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Updated: June 18, 2025
He was riding one of Vesta Philbrook's horses, a circumstance that sharpened Lambert's interest in him at once. As they closed the distance between them, Lambert keeping his hand in the easy neighborhood of his gun, the man raised his hand, palm forward, in the Indian sign of peace. Lambert saw that he wore a shoulder holster which supported two heavy revolvers.
"Funny thing about Vesta comin' home, too," he said, and stopped a little, as if to consider the humor of it. Lambert looked at him with a sudden wrench of the neck. "Which?" "Philbrook's luck held out, it looked like, till she got through her education. All through the fights he had and the scrapes he run into the last ten years he never got a scratch.
A little while she gazed back at them, then waved her hat as in exultant challenge, whirled her horse, and galloped over the hill. That was the one taunt needed to set off the slow magazine of Vesta Philbrook's wrath. She cut her horse a sharp blow with her quirt and took up the pursuit so quickly that Lambert could not interpose either objection or entreaty.
"Duke" she turned to him suddenly, her eyes wide and luminous, her heart going so he could see the tremor of its vibrations in the lace at her throat "I want you to lend me tomorrow morning, for one day, just one day, Duke five hundred head of Vesta Philbrook's cattle." "That's a funny thing to ask, Grace," said he uneasily.
To the world that never scaled these crumbling heights, Philbrook's mansion appeared as if it endured independent of those vulgar appendages indeed. "Looks like they've got the barn where the house ought to be," said Taterleg. "I'll bet the wind takes the hide off of a feller up here in the wintertime." "It's about as bleak a place for a house as a man could pick," Lambert agreed.
He wondered whether she would read his hope that she would be there at the same hour, or whether she might be afraid to risk Vesta Philbrook's fury again. There was an eagerness in him for the hastening of the intervening time, a joyous lightness which tuned him to such harmony with the world that he sang as he rode. Taterleg was going to Glendora that night. He pressed Lambert to join him.
Well, I guess you're a little wider known than you make out. I didn't bring a man along with me because I knew you were up here at Philbrook's. Hold up your hand and be sworn." "What's the occasion?" Lambert inquired, making no move to comply with the order. "I've got a warrant for this man Kerr over south of here, and I want you to go with me. Kerr's a bad egg, in a nest of bad eggs.
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