The deputy marshal blinked his eyes rapidly, as though he needed to
clear his vision.
"Son," he said hoarsely. "I c'n see you're game. But don't make a fall
play. If Mac Strann gets you, he'll California you like a yearling. You
won't have no chance. You've done for Jerry, there ain't a doubt of
that, but Jerry to Mac is like a tame cat to a mountain-lion. Lad, I c'n
see you're a stranger to these parts, but ask me your questions and I'll
tell you the best way to go."
Barry slipped from the saddle.
He said: "I'd like to know the best place to put up my hoss."
The deputy marshal was speechless.
"But I s'pose," went on Barry, "I can stable him over there behind the
hotel."
Matthews pushed off his sombrero and rubbed his short fingers through
his hair. Anger and amazement still choked him, but he controlled
himself by a praiseworthy effort.
"Barry," he said, "I don't make you out. Maybe you figure to wait till
Mac Strann gets to town before you leave; maybe you think your hoss can
outrun anything on four feet. And maybe it can. But listen to me: Mac
Strann ain't fast on a trail, but the point about him is that he never
leaves it! You can go through rain and over rocks, but you can't never
shake Mac Strann--not once he gets the wind of you."
"Thanks," returned the gentle-voiced stranger. "I guess maybe he'll be
worth meeting."
And so saying he turned on his heel and walked calmly towards the big
stables behind the hotel and at his heels followed the black dog and the
black horse. As for deputy marshal Matthews, he moistened his lips to
whistle, but when he pursed them, not a sound came. He turned at length
into the barroom and as he walked his eye was vacant. He was humming
brokenly:
_"Sweet Adeline, my Adeline,
At night, dear heart, for you I pine."_
Inside, he took firm hold upon the bar with both pudgy hands.
"O'Brien," he said, "red-eye."
He pushed away the small glass which the bartender spun towards him and
seized in its place a mighty water-tumbler.
"O'Brien," he explained, "I need strength, not encouragement." And
filling the glass nearly to the brim he downed the huge potion at a
single draught.
CHAPTER XI
THE BUZZARD
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account