surely, he must be a desperate fellow.
"So the one they call the Boss has led up to the refuge of the Chief, the scientific gunman, at last," Garrick exclaimed, with marked satisfaction, as we turned and walked slowly back again to our car. "Yes," I assented, "and now that we have found them what are we to do with them?" "It is still early in the day," Garrick remarked, looking at his watch. "They suspect no trouble up here.
"Yes, it is probably down at headquarters. But they're too busy to look for it now. But they may later. So far you haven't been recognized then?" "Only by you, and it'd take a pretty clever guy " "No compliments, Spotty. We've gotten over that. You disguised yourself very well, but the freckles show through." "Yes, damn 'em!" heartily exploded the gunman. "I can't cover 'em up.
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