The Lone Star Ranger: A Romance of the BorderGrey, Zane
General
The Lone Star Ranger: A Romance of the Border
Grey, Zane
Mexican-American Border Region -- Fiction; Western stories
“Ah!” exclaimed MacNelly, softly. Then he grew businesslike, cool, and
of harder aspect. “Duane, it's your game to-day. I'm only a ranger under
orders. We're all under your orders. We've absolute faith in you. Make
your plan quick, so I can go around and post the boys who're not here.”
“You understand there's no sense in trying to arrest Poggin, Kane, and
that lot?” queried Duane.
“No, I don't understand that,” replied MacNelly, bluntly.
“It can't be done. The drop can't be got on such men. If you meet them
they shoot, and mighty quick and straight. Poggin! That outlaw has no
equal with a gun--unless--He's got to be killed quick. They'll all have
to be killed. They're all bad, desperate, know no fear, are lightning in
action.”
“Very well, Duane; then it's a fight. That'll be easier, perhaps. The
boys are spoiling for a fight. Out with your plan, now.”
“Put one man at each end of this street, just at the edge of town. Let
him hide there with a rifle to block the escape of any outlaw that we
might fail to get. I had a good look at the bank building. It's
well situated for our purpose. Put four men up in that room over the
bank--four men, two at each open window. Let them hide till the game
begins. They want to be there so in case these foxy outlaws get wise
before they're down on the ground or inside the bank. The rest of your
men put inside behind the counters, where they'll hide. Now go over to
the bank, spring the thing on the bank officials, and don't let them
shut up the bank. You want their aid. Let them make sure of their gold.
But the clerks and cashier ought to be at their desks or window when
Poggin rides up. He'll glance in before he gets down. They make no
mistakes, these fellows. We must be slicker than they are, or lose. When
you get the bank people wise, send your men over one by one. No hurry,
no excitement, no unusual thing to attract notice in the bank.”
“All right. That's great. Tell me, where do you intend to wait?”
Duane heard MacNelly's question, and it struck him peculiarly. He had
seemed to be planning and speaking mechanically. As he was confronted
by the fact it nonplussed him somewhat, and he became thoughtful, with
lowered head.
“Where'll you wait, Duane?” insisted MacNelly, with keen eyes
speculating.
“I'll wait in front, just inside the door,” replied Duane, with an
effort.
“Why?” demanded the Captain.
“Well,” began Duane, slowly, “Poggin will get down first and start in.
But the others won't be far behind. They'll not get swift till inside.
The thing is--they MUSTN'T get clear inside, because the instant they
do they'll pull guns. That means death to somebody. If we can we want to
stop them just at the door.”
“But will you hide?” asked MacNelly.
“Hide!” The idea had not occurred to Duane.
“There's a wide-open doorway, a sort of round hall, a vestibule, with
steps leading up to the bank. There's a door in the vestibule, too. It
leads somewhere. We can put men in there. You can be there.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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