AROMA/NCC or TrtE BORDER
PfrZANL GREY
AUTHOR OF
‘‘THE LIGHT OF- WESTERN
STARS"
"RIDERS OF THE PURPLE
SAGE", ETC.
COmiGHT. (f hARFE* AfJDJKCTHtKS
SYNOPSIS.
CTTA PTER T—In Wellston, Tom** It
k- • -mes with Buckley Imam* a rui- of
;! nr run from Cal Bain. I >uane kills
r >on and becomes an outlaw.
1 I ■ ' II—He meets Luke Stev
i i outlaw.
'’if M’TPIR TII—Stevens goes into the
(i of Mercer to buy suuplies arid is
ot by a rancher. Duane buries !^:n
' H \PTER TV—Duane goes to Bland’s
fc n> "\v stronghold in the Kim Ro< k and
■ r shooting Bosomer, who quarrels
with him over Stevens’ death, derid s
to stay there. Euchre takes Imam !'<*-•
a partner and tells him about Bland
the outlaw’ chief rid his band.
CHAPTER V—Duane practices cun
throwing and hears more about Bland
and his gang.
CHAPTER VT—Euchre and Duane
call on Kate. Bland's wife, and Jennie
a girl whom Benson kidnaped and dd
to Bland.
CHAPTER VTT—Euchre and Duane
conspire to take Jennie away. Duano
prevents a wanton murder.
CHAPTER VITT Mrs. Bland makes
love to Duane and he u - her to fur
ther bis plans. Bland returns from a
trip. He asks Duane to join the baud
He is jealous of Duane and abuses Kate
and Jennie.
CHAPTER TX—Euchre kills Benson,
is killed by Alio way. Duane kills Allo
wav and Bland and eseap s. wonim* <1.
wdth Jennie. In a desert'd but in tie*
mesquite Jennie nurses him.
CHAPTER X—When Duane b strong
enpugh they travel out of the Him Ro« k
to a rancher’s house, when Dunn* re
covers On their way to Sholb.vvilb*
Jennie is carried off by outlaws while
Duane Is away looking for a strayed
CHAPTER XT—After vnln .h r»r
Jennie, whose ab«lnctor he kill-. Hum
leads the lone-wolf 1 if• for no" It;
three years, finally ectting a in<-"a c
from Captain MeNelly of tin rangers
asking him to come to the captain's
camp after dark.
CHAPTER XTT—The message Is sev
eral times repented. Duane Is chased by
a lynching party.
CHAPTER XIII—A price on his lo ad
and accused of murdering ;t woman.
Duane rides into Shirley to denv the
murder. After a narrow escape from
lynching, he proves his Innocence and is
allowed to go.
CHAPTER XTV—He goes to McNally's
ranger camp. MeNelly offers hint par
don and social restoration if he v 'll
become a ranger ami than *oi tt 1
Cheaeldine gang in the Big Lb nd coun
try
CHAPTER XV—Buck Duane rang, r
strikes the Rig Rend country and I"
gins work, cheseldine a in' ’ v a
power and a horror to the country.
CHAPTER XVI Colonel I ■ ncstrrC 's
daughter Ray. and her cousin. Ruth
Herbert, are held up Duane 'hoots
one of the robbers, hut is puzzled bv
the colonel's conduct.
“It happened at the town hull," be
gan Lawson, rapidly. “Your father
and Judge Owens and I wore there
In consultation with three ranchers
from out of town. Then that damned
ranger stalked in dragging Snooker,
the fellow who hid here in the house,
lie had arrested Sneeker for alleged
assault on a restaurant-keeper named
I-a ramie. Sneeker bring obviously in
nocent, he was discharged. Then tius
ranger began shouting Insults. Law
was a farce in Fairdale. The court
was a farce. There was no law. Your
fiither was afraid of the rustlers,
highwaymen, murderers. ITe was
afraid or—he just let them alone, lie
used his ofllee to cheat ranchers and
cattlemen in lawsuits. All this the
ranger yelled for everyone to hear.
A damnable outrage. Y'oitr father,
Itny, insulted In his own court by a
rowdy ranger!"
“Oh!” cried Rny Longstreth, In
mingled distress nnd anger.
“The ranger service wants to rule
western Texas,” went on Lawson.
“These rangers are all a low set.
This Is one of the worst of the lot.
He’s to he feared, lie would kill. If
your father had made the least move
lie would have shot him. lie’s a
cold-nerved devil—the born gunman.
My Ood, any Instant I expected to
see your father fall dead at my feet!”
“Oh, Floyd! The unspeakable
ruffian!” cried Ilay Longstreth, pas
sionately.
“What do you care for the insinua
tions of such a man?” said Kay Long
Rfreth, her voice now deep and rieh
with feeling. "After a moment's
thought no one will he Influenced b\
them. Do not worry. Floyd. Tell
papa not to worry. Surely after all
these years he can’t he injured in
reputation by—by an adventurer."
“Yes, he can be Injured," replied
Floyd, quickly. “The frontier is a
queer place. There are many hitter
men here-—men who have failed at
ranching. And your father has been
wonderfully successful. The ranger
has dropped poison, and it 11 spread.
CHAPTER XIX.
Strangers rode into Fairdnle; and
other hard-looking customers, new to
Duane if not to Falrdale. biped to
create a charged and waiting atmos
phere. The saloons did unusual busi
ness and were never closed. Respect
able citizens of the town were awuk
fucd in the curly dawn ly rowdies
carousing ih the streets.
Dim no kept pretty close untlcr
Cover during the day. He did not
entertain the opinion that rite first
time lit* walked down-street lie would
tie a target for g ins. Things seldom
happened that way; and when they
did happen so. it was more accident
than design. But at night 1c* was not
idle. He met I.aramie, Morton. Zim
mer and others of like character: a
secret eltih had been formed : and all
the members were ready for action.
1 inane spent hours at night watching
the house where Lloyd I.awson staved
when he was not up at T.ongstn th's.
At trglit he was visited, or at least
the house was. by strange men who
were -swift, stealthy, mysterious all
that kindl.i disposed friends or neigh
bors would not have been. Duane
had not Peon able to recognize any of
these night visitors: and he did not
think the time was ripe for a hold
holding up of one of them. Nt vertlio
less, he was sure such an event would
diseovi«r Lawson, or someone In that
house, to be in touch with crooked
men.
Laramie was right. Not twenty
four hour - after his tai'c with Duane,
in which he advised quick action, in*
wss found behind the little liar of his
restaurant with a bullet-ln le in Ids
breast, dead. No one could lie found
who had hoard a shot, it had been
deliberate murder, for upon the bar
bad been left a piece of paper rudely
scrawled witb a pencil: "All friends
of rangers look for the same.”
ulus named |iiii>np. 111*5 first move,
however, was to bury Laramie, None
of Laramie's neighbors evinced any in
terest in ttio dead man or (he unfor
tunate family lie had left. Duane saw
that lliese neighbors were held in
cheek by fear. Mrs. Laramie was 111:
tlie shock of her husband's death was
hard on tier; and she had been left
almost destitute with five children.
Duane rented an adobe house on the
outskirts of town and moved the
family Into it. Then In* played the
part of provider and nurse and
friend.
After several days Duane went
boldly into town and “bowed that lie
meant business. It was Ids opinion
that there were men in lnirdale
secretly triad of a ran lot's presence.
What he intended to do was food for
"rent speculation. A company of
militia could not have had the effect
upon the wild element of Falrdale
that Duane's presence had It got
out that he- was a gunman lightning
swift on tlie draw. It was death to
face him. lie had killed thirty men—
wildest rumor of all. It was actually
aid of him he had the gun-skill of
Luck Duane or I’opgin.
At first there had not only been
great conjecture among the vicious
element, hut also a very decided
•becking of nil kinds of action cal
culated to he conspicuous to a keen
eyed ranger. At the tables, at the
liars and lottnying-places Duane heard
the remarks; "Who's that ranger
■ i fter? What '11 he do fnst off? Is
he waitin’ for somebody? Who's goin’
to draw on him fnst—an’ go to hell?
b st about how soon will he be found
sotnewheres full of load?”
When It curap mu somownore imu
Puano wiis cultivating flu* Inmost
stn.v-nt-home citizens to array thorn in
time against tho othor element, thou
Fairdalo showed its wolf tooth.
Sovornl times Duane was sliot at in
tho dark ami onoo slightly injured.
Rumor had it that I'oggin. tho gun
man, was coming to moot him. But
the lawless oloniont did not rise tip
in a mass to slay Dunne on sight,
it was not so much that tho enemies
of the law awaited his next move,
hut just a slowness peculiar to tho
frontier. There was a Hide kind of
■xood humor even in their" open
hostility.
Besides, one ranger or a company
of rangers could not have hold the
undivided attention of those men from
their games and drinks and quarrels
except by some decided move. Kx
ciloment, greed, appetite were rife in
lhem. Duane marked, however, a
striking exception to the usual run
of strangers ho had been in the habit
of seeing. Snooker had gone or was
under cover. Again Duane caught a
vague rumor of the coming of l’oggin,
yet he never seemed to arrive. More
over the goings-on among the
habitues of the resorts and cowboys
who came In to drink and gamble
were unusually mild in comparison
with former conduct. This lull, how
ever. did not deceive Duane, it could
not last. Tho wonder was that it
had lasted so lone.
Duane went often to see Mrs. Lara
mie and h<w children. One afternoon
while In' was there he saw >INs l.ong
strctli and Uulh ride up to the door.
They ciuTiml a basket. Evidently
they had heard uf Mrs. IjraiJlie's
trouble. Duane fell strangely glad,
but he went into an adjoining i\mm
rather Ilian moot them.
“Mrs. I.arnmh', T’ve come to sop
you," said Miss I,ongsl roMi, eheor
fillly.
Tin' little* rtoin rrs not very light,
thorp lioilu. on!; one window and tlie
doors. I,m Pun, o rould soo plainly
0 mngli. Mr-, l.araniio lay. hollovv
1 I, iked and haggard, on a bod. Oncp
slip had i ideally boon a woman of
Miino comeliness. Tin1 ravages of
trouble and grief wore there to rend
in her worn fare; it had not. ho.vever.
any of the hard and hitler lines that
liad characterized her husband's.
Dunne wondered, considering that
Longstreth had ruined Laramie, how
Mrs. Laramie was going to regard the
i tighter of ati enemy.
‘‘So you're Granger I.ongstreth’s
girl?” queried the woman, with her
bright, black eyes Used on her visitor.
"Vos,” replied Miss Longstreth,
simply. ‘‘This Is my cousin, ltuth
Herbert. We've eonte to nurse yen.
take rare of the chlldroli, help you in
any way you'll let us.”
There was a Iona silence.
‘‘Well, you look a little like Long
streth." finally said Mrs. Laramie,
“but you're not at all like him. You
must take after your mother. Miss
Longstreth. I don't know if 1 ear*— if
i ought to nceept anything from you.
Your father ruined my husband.”
“Yes. I know." replied the girl sad
ly. “That - tdl the more reason yo.i
should h't me help you. i’rny don’t
refuse. It will—mean much to me.”
If this prior, stricken woman had
any resentment it speedily melted in
the warmth and sweetness of Miss
Longst I , ; it's manner, and no sooner
had site begun to talk to the children
than both they and the mother were
won. The opening of that big basket
was an event. Hour, starved little
beggars! The hnvoe was wrought in
that household. The needs now were
cheerfulness kindness, help, action—
and these the girls frirni'lied with a
spirit that did I ntatie good.
“Mrs. Laramie, who dressed fills
baby?" pres, nth asked Miss Long
si n th. I mane peeped in to see a
dilapidated youngster on her knee.
That sight, if any other was needed,
completed the full and splendid es
timate of Lay Longstreth and wrought
strangely upon his heart.
“The ranger.” n plied Mrs. Laramie.
“The ranger!" exolnimod Miss Long
streth.
"ies. iii*s taken euro of ns all since
—since—" Mrs. Laramie choked.
“< )h! So you've had no help hut
his,” replied .Miss l.ongstreth, hastily.
“No \voin<*n. Too had. I'll send
someone. Mrs. Laramie, and I'll come
myself.”
“it 'll he good of you,” went on
the older woman. “Von see, Jim had
few friends—that is, rijrljt. in town.
And they've been afraid to help us—
afraid they'd tret what poor Jim—”
‘■That's awful!” hurst out Miss
!.omrstreth. passionately. “A brave
lot of friends! Mrs. Laramie, don't
you worry any more. We'll take care
i f jolt. Hi re. Until help me. What
ever is tin mu iter with baity's dress?"
Manifestly Miss l.ongstreth had
some dillieulty in subduing her emo
tion.
"Why. it's on himl side before,” de
einred Ruth. “I guess Mr. Ranger
hasn't dressed many babies.”
“lit* did the best he could," said
Mrs. Laramie. “Lord only knows
wluit would have become of us!”
“Then lie is—is something more
than a ranger?” queried Miss Long
strelli, with a little break in her
voice.
“lie's more than I can tell,” replied
Mrs. Laramie, "lie Imried Jim. He
paid our debts. He fetched us here,
lie bought food for us. He cooked for
us and fed us. He washed ami dress
ed the baby, lie sat with me the
first two nights after Jim's dentil,
when I thought I’d die myself, lie’s
so kind, so gentle, so patient. He has
kept me up just by being near. Some
times I'd wake from a doze, tin’, see
ing him there, I'd know how false
were nil these tales Jit.i heard about
him and believed at lirst. Why, he
plays, with the children just—just
like any good man might. When lie
lias the baby up I just ean’t believe
lie's a bloody gunman, as they say.
He’s good, but lie isn't happy. He
has such sad eyes. He looks far of?
sometimes when the children climb
round him. They love him. His life
is sail. Nobody need loll me—lie sees
r
flic pood in things. Once lie said some
body hnd to be a ranger. Well. I say,
‘Thank God for a ranger like him!’”
Duane did not want to bear more,
so he walked into tlie room.
“it ons thought flit of you.” Duane
said. “Womankind are needed here.
I could do so little. Mrs. Laramie,
you look better already. I'm glad.
And lu re's baby all clean and white.
Dairy, wliat a time I had trying to
puzzle out the way your clothes went
on! Well. Mrs. Laramie, didn’t 1 tell
you—friends would eoine? So will
the brighter side.”
“Vi s. I've more faith than I had,”
replied Mrs. Laramie. “Granger
Lnngstreth's daughter lias come to me.
There for n while after Jim's death
1 thought I'd sink. W. have nothing.
How could I ever take .-are of my
little ones? But I'm gaining ee .rage
to—”
“Mrs. Laramie, do not distress your
self any more,” said Miss Longstretji,
“I shall see you are well eared for.
I promise you.”
“Miss Longstreth, that’s fine!" ex
claimed Duane, “it's what I've i x
pected of you.”
It must have been sweet praise to
her. for the whiteness of her face
burned out in a beautiful blush.
“And it's good of you, too. Miss
Herbert, to come," added Duane.
“Let me thank you both. I'm glad
I have you girls as allies in part of
my lonely task here. More than glad
for the sake of this good woman and
the little ones. But both of you lie
careful about coming here alone.
There's ri#k. And now I’ll he going.
Good-by, Mrs. Laramie. I'll drop in
again to-night. Good-by.”
“Mr. Hunger, wait!" culled Miss
Longstreth us he went out. Sin* was
white and wonderful. She stepped
out of the door close to him.
“I have wronged you!” she said, Im
pulsively,
.'liss i,ongstreth! How can y i
say that?” lio returned.
‘‘I believed what my father an 1
Floyd I.awsoa said about you. Now
I See—I wronged you.”
"You make me very glad. Rut,
Miss 1.ongstreth, {dense don't speak
of wronging me. I have been a—a
gunman, I am it nailer -and imieli
said of me is true. My duty is hard
on others—sometimes on those who
are innocent, alas' Rut God knows
that duty is hard, too, on me.”
“I did wrong you. If you entered
my home again 1 would think it an
honor. I—”
“Please—please don't. Mi ;s Long
stretli,” intermitted Duane.
"Rut, sir, my conscience flays me,”
site went on. There was no other
sound like her voice. “Will you take
my hand? Will you forgive me?"
She gave it royally, while the other
was there pressing at her breast.
Duane took the proffered hand. He
did not know what else to do.
Then it seemed to dawn upon him
that there was more behind this white,
sweet, noble intensity of her than
just tlie making amends for a fancied
or red wrong. Duane thought the
man did not live on earth who could
have resisted Iter then.
‘‘I honor you for your goodness to
this unfortunate woman,” site said,
and now her speech came swiftly.
‘‘When she was ail alone and help
loss you were her friend. It was the
deed of a man. Rut Mrs. Laramie
isn't the only tfortunate woman in
tlie world. I. too. am unfortunate.
Ah. how I may soon need a friend!
Will you be m.v friend? I'm so alone.
I'm terribly worried. I fear—I fear—
Oh, surely I'll need a friend soon—
soon. Oh. I’m afraid of what you'll
find out sooner or later. I want to help
you. Let us save life if not honor.
Must I stand alone—till alone? Will
you—will you be—” ller voice failed.
It seemed to Duane that she must
have discovered what he had begun
to suspect—that lior father and Law
son were not the honest ranchers
they pretended to be. I’orhaps she
knew more' Her appeal to Duane
shook him deeply, lie wanted to help
her more than lie had ever wanted
anything. And witli the meaning of
the tumultuous sweetness she stirred
in him there came the realization of
a dangerous situation.
“I must lie true to my duty, he
said, hoarsely.
“If you knew me you’d know 1
could never ask you to he false to it."
“Well, then—I'll do anything for
you.”
“Oh, thank you! I'm ashamed that
I believed my cousin Floyd! He lied
—he lied. I’m ail in the dark,
strangely distressed. My father wants
me to go back home. Floyd is trying
to keep me here. They've quarreled.
Oh. 1 know something dreadful will
happen. 1 know I'll need you if—if—
Will you help me?”
“Yes,” replied Ituane. and his look
brought the blood to her face.
CHAPTER XX.
After supper Duane stole out for
his usual evening’s spying at Long
streth’s ranch-house. When he reach
ed the edge of the shrubbery be saw
Longstreth’s door open. Hashing a
broad bar of light in the darkness.
Lawson crossed the threshold, the
door closed, and all was dark again
outside. Not a ray of light escaped
from the window. Duane tiptoed to
the door and listened, but could hear
only a mariner of voices. Resides,
that position was too risky. He went
round the corner of the house.
This side of the big adobe house
was of much older const ruction than
the back of the larger part. There
was a narrow passage between the
houses, leading from the outside
through to the patio.
This r—ss""i». now afford"'1. Pqane
nil opportunity. nn<l In* decided to J
avail himself of it in spite of the
very great (lunger. Crawling on very
stealthily, he got under the shrubbery I
to the entrance of the passage. In
the blackness n faint streak of light
showed the location of n crack in
1 he wall. He had to slip in sidewise.
It was a light squeeze, hut he entered
without the slightest noise. When he
got there the crack he had marked
was a foot over his head. There was
nothing to do but find toe-holds in
the crumbling wails, and by bracing
knees on one side, hack ngnlnst the
other, hold himself up. Onee with
his eye there he did not care what
risk lie ran. Longstreth appeared dis
turbed; in* sat stroking his mustache;
hi* brow was clouded. Lawson’s face
seemed darker, more sullen, yet light
ed hv some indomitable resolve.
“We’ll settle both deals to-night,”
I.awson was saying. “Thai s what 1
come for.”
' Kut suppose I don't choose to tuik
here?" protested Longstreth, impa
tiently.
“You’ve lost your nerve since that
ranger hit the town. First now, will
you give Hay to me?”
“Floyd, you talk like a spoiled boy.
I tried to persuade her. But Kay
hasn't any use for you now. So what
can I do?”
“You can make her marry me,” re
plied Lawson.
"Make that girl do what she doesn’t
want to? it couldn’t be done. But if
Kay loved you I would consent. We’d
uli go away together before this mis
erable business is out. Then she’d
never know. And umybe you might
1 - more like you used to he before
tlie West ruined you.”
“What hi you want to let her come
out here for?” demanded Lawson,
hotly, “it was a dead mistake. I’ve
“It Was a Dead Mistake."
lo*t my head over lier. I’ll have her
or die. No, Longs troth, we’ve got to
settle things to-night.”
“Well, we can settle what Ray’s
concerned in, right now,” replied
Longstretfi, rising. “Come on; we’ll
ask her. See where you stand.”
They went out leaving the door
open. Dunne dropped down to rest
himself and to wait.
The men seemed to be absent a good
while, though that feeling might have
been occasioned by Duane's thrilling
interest and anxiety. Finally he
heard heavy steps. Lawson came in
alone. Lie was leaden-faced, humili
ated. Then something abject in him
gave place to rage. He strode the
room; he cursed. Then Longstretli
returned, now appreciably calmer.
Duane could not but decide that he
felt relief at the evident rejection of
Lawson’s proposal.
I uni t tuss about it. Floyd, he
said. “You see I can’t help it. We’re
pretty wild out here, but I can’t rope
my dnufjhter and give her to you as
1 would an unruly steer.”
“Longstreth, 1 can make her marry
me,” declared Lawson, thickly.
“How?”
“You know the hold I got on you—
the deal thnt made you boss of this
rustler gang?”
“It isn’t likely I’d forget,” replied
I.ongstreth, grimly.
“I can go to Hay. tell her that, make
her believe I’d tell it broadcast—tell
this ranger—unless she'd marry me.”
Lawson spoke breathlessly, with
haggard face aud shadowed eyes. He
had no shame. He was simply in the
grip of passion.
Lougstreth gazed with dark, con
trolled fury at this relative. In that
look Dunne saw a strong, unscrupu
lous man fallen into evil ways, but 1
still a man. It betrayed Lawson to
be the wild and passionate weakling.
Like the great majority of evil and
unrestrained men on the border, he
had reached a point where influence
was futile. Reason hail degenerated.
He saw only himself.
“Rut, Floyd, Ray’s the one person
on earth who must never know I’m
a rustler, a thief, a red-handed ruler
of the worst gang of robbers," replied
I.ongstreth, impressively.
Floyd bowed his head at that, as
if the significance had Just occurred
to him. Rut be was not long at a loss.
“She’s going to find it out sooner
or later. I tell yon she knows now
there's something wrong out here.
She's got eyes. Mark what I say.”
“Ray has changed. I know. Rut
she hasn't any idea yet that her
daddy’s n [toss fustier. Ray’s con
eerned abftut what she calls my duty
as mayor. Also I think she's not sat
isfied with my explanations in regard
to certain property.”
Lawson halted In his restless walk
and leaned against the stone mantel
piece. He hnd his hnnds In his pock
ets. He squared himself as If this
was his last stand. He looked desper
ate, hut on the moment showed an
absence of his usual nervous excite
ment.
"Longstreth, that may well be true,”
be said. “No doubt all you sny Is
true. But it doesn't help me. I wnnt
the girl. If I don’t get her—I reckon
we’ll all go to hell 1”
Longstreth gave a slight start,
barely perceptible, like the switch of
an awakening tiger. He sat there head
down, stroking his mustache. Dunne’s
conviction was that Longstreth right
then and there decided that the thing
to do was to kill Lawson.
Lawson no more caught the fateful
significance of a line crossed, a limit
reached, a decree decided than u >.
had not been present. H 1 was
obsessed with himself. How, Duane
wondered, had a man of his mind ever
lived so long Hnd gone so far among
the exacting conditions of the South
west? The answer was, perhaps,
that Longstreth hnd guided him, up
held him, protected him. The com
ing of Ray Longstreth bad beeu the
entering-wedge of dissension.
“You’re too impatient,” said Long
streth. “Ray might be won. She
might marry you to save tne, but she’d
hate you. That Isn’t the way. Wait.
Play for time. Let’s plan to sell out
here—stock, ranch, property—and
leave the country. Then you’d have
a show with her.”
“I told you we’ve got to stick.”
growled Lawson. “The gang won’t
stand for our going. It enn't be d»ne
unless you want to sacrifice every
thing.”
“Yon moan douhlo-oro>s the non?
On without their knowing? Leave
them here to fare whatever comes?"
“I mean just Ihnt.’’
“I’m hn<l pnmr.'h. hut not that had.”
returned Longstreth, “If I can’t get
1 lie gang to let m> off. I’ll stay and
face the music. All the same, Law
son, did 11^ ever slr.’te you that most
of the deals the last few years have
been yours?”
“Yes. If I hadn’t rung them in
there wouldn’t have been any. You've
had cold feet, and especially since
this ranger hus been here."
“Well, call It cold feet if you like.
Hut I call it sense. We reached our
limit long ago. Then we had to go
on. Too late to turn back!”
“I reckon we've all said that.
of the gang wants to quit. They all
think, and I think, we can’t be touch
ed. We may be blamed, but nothing
can be proved. We’re too strong.”
“There’s where you're dead v rong.”
rejoined Longstreth. emphatically. “I
Imagined that once, not long ago. I
was hull-headed. Who would ever
connect Granger Longstreth with a
rustler gang? I’ve changed my mind.
I've begun to think. I’ve reasoned
out things. We're crooked, and we
can’t last. It’s the nature of life, even
here, for eonditions to grow better.
The wise deal for us would be to
divide equally and leave the country,
all of us.”
“But you and I have h 11 tlm stock—
nil the gain,” protested Lawson.
“I’ll split rrfinc.”
“I won't—that settles that,” added
Lawson, lnstuntly.
Longstreth spread wide Ills hands
as if it was useless to try to convince
this man. Talk had not lucreased his
calmness, and he now showed more
than impatience. A dull glint gleamed
deep in his eyes.
“Your stock nnd property will last
n long time—do lots of good when
this ranger—”
isan: nonrseiy eroaKca i.iiwpoq.
The ranger’s name was a match ap
plied to powder. “Haven’t I told you
he’d he dead soon—any time—same
as Laramie Is?”
“Yes. you mentioned the—the sup
position," replied Longstretb, sarcasti
cally. "I inquired, too, just how that
very desired event was to be brought
about.”
“The gang will lay him out.”
“Bah!” retorted Longstreth, in tuvn.
lie laughed contemptuously.
“Floyd, don’t be a fool. You've
been on the border for ten rears tint
you never In all that time saw a man
like this ranger. The only way to
get rid of him is for the gang to
draw on him, all at once. Theu he’s
going to drop some of them. To tell
you the truth, I wouldn’t care much.
I'm pretty sick of this mess.”
Lawson cursed in amazement. His
emotions were all out of proportion
to his intelligence. He was not at
all quick-witted. Duane had never
seen a vainer or more arrogant man.
“Longstreth1, I don’t like your talk,*
he said.
(;>r>n»tr>n»d Xext w. .>k.j
Can Qe«ae Talk?
A Kansas farmer ts certain that
geese have some way of communicat
ing. and lie tells the following Incident
to prove it. TTe lias a number of geese
that use the same nest lu a cattle*
shed. The other morning two of tJny
gees* were on the nest when a tur
key ben came along, drove them off
and appropriated it. The geese wad
dled off. around tlie* shed to where the
gander was standing, and in a minute
or two the whole bunch of geese, head
ed by the indignant gander, returned
to the nest and the turkey lien. The
old gander reached down, nipped the
turkey, and literally lifted her from
the nest, and the two geese took her
place. Now if the old gander wasn’t
told the trouble why did he eoiue tc,
the aid of his matMt
4