aromaace or tac border
SffZARL GREY
AUTHOR OF
"THE LIGHT OF WESTERN
STARS"
"RIDERS OF THE PURPLE
SAGE”, ETC.
COPYRIGHT, BY HARPER AND EfOTHERJ
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER T—In Wellston, TeTas. ft
becomes with Buckley Duane a eas< «»f
fltfht or run from Cal Bain. Duane kifcls
his man and becomes an outlaw.
CHAPTER II—He meets Luke Stev
ens, an outlaw.
CHAPTER III -Stevens crocs Into the
town of Mercer to buy supplies and is
shot by a rancher. Duane buries him.
CHAPTER IV—Duane goes to Bland*.*
outlaw stronghold in the Kim Rock and
alter shooting Bosomer, who quarrels
with him over Stevens' d* ith. de< id*
to stay ther.* Eiu hre i «k Doan* f
a partner and tells him about Bland
the outlaw chief nd his band.
CHAPTER V Duane practices gun
throwing and hears more about Bland
and his gang.
CHAPTER VI—Euchre and Duane
call on Kate. Bland’s wife, and Jennie
a girl whom Benson kidnaped and sol.:
to Bland.
CHAPTER VII Euchre and Duan*
^ conspire to take Jennie away. Duaii
prevents a wanton murder.
CHAPTER VIIT Mrs Bland makes
love to Duane and In* uses her to fur
ther his plans. Bland returns from a
trip He asks Duane to join the band.
He is jealous of Duane and abuses Kate
and Jennie.
CHAPTER TX—Euchre kills Benson,
Is killed by Alloway. Dunn** kills Allo
wav and Bland and escapes, wounccd.
with Jennie. In a deserted hut in the
mesquite Jennie nurses him.
CHAPTER X—When Duane is strone
enough they travel out of the Rim Ii... k
to a rancher’s house, where 11 r*
covers. On their wav to She-lhvvil le
Jennie is carried off by outlaws while
Duane Is away looking for a strayed
h orse.
CHAPTER XT—After vain s. n di for
Jennie, whose abductor he kills. Duane
leads the lone-wolf 1 if* for i.x*> t *i
three years, finally getting a ns*
from Captain MeNelly .*t the rangers t
asking him to come to the captain
camp after dark.
CHAPTER XII—The message is sev
eral times repeated. Duane is <• 11.i • • • 1 by
a lynching party.
CHAPTER XT IT—A price on l.N h«• >d '
and accused of murdering a wumm.
Duane rides into Shirley to deny the .
murder. After a narrow escape from
lynching, he proves his Innocence and is j
allowed to go.
CHAPTER XTV—He goes to McNeilv’s
ranger camp. McNeil v offers hi in par
don and social restoration if hs will
become a ranger and chan out t» • 1
Cheseldine gang in the Pig Reml •*oun- :
try.
CHAPTER XV—Puck Duane, ranger
strikes the Pig Rend country md h
gins work. Cheseldine a mv terv, a
power and a horror to the country.
CHAPTER XVT—Colonel Longstreth's
daughter Ray. anti her cousin, Ruth
Herbert, are held up. Duane shoots
one of the robbers, but is puzzled by
the colonel’s condui t.
CHAPTER XVTT—In Fairdalo Duane
makes friends with I,a ramie. and cap
turing a man who has held up I .a ramie
takes him before Eongstreth. maym of
Eairdale, who discharges the thief
Without a hearing. Duane calls Ixrng
Btreth’s hand before several honest men.
CHAPTER XVTTT Duane whips Daw
son a nephew of Dongstreth. He or
ganizes resistance to Dongstreth’s
crooked methods.
CHAPTER XIX—Daramie is found
dead, a bullet hole in his breast Ray
meets Duane and asks for his friend- !
ship. She suspects her father of crook
ed practices.
The two men spend much time to
gether. Duane made tip a short ficti
tious story about himself that satis
fied the outlaw, only it drew forth a
laughing jest upon Dunne’s modesty.
For Fletcher did not hide his belief
that this new partner was a man of
achievements. Knell and Hoggin, and
then (’heseldine himself, would be
persuaded of this fact, so Fletcher
boasted. He bad influence. He would
use it. He thought he tallied it stroke
with Knell. Hut nobody on earth,
not even the boss, hud any Influence
on I’oggin. Hoggin was concentrated
ice part of tbt‘ time; sill the rest he
was bursting hell. Hut Hoggin loved
a horse. lie never loved anything
else, lb1 could be won with that
black horse Bullet, (’heseldine was
already won by 1 •lane's monumental
nerve; otherwise he would have killed
Duane.
Little by little the next few days
Duane learned the points he longed
to know; and how indelibly they etch
ed themselves in his memory! Chesol
dlne’s hiding-place was on the far
slope of Mount Ord, In a deep, high
walled valley. He always went there
just before si contemplated Job, where
he met and planned with his lieuten
CHAPTER XX—Duane, spying on
Longstreth and Lawson, knows them
for rustlers nnd bandits, and is nearly
trapped by them.
* CHAPTER XXT—Tn escaping be blun
ders into Ray's room. They argue about
tier father's crookedness. She hides
Dunne In a closet while the house Is
searched. She unwittingly discloses to
him her father's identity with ( hesrl
dine. He tells Ray he loves her.
CHAPTER XXIT—A train is held up
near Bradford Duane poses as a train
robtier and. gaining the confidence or
Fletcher, one of Cheseldine s 1 ietit. »r
ants, gets valuable information from
him
ants. Then while they executed he
basked In the sunshine before one or
another of the public places be owned.
He was there in the Ord den now,
getting ready to plan the biggest Job
yet. It was a bank-robbery; but
where, Fletcher had not as yet been
advised.
i iii ii when Im.-ine had pumj>• ■«! tin* .
! now utnenahle outlaw of nil details 1
pertaining to t!io pri'scut ho gathered
ilutn Mini fuels and places covering 11 .
period ,,r ten yiars Hotelier had heeti ;
with f'hoseldino. And herewith was
i unfolded a history so dark in Its j
I Moody regime, so inoredihle in its
brazen daring. so appalling in its proof
of the outlaw's sweep grasp ef
'he country f i 0111 Perns to ||io (Iratide.
that Duane was stunned, t’ornptired !
to thi' < 'hrsi Iditte of tie1 Pig Pend,
to this rancher, stock lutyer. entile
spe -ithtlor, property-holder, all the j
outlaws I *uatie had ever known sank
into insignificance. The power of the
man stunned Duane; the strange
fidelity given him stunned Ihiane: the
Intricate inside working of his great
system was equally stunning. Hut
when Iltiane recovered from that the
old terrible passion to kill consumed
him. and it raged fiercely and if could
not be cheeked. Tf that red-handed
l*oggin. if that eohl-eyed. dead faced
) Knell had only been at <>rd! Uut
; they were not. and Duane with help
i of time got what he hoped was ffie
! upper hand of himself.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Again inaction and suspense drag
ged at Duane’s spirit.
Dill one tiny there were signs of the
j long quiet of Orrl being broken. A
■ nu'ssi nger strange to 1 inane roih* in
I on a seeret; mission that had to do
with Fletcher. Duane was present in
i the tavern when the fellow arrived
I saw the few words whispered, hut did
1 not hear them. Fletcher turned white
with aimer or fear, perhaps both, and
lie rinsed like a madman. The rnos
i senpor rode away o1T to the west,
i This west mystified and fnseinated
Dunne as much as the south beyond
Mount Ord. After the messenger left
Fletcher grew silent and surly. It
became eiear now that the other out
laws of tiie eamp feared him. kept
out of his way. Duane let hint alone,
i vet closely watehed him.
Perhaps an hour after thA messen
ger hud left, not longer. Fletcher man
ifestly arrived at some decision, and
he eaijed for his liorse. Then lie
went to liis shark and returned. To
Duane the outlaw looked in shape both
to ride and to fight. He gave orders
for tin- men in camp to keep close
until lie returned. Then lie mounted.
“Come tiere. Dodge,” he called.
Dunne went up ami laid a hand on
the pommel of the saddle. Fleteher
walked his horse, with Duane beside
him, till they reached the log bridge,
when lie halted.
“Dodge. I’m in had with Knell,” lie
said. “An’ it ’pears I’m the cause of
friction between Knell an’ Foggy.
Knell never had any use fer mo. hut
: Foggy’s been square, if not friendly.
The boss had n big deal on, an’ here
It’s been held tip because of this
scrap. He’s waitin' over there on the
mountain to give orders to Knell or
Foggy, an’ neither one's slewin' up.
I've got to stand in the breach, an’
I ain't enjoyin’ the prospects.”
“What's the trouble about, .lira?"
asked Duane.
“lleokon it's a little about you.
f> >dge," said Fletcher, dryly. “Knoll
hadn't tuiy use for you Diet day.
Knoll claims to know somethin’ a boat
you that ’ll make both the boss an’
Foggy sick when he springs it. I’.ut
lie's keepitf quiet. Hard man to Ag
ger, thet Knell. Reckon you'd better
■ro back to Bradford fer a day or so.
then i-anip out here (ill I come back.”
“Why?”
“Will, because there ain’t any use
fer you to git in bad. too. The gang j
will ride over here any day. Tf j
they’re friendly I'll light a fire on the i
hill there, say three nights from to
night. If you don’t see i! thet night
von hit the trail. I'll do what I can.
Mill Fletcher sticks to his pals. So
long. Dodge.”
He left Duane In a quandary. This
news was black. At the moment
Duane did not know which way to
urn. but certainly he had no idea
'>r going back to ISradford. Friction
between the two great lieutenants of
(‘heseldinc! Generally such matters
were settled with guns. Duane gath
ered encouragement even from disas
ter. If Knell knew anything it was
hat this stranger in Ord, this new ^
partner of Fletcher’s, was no less than
i’.uek Duane. Well, it was about time,
j thought Duane, that he made use of
us name if It were to help him at all.
l icit name had been MncXelly's hope.
He bad anchored all Ids scheme to
Duane's fame. Duane was tempted to
ride off after Fletcher and stay with
l im. This, however, would hardly tic
fair to an outlaw who had boon fair to
him. Duane concluded to await devel
opments, and when the gang lode in
to Ord, probably from their various
hiding places, he would he there ready
to be denounced by Kuril, limine
-
could noi sco any other culmination of
this series of events than a meeting
between Knell and himself. If that
terminated fatally for Knell there was
till probability of Dunne's being in no
worse situation than he was juow. If
Poggln took up the quarrel! Here
Ituane accusetl himself again -tried in
vain to revolt from a judgment that he
was only reasoning out excuses to
meet these outlaws.
Meanwhile, instead of waiting, why
not hunt tip Oheseldinh in his moun
tain retreat? The thought no sooner
struck Duane than he was hurrying
for his horse.
In tin hour he struck the slope of
Mount Old, and as he climbed he got
among broken rocks and cliffs, and
was hard put to it to find the trail.
!Io halted at a littl«' side-canyon with
•trass and water, anti here he made
'•amp. And on this night, lonely like
the ones he used to spend in the
Nueces gorge, and memorable of them
because of a likeness to that old hid
ing-place. hi' felt the pressing return
of old haunting filings—the past so
i long ago, wild flights, dead faces—
■md t! ■ places of these were taken
y rei quiveringl.v alive, white, tragic,
with its dark, intent, speaking eyes—
I»ay T.ongstreth's.
That last memory he yielded to un
, lil lie slept.
In the morning, satisfied that he
| had left still fewer tracks than he had
! followed up this trail, he led his
horse up to the head of the canyon,
into n narrow crack In low cliffs, and
wilh branches of cedar fenced him in.
Then lie went back and took up the
trail on foot.
Without the horse he made better
time. Once, through a wide gateway
between great escarpments, he saw the
lower country hc.vund this, vast and
dear ns it lay in bis sight, was the
great river that made the I'.ig Bond.
He rounded a jutting corner, where
view had be^n shut off, and presently
came out upon the rim of a high wall.
Beneath, like a green gulf seen
lirougb blue haze, lay an amphitheater
walled in on the two sides he could
see. It lay perhaps a thousand feet
below him : and. plain as all the other
features of that wild environment,
there shone out a big red stone or
adobe cabin, white water shining
away between borders, and horses
and cattle dotting the levels. It was ,
a peaceful, beautiful scene. Duane
could not help grinding bis teeth at
the thought of rustlers living in quiet
ami ease.
Duane worked half-way down to
the level, and, well hidden in a niche,
lie seated himself to watch both trail
and valley.
The sun went down behind the
wall, and shadows wore born in the
darker places of the valley. Duane
began to want to get closer to that (
cabin. Still lie lingered. And sudden
ly ltis wide-roving eye caught sight of
two horsemen riding up the valley. (
They must have < ntered at a point
below, round the huge abutment of
rock, beyond Dunne's range of sight.
Their horses were tired and stopped
at the stream for a loug drink.
Duane left his porch, took to the
stoop trail. and descended as fast as
h» could without making noise. It
did mu take him long to reach the
valley Moor. It was almost level,
with deep grass, and hero and tiiore !
clumps of hushes. Twilight was al
ready thick down there. Duane
marked the location of the trnil, ami
then began to slip like a shadow
through the grass and from hush to
bush. lie saw a bright light before ho
made out the dark outline of tin*
cabin. Then ho hoard voices, a merry
whistle, a coarse song, and the clink
of iron cooking utensils. Ho smelled
fragrant wood smoke, lie saw mov
ing dark figures cross the light. Evi
dently there was a wide door, or else
the tire was out In the open.
Duane swerved to the left, out of
direel line with (he light, and thus was
able to see better. Then he advanced
noiselessly lull swiftly toward the hack
of tile house. There were trees close
to the wall. He would make no noise,
and he could scarcely he seen—if only
there was no watchdog! But all his
outlaw days ho had taken risks with
only his useless life at stake; now.
with that changed, he advanced,
stealthy and bold as an Indian. He
reached the cover of the trees, knew
he was hidden In their shadows, for
at few paces' distance he had been
ably U> si# auli' their tojjs. Emm.
there he slipped up to the house and
fell along the wall witli his hands,
lie eame to a little window where
Ugh! shone through. He peeped in.
lie saw a room shrouded in shadows,
•a lamp turned low, u tattle, eliairs.
lie saw sin open door, with bright flare
beyond, bill could not see the tire.
Voices came indistinctly, lie went on
round that end of the cabin. Fortune
favored him. There were hushes, an
old shed, a wood-pile, all the cover
lie needed at that corner, lie did not
even need to crawl.
Before he peered between the rough
corner of wall and the bush growing
close lo it. ltuatie paused a moment.
This excitement wus different from
fha' lie had always felt when pursue ’
It had no bitterness, ic> pain, no dpi'
There was as much dancer 1. re, p
hups more, yet it was not the same.
Then he looked.
lh‘ saw a bright fire, a red-faced
man bending over it, whistling, while
he handled a steaming pot. Over him
was a roofed shed Built against the
wall, with two open sides and two
supporting posts. Duane’s second
glance, not so blinded by the sudden
bright light, trade out other men,
three in the shadow, two in tlie flare,
but with hacks to him.
“It’s a smoother trail bv long odds,
hut ain’t so short as this one right
over the mountain,” one outlaw was
saying.
“What’s oat in’ you. Panhandle?”
ejaculated another “Blossom an’ me
rode from Faraway Springs, where
I’oggln is with some of the gang.”
“Excuse me, Phil. Shore 1 didn’t
see you come In, an' P.oldt never said
nothin’.”
“it took you a long time to get here,
hut T guess that's jus| as well,” spoke
up a smooth, suave voice with a ring
in it.
voice — Choseldine’s
Longs troth’s
voice!
Here they were—Pheseldine, F’iii!
Knell, Klossom Kano, Panhandle
Smith. I’.nldt—how well I*mme remem
bered the names!—all here, the big
men of Chesoldine’s gang, except the
biggest—I’oggin. Duane had holed
them, and his sensations of the mo
ment deadened sight and sound of
what was before him. He sank down,
controlling himself, silenced a mount
ing exultation, then from a less strain
ed position he peered forlh again.
The outlaws were waiting for sup
per. Their conversation might have
been that of cowboys in camp, ranch
ers at a round-up. Knell sat there,
tall, slim, like a bov in years, with his
pale, smooth, expressionless face and
cold, gray eyes. And T.ongstreth, who
leaned against the wall, handsome,
with his dark face and beard like an
aristocrat, resembled many a rich
Louisiana planter Duane had met.
Panhandle Smith carried pots and
pans into the cabin, and cheerfully
called out: “If you gents air hungry
fer grub, don’t look fer me to feed
you with a spoon.” •
The outlaws piled inside, made a
great bustle and clatter as they sat
to their meal. Like hungry men, they
talked little.
Duane waited there for a while, then
guardedly got up and crept round to
the other side of the cabin, After he
became list'd to the dark again he
ventured to steal along the wall to the
window and peeped in. The outlaws
were in the first room and could not :
be seen.
Dunne waited. The moments j
dragged endlessly. His heart pound
ed. Longstreth entered, turned up the
light, and taking a box of cigars front
the table, he carried it out.
“Hero, you fellows, go outside and
smoke,” he said. “Knell, come in
now. Let’s get It over.”
tie returned, sat down, and lighted
a cigar for himself. He put his hoot
ed feet on the table.
Duane saw that the room was com
fortably, even luxuriously furnished.
There must have been a good trail,
he thought, else how could all that
stuff have been packed in there. Then
Knell came in and seated himself
without any of his chief’s ease. He
seemed preoccupied and, as always,
cold.
“What’s wrong:. Knoll? Why didn’t
you Rot hore sooner?” Queried Long- i
stroth.
“Poggin : Wo’ro on tho nuts ngrain.”
“What for? Got it out of your sys
tem so wo can go on to tho now job.”
“Well, it began hark a ways. 1
don't know bow long ago—weeks—a !
stranger rode* into Ord an’ got down
easy-like as if ho owned the place.
Ho seemed familiar to me. But I
wasn’t sure. Wo looked him over, an’
I left, tryin’ to place him in my mind."
“What ’d ho look like?”
“Rangy, powerful man, white hair
over liis temples, still, hard face,
eyes like knives. The way he packed
his guns, tho way ho walked an’ stood
an’ swung his right hand showed me
what he was. Ton can’t fool me on
the gun-sharp. An’ ho bad a grand
horse, a big black.”
“I’ve met your man,” said Long
stroth.
“No!” exclaimed Knell. Tt was
wonderful to hoar surprise expressed
by this man that did not in the least
show it in his strange physiognomy.
Knell laughed a short, grim, hollow
laugh. “Boss, this hore big gent drifts
into Ord again an’ makes up to .Titn
Fletcher. Jim—he up an’ takes this
stranger to be the fly road-agent an’
cottons to him. Got money out of him
sure. And that's what stumps me
more. What’s this man’s game? 1 hap
pen to know, boss, that he couldn’t
have hold up No. 6.”
“How do you know?” demanded
Longstroth.
“Because I did the job myself."
A dark and stormy passion clouded
the chief's face.
"J£nell. you're incorrigible. You’re
unreliable. Another break like that
queers you with me. Did you tell
I’oggin?”
“Yes. Thet’s one reason we fell
i out. lie raved. T thought he was
: goin’ to kill toe.” Several of the boys
rode over from Ord. an’ one of them
went to l’oggin an’ says Jim Fletcher
has a new man for the gang. Jim an'
l’oggin always hit it up together. So
until I got on the deal Jim’s pard
was already in the gang, without
Hoggin or you ever seein’ him. Then
I got to figurin’ hard. Just where I
ever seen that chap? I dug up a lot
of old papers from my kit an’ went
over them. Letters, pictures, clip
pin’s. an’ all that. I guess I had a
pretty good notion what I was lookin’
for an’ who T wanted to make sure of.
At hist I found it. An' I knew my
man. Hut I didn't spring it on I’oggin.
1 sent Blossom over to Ord with a
message calculated to make Jim hump.
I’oggin got sore, said he’d wait for
Jim, an’ I could come over here to
see you about the new job. He’d
meet me in Ord.”
Knell had spoken hurriedly and low,
now and then with passion. His pale
eyes glinted like fire in Ice, and now
his voiqe fell to a whisper.
“Who do you think Fletcher’s new
man is?”
“Who?" demanded Longstreth.
“Buck Duane!”
Down came T.ongstreth’s boots with
a crash, then his body grew rigid.
“That Nueces outlaw? That two
shot ace-of-spades gun-thrower who
killed Bland, Allnway—?" with more
feeling than t lie apparent circum
stance demanded.
“Yes; and Hardin, the best one of
the Ilim Rock fellows—Buck Duane!”
Longstreth was so ghastly white
now that his black mustache seemed
outlined against chalk. He eyed his
grim lieutenant. They understood
each other without more words. It
was enough that Buck Duane was
there in the Big Bend. Longstreth
rose presently and reached for a flask,
from which he drank, then offered it
to Knell. He waved it aside.
“Knell.” began the chief, slowly, ns
he wiped his lips, “I gathered you
have some grudge against this Buck
Duane.”
“Yes.”
“Well, don't be a -fool now and
(lo what Poggin or almost any of you
men would—don’t meet this Buck
Duane. I’ve reason to believe lie’s a
Texas Ranger now.”
“The hell you say 1” exclaimed
Knell.
“Yes. Go to Ord and give Jim
Fletcher a hunch. He’ll get Poggin,
and they’ll tlx even Reek Duane.”
“All right. I'll do my best. But if
I run into Duane—”
“Don’t run into him!” Rongstreth’s
voice fairly rang with the force of
its passion and command. He wiped
his face, drank again from the flask,
sat down, resumed his smoking, and,
drawing a paper from his vest pocket,
; he began to study it.
“VVe’ll I’m glad that’s settled,” he
said, evidently referring to the Duane
matter. "Now for the new job. This
is October the eighteenth. On or be
fore the twenty-fifth there will be a
shipment of gold reach the Rancher’s
Bank of Val Verde. After you return
to Ord give Poggin these orders. Keep
the gang quiet. You. Poggin, Kane.
Fletcher, Panhandle Smith, and Boldt
to be in on the secret and the job. No
body else. You’ll leave Ord on the
twenty-third, ride crosscountry by the
trail till you get within sight of Mer
cer. It’s a hundred miles from Brad
ford to Val Verde--about the same
from Ord. Time your travel to get
you near Val Verde on the morning
of the twenty-sixth. You won’t have
to more than trot your horses. At
two o’clock in the afternoon, sharp,
ride into town and up to the Ranch
er’s Bank. Val Verde's a pretty big
town. Never been any hold-ups there.
Town feels safe. Make it a clean,
fast, daylight job. That’s all. Have
you got the details?”
Knell did not even ask for the dates
again.
“Suppose Poggin or me might be
detained?” he asked.
Longstreth bent a dark glance upon
ills lieutenant.
“You never can tell what ’ll come
off," continued Knell. “I’ll do my
best.”
CHAPTER XXIV.
Like a swift shadow and as noise
loss Iniane stole across the level
toward the dark wall of rock. Every
nerve was a strung wire. For a little
while his mind was cluttered and
clogged with whirling thoughts, front
which, like a flashing scroll, unrolled
the long, buttling order of action. The
game was now in his hands. He must
cross Mount Ord at night. The feat
was improbable, but it might be done.
He must ride into Bradford, forty
miles from the foothills, before eight
o'clock next morning. He must tele
graph MacNelly to be in Val Verde
on the twenty-flfth. He must ride
back to Ord to intercept Knell, face
him, and while the iron was hot strike
hard to win Toggle's half-won interest
as he had wholly won Fletcher's.
Failing that last, lie must let the out
laws alone to bide their time in Ord,
to be free to ride to their new job
in Val Verde. In the meantime he
must plan to arrest Longstreth. It
was a magnificent outline, incredible,
alluring, unfathomable in its nameless
certainty. lie felt like fate. He
seemed to be the iron conserptences
failing upon these doomed outlaws.
Fnder the wall the shadows were
black, only the tips of trees and crags
showing, yet lie went straight to the
trail. It was merely a gra.vness he
i tweeu borders of black, lie cUmb»d 1
anTI never stopped. IT did not 'Beem
steep. His feet might have had eyes,
lie surmounted the wall, and, looking
down into the ebony gulf pierced by
one point of light, he lifted a menac
ing arm and shook it. Then he strode
on. and did not falter till he reached
the huge shelving cliffs. Here he lost
the trail; there was none; hut he re
membered the shapes, the points, the
notches of rock above. Before he
reached the ruins of splintered ram
parts and Jumbles of broken walls the
moon topped the eastern slope of the
mountain, and the mystifying black
ness he had dreaded chnnged to magic
silver light. It seemed as light as day.
only soft, mellow, nnd the air held a
transparent sheen. He ran up the hare
ridges and down the smooth slopes,
hnd, like a goat, Jumped from rock to
rock. In this light he knew his way.
and lost no time looking for a trail.
He crossed the divide, nnd then had
all downhill before him. Swiftly he
descended, almost always sure of his
memory of the landmarks. He did not
remember having studied them in the
ascent, yet here they were, even in
changed light, familiar to his sight.
What he had once seen was pictured
on his mind. And, true ns a deer
striking for home, he reached the can
yon where he had left his horse. Bul
let was quickly nnd easily found.
Liunue threw on the saddle and pack,
cinched them tight, and resumed the
descent.
Hours passed as moments. Duane
wns equal to his great opportunity.
But he could not quell that self Ira
him which reached back over the
lapse of lonely, searing years and
found the boy In him. Duane knew
he was not Just right In part of his
mind. Small wonder that he was not
Insane, he thought! He tramped ora
downward, his marvelous faculty
for covering rough ground and!
holding to the true course
never before even in flight so*
keen and acute. Yet all the time *
spirit was keeping step with him..
Thought of Ita.v Longstreth as he
had left her made him weak. He'
saw her white face, with Its sweet
sad lips and the dark eyes so tender
and tragic.
The moon sloped to the west. Shad
ows of trees and crags now crossed:
to the other side of him. The stars:
dimmed. Then he was out of the rocks,,
with the dim trull pale at his feet..
Mounting Bullet, he made short work;
of the long slope and the foothills andi
the rolling land leading down to Ord.-i
The little outlaw camp, with Its:
“•hacks and cabins and row of houses,,
lay silent and dark under the paling
moon. Duane passed by on the lower
(roil, headed into the road, nnd put
Bullet to a gallop. He watched the
dying moon, the waning stars, and the*
east. He had time to spare, so
saved the horse. Knell would he leav
ing the rendezvous about the time
Duane turned back toward Ord. Be
tween noon and sunset they would
meet.
The night wore on. The muon
behind low mountains in the wes'/. ’nu?
stars brightened for it whl'.e. then
faded. Gray gloom erm'.opcd the
world, thickened, lay like smoke over
the road. Then shnd^ by shade it
lightened, until through the transpar
ent obscurity shone a dim light.
Duane reached Bradford be.ft.rr
dawn, lie dismounted some distance
from the tracks, tied his itnrse, and
then crossed over to the station. He
heard the clicking of the telegraph
instrument, and it thrilled him. An.
operator sat inside reading. When.
Dunne tapped on the window he look
ed up with startled glance, then went
swiftly to unlock the door.
“Hello. Give me paper and pencil..
Quick," whispered Duane.
With trembling handii the operator*
complied. Duane wrote out the mes
sage he hud careful].; composed.
“Send this—repeat it to make sure—
then keep moifi. I'll see you again,.
Good-by."
The operator stared, but did not
speak a word.
Duane left as stealthily and swiftly
as he had come. lit- walked ills horse
a couple of miles back on the road‘
and then rested hint till break of day..
• *•••••
(Continued i<ext WeekTj ’
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