Idaho -- Fiction; Ranch life -- Fiction; Western stories
She was putting on her hat even while she listened to the message, and
she astonished the man at the other end by making no retort
whatever. She almost ran to the store, and she did not ask Pete for a
saddle-horse; she just threw her office key at him, and told him she was
going to take his bay, and she was at the stable before he closed the
mouth he had opened in amazement at her whirlwind departure.
CHAPTER XXV. “I'D JUST AS SOON HANG FOR NINE MEN AS FOR ONE”
Baumberger climbed heavily out of the rig, and went lurching drunkenly
up the path to the house where the cool shade of the grove was like
paradise set close against the boundary of the purgatory of blazing
sunshine and scorching sand. He had not gone ten steps from the stable
when he met Good Indian face to face.
“Hullo,” he growled, stopping short and eying him malevolently with
lowered head.
Good Indian's lips curled silently, and he stepped aside to pursue his
way. Baumberger swung his huge body toward him.
“I said HULLO. Nothin' wrong in that, is there? HULLO--d'yuh hear?”
“Go to the devil!” said Grant shortly.
Baumberger leered at him offensively. “Pretty Polly! Never learned but
one set uh words in his life. Can't yuh say anything but 'Go to the
devil!' when a man speaks to yuh? Hey?”
“I could say a whole lot that you wouldn't be particularly glad to
hear.” Good Indian stopped, and faced him, coldly angry. For one thing,
he knew that Evadna was waiting on the porch for him, and could see
even if she could not hear; and Baumberger's attitude was insulting. “I
think,” he said meaningly, “I wouldn't press the point if I were you.”
“Giving me advice, hey? And who the devil are you?”
“I wouldn't ask, if I were you. But if you really want to know, I'm the
fellow you hired Saunders to shoot. You blundered that time. You should
have picked a better man, Mr. Baumberger. Saunders couldn't have hit
the side of a barn if he'd been locked inside it. You ought to have made
sure--”
Baumberger glared at him, and then lunged, his eyes like an animal gone
mad.
“I'll make a better job, then!” he bellowed. “Saunders was a fool. I
told him to get down next the trail and make a good job of it. I told
him to kill you, you lying, renegade Injun--and if he couldn't, I can!
Yuh WILL watch me, hey?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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