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Updated: June 18, 2025
Venters slowly let go of her. There was a violent break in the force of his feeling then creeping blankness. "What was it you said?" he asked, in a kind of dull wonder. "I am his daughter." "Oldring's daughter?" queried Venters, with life gathering in his voice. "Yes." With a passionately awakening start he grasped her hands and drew her close. "All the time you've been Oldring's daughter?"
After his first burst of surprise and rapid calculation Venters lost no time there, but slunk again into the sage on his back trail. With the discovery of Oldring's hidden cattle-range had come enlightenment on several problems. Here the rustler kept his stock, here was Jane Withersteen's red herd; here were the few cattle that had disappeared from the Cottonwoods slopes during the last two years.
She's sweeter 'n the sage." "Lassiter, I know, I know. And the hell of it is that in spite of her innocence and charm she's she's not what she seems!" "I wouldn't want to of course, I couldn't call you a liar, Venters," said the older man. "What's more, she was Oldring's Masked Rider!"
Two horsemen were within a hundred yards, coming straight at him. One, lagging behind the other, was Oldring's Masked Rider. Venters cunningly sank, slowly trying to merge into sage-brush. But, guarded as his action was, the first horse detected it. He stopped short, snorted, and shot up his ears. The rustler bent forward, as if keenly peering ahead.
Venters's strangely acute faculties grasped the meaning of that limp arm, of the swaying hulk, of the gasp and heave, of the quivering beard. But was that awful spirit in the black eyes only one of vitality? "Man why didn't you wait? Bess was " Oldring's whisper died under his beard, and with a heavy lurch he fell forward.
Venters knew he wasted time in pondering the question, but it held a fascination not easily dispelled. For many years Oldring's mysterious entrance and exit to Deception Pass had been all-absorbing topics to sage-riders. All at once the dog put an end to Venters's pondering. Ring sniffed the air, turned slowly in his tracks with a whine, and then growled. Venters wheeled.
I remember it's a name easy to remember and Jerry Card appeared to be on fair terms with Oldring's men." "I shouldn't wonder," replied Venters, thoughtfully.
That she should not want to return to them staggered Venters. Presently, as logical thought returned, her appeal confirmed his first impression that she was more unfortunate than bad and he experienced a sensation of gladness. If he had known before that Oldring's Masked Rider was a woman his opinion would have been formed and he would have considered her abandoned.
But she's dead to you dead to the life you made her lead dead as you will be in one second!" Swift as lightning Venters's glance dropped from Oldring's rolling eyes to his hands. One of them, the right, swept out, then toward his gun and Venters shot him through the heart. Slowly Oldring sank to his knees, and the hand, dragging at the gun, fell away.
"You fetched back them hosses. Thet is the trick. An', of course, you got Jerry the same as you got Horne." "Horne!" "Sure. He was found dead yesterday all chewed by coyotes, en' he'd been shot plumb center." "Where was he found?" "At the split down the trail you know where Oldring's cattle trail runs off north from the trail to the pass." "That's where I met Jerry and the rustlers.
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