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“How come you to git mixed up with Buck,
son? " asked Lon, not unkindly.
“Me and him'd been playing pitch in the
‘Fashion’ at Naco, and I was broke and plumb
~down and out, and then we got drunk and next
thing I knowed we were at Hunnicut’s and runnin’
off his horses. Buck, he left me for a minute to
|2O into the house to rustle some chuck because
"wefi‘uredeverybodymnmylortbeflul.b\m
Mr. Hunnicut—all right, don’t be scared. li
won't tll. That’s about all, I reckon. But it's
true, every word. You believe me, don't you?
Don't you?” He appealed to each in turn, but
the yearning in his iterated query seemed to Old |
Lon to be directed elsewhere, and he raised his
eycbrows quizzically at his daughter. * You
| believe me, don't you?” Cole asked agala. |
| Without so much as a look at him, she whirled
iabout and walked from the room. Cole waited
| patiently, but she did not return. *“All right,” he
| said, brusque and purposeful, *“ maybe she'll believe
|me some day. Gentlemen, I'll leave your artillery
| down the trail a piece. Adios. Mr. Sanders, 11
| hate to do you like this, but I'm Just up against it.”
I “That's all right,” was the gruffi response.
| “Take care of yourself, boy.”
| Next instant the door slammed and the three
men saw him take a flying leap to the back of the
sherifi s dun, Then they surged out in pursuit, the
officer well in the lead, Old Lon next, and Hunni
cut a bad last and thankful for it.
Master of the situation when in the saddle, the
fugitive took his time, ambling leisurely past the
ranch buildings, but once in the open country he
shook up his mount and streaked south for the
Border. Not long after dark, on a limping horse,
he made the San Pedro a mile gbove the customs.
corrald and got down to ste what the trouble was.
As he was prying a stone from the hoof, a masked
- man stepped from behind a mesquite tree, cover
ing him with a rifle. Cole laughed. AN right,
| Buck,” he said. “I'l put ‘em up.”
| “Keep 'em up! Higher!"” piped his diminutive
caplor
L "1 never sween you o clumsy before, Buck. 1
could have dropped you then as casy as wink.
It was a cinch.”
| “Then why didn't you? ™
| “Because,” replied Cole gravely, “1 didat
| want to shoot.™
| The highwayman was not especially gratcful
| “Hand over that money,” he ordered.
| Cole complied. “Yes, sir,” he reiterated, “1
| could have got you then, Buck, ar casy —as casy
as thic” With incredible quickness he slapgani
the rifle aside and grappled with his captor, who
went 1o the ground with absurd case.
| “Bob!” begged a voice. “Plase! s me”
L “Mex!™ He lifted ber up, demanding roughly,
CWhat're you doing bere? You might've et
1 just wanted to—to make you come back,”
she whimpered. “And now you've gone and
made my nose bleed. ™
“Come back? What for?™
“Well, Mrs. Malone told me if & woman knew
how and was quite firm you've got lon-]
back |
"leaM.”bflhh'Hfiu?
while Meg tenderly applied a handherbied 1o ber
e, “let me pet this straight. Do you wiand
that | should go back? ™ \
“Well, Mre. Makne 1 thought I'd take &
chance ™ '
King Cole, alias Bob Concannon, swalldwed
band & couple of times Then he said, huskily, |
“UH o back. Let ‘em swend me to the pen.” |
“Theyll never wnd you 1o the pen,” she
asaciten] b "‘elawlh‘h&m.uflg
be W b ashamed o make trouble Besides, dad
can B everything up ™ 5
There emsoed & brief sene upon whikh o
ol ik dog sopeie gared with wonder bedory e fledd |
e the river bed Afterwands, in the combonable
comv it that her father woukd “iy everything
i, they stanied back to the Lagy L, riding very
el togatbar
“King’? King Cole’™ The summons came
e the bt bum
C “Ma'am’ T respuaded Cole
" Comme here this minute snd wash these dishes
Ve were sitting on the Sanders’ porch alter
diner. | had arvived that morning to ok over |
some calves OM Lon was obliged 10 w!
bow miiw of ot goge. !
O Dave,” the conman sabd ia exjlanathon.
to relieve bis oo in lan's eombarrasement, “is
o oprer Bt fondie Bk eet has to g 0 off every
ws often mvr equvicßy in going
Al when b dows.” King sapplemented, |
Belp with the b
"Nt you coming’” Meg inguived in & bigher
key, “of must |go fetech you?
The sowm balare with which Colde Larvie] aftey
that i ondet Lo fonich & cREAtV otk me a 0 ety
thin. Mo coughod sl romarked. let her be
e buowe i Bothe things, Pt Bat when it comes
Bos aty hutng imge et pnt
“Conrse work,” | ghosted. “That's what they
ol sy "
"R Cole’ Vo coming?
Ve, maam’ Night sou’” 1
Harrison Fisher’s
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