Track's End

ck's End, and part of another: wit

ard the men scramble over a fence and run off. Then I ran out to where Allenham lay. He made no answer whe

g. In a minute or two they brought in Allenham, and the doctor began to work over him. The whole town was soon on hand, and it was decide

ck out the man who fired th

swered. "It

ow do you happen to

t by the ear and looked at

'll take you down and you ca

ere afraid I would get away. To tell the truth, I should have been glad enough to have got out o

heard except the loud snoring of the men in the nearest tent, which seemed to me almost too loud. There was

up!" called Dawson. Th

there, every one of you. There's fif

fire, and it blazed up and threw the long shadows of the tents out across the prairie. One by one the men came out, as if they were just roused from s

, "pick out the man you saw fir

the middle of an oath. I looked along the line, but saw that I could n

's th

hatred; then he laughed; but it didn't s

wn the track to where an empty box-car was standing on the siding. "Get in there!" he said to Pike, and the man did it, and the door was locked. Three men were left t

s decided to order all of the graders to leave town without delay, except Pike, who was to be kept in the car until the outcome of All

ons and filed away to the east beside the railroad track. They were

at time was out of danger. There was a good deal of talk about what ought to be d

an, "you can't go far wrong if you hang him up high

t as hard a gale as I ever saw. It swept up great clouds of dust and blew down all of the tents and endangered many of the buildings. In the afternoon we heard a

et away?" eve

7 that," and the man rolled up his eyes. There was a loud laugh at this, as everybody understood that the guards had loosened the brake and given the car a start, and they all

he wind always holds and don't do much else. It wouldn't

. I sat a long time thinking over what had happened since I had come to Track's End. It seemed, as if things had crowded one another so much th

in 18 town kept by a man named Munger and a partner whose name I have forgotten; but their horses were all out. The Headquarters barn was mainly for the teams of people

g in pointing out that desperado the

very well have done otherwise

wing the kind of a man he is, it was very brave of you. My name is Clerkinwell. I run the Bank

e from no less a man than a banker. I hurried and took the team around to the bank, and had a good look at it. It 19 was a small, square, two-story

of the barn. But when bedtime came this night Mr. Clerkinwell had not returned, so I sat up to wait

son," said he. "So

ir," I

m or any one is on watc

. "I haven't seen nor hear

ooms in the second story of his bank building. I put the horses in their stalls, and fed and watered them, and started up the ladder to the loft. What Mr. Cl

dings of the town and Frenchman's Butte made long shadows on the prairie. There was a dull spot of light on the sky to the southeast which I knew was the reflection of a

last light from the moon gleamed on its tail and then was gone. I turned out across where the graders had had their camp. Here the wind was hissing through the dry grass sharp enough. I

t was the grass that was afire. Through the flames I caught a glimpse of a man. A gust of wind beat down the blaze, and I saw the man, b

e street yelling "Fire!" so that to this day it is