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The Sheriff's Son

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 3337    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

n on t

l that time life had never disciplined her to repress the impulses of her heart. As a child she had been a fierce, wild little creature full of savage affections and generosities. She still retained more feminine f

d enough to forfeit the good opinion of this primitive young hill beauty, but it was worse to know that in a measure he deserved it.

ld note no difference in the manner of the rest. Was it possible she had not told her

ull of apprehension. What were the Rutherfords waiting for? He

gged off on their cowponies to mend a broken bit of fence. Hal s

some rosebushes in her small garden. Curtly she declined his offer to take the spad

e ranchers there, Miss Rutherford. You've been awfully good to me,

itating a crisis, but the young woman made no protest. Wit

s horse?" she asked her brothe

was plain that he had been caught by

u going?"

going? Get the horse-or I wi

of the ranches farther up

l dad comes home

e with the obstinacy of a timid man w

he black eyes of Ruther

to, Hal? Get Mr. Street's horse." She whirled on Beaudry s

youth murm

e wants to hit the trail in suc

y Beaudry followed her after a moment or two.

utherford," he demurred,

He understood perfectly that she had been going to saddle the horse to

where in sight. The young hillman did not look up from the riv

s Rutherford how much I'm in her debt for t

you, Mr. Spy." Rutherford glowered at him menacing

grasped the mane of his cowpony. "You've used a word that isn't fair. I didn'

ptuous. Fire flashed in her eyes, but t

cessary," she

looked like a coiled spring in its tenseness. "Explain

nter. The look in Rutherford's glittering eyes had sent a flare of fear over him. T

afternoon of pain. Gameness was one of the fundamentals of her creed, and he had showed the white feather. It added to his punishment, too, that he worshiped pluck with all the fervor of one who knew he had none. Courage seemed to him the one virtue worth while; cowardice the unpa

th of the gulch which led to the Meldrum place. Beyond this a few hundred yards he left the main road and went through the chaparral toward a small ranch that ne

ut and the two jabbered away excitedly in their native tongue. The upshot of it was that they agreed to take the windmill agent if he would room in an old

rom them while he ate supper. They had seen nothing of any stranger in the valley except himself, but they dropped ca

name, isn't it? Let's see. Just w

s by on the road and there iss no way in-no arroyo, no gulch, no noddings but

ybody in the park to get a chance to

rum. My advice is

hy

re. Me, I am an honest man. I keep the law. Also I mind my own pusiness. So it iss with many. But there are others-mind, I gif them no names, but-" He shrugge

little woman nodd

d him to the captive cattleman. Twice he skirted the dark gash of the ravine at the back of the pasture, but each time his heart failed at the plunge into its unknown dangers. The first time he persuaded himself that he had better make the attempt at night, but when he stood on the brink in the darkne

o breakfast, as he wanted to get an early start for his canvassing. The little German woman bustled about and wrapped up for him a cold lunch to eat at his cabin in the morning. She liked this quiet, good-looking young man whose smile

cruel, bloodless face of Tighe. It was three o'clock when he rose and began to dress. He slipped out of the cabin into the wet pasture. His legs were sopping wet from the long gras

path leading up the gulch, so that he could grope his way forward slowly. His feet moved reluctantly. It seemed to him that his nerves, his brain, and even his muscles were in revolt against the moral com

k country trouble. His father, his mother, Dave Dingwell, Pat Ryan, Jess Tighe, the whole Rutherford clan, including Beulah! One quality they all had in

, came to him a snatc

hawss an' l

ong by the

ss took a bit

on't,' says th

pictures his memory reproduced the night John Beaudry had last chanted the lullaby and that other picture of the Homeric fight of one man against a do

ow from where Roy stood, a Mexican jacal looked down into the ca?on. The hut was a large one. It was built of upright poles daubed with cl

as the home of Meld

ee to tree. The distance from the nearest pine to the jacal was about thirty feet. A clump of cholla grew thick just outside the window. Roy crouched behind the trunk for several minutes before he could bring himself to tak

his thumbs hitched in a sagging revolver belt, sat Ned Rutherford. The third person in the room lay stretc

r to see how he took it. "I've got inside information that I need some hot cakes, a few

been reading that we all eat too much, anyhow. What's the use of stuffing-gets yor

ays. Better come through with what we want to know. This thing ain

so. I reckon after a time I'll get real hungry, but it don't seem like I co

thin and gaunt, dark circles shadowed the eyes. The man, no doubt, was suffering greatly, yet his manner gave no sign of it. He might not be master of his fate; at least, he was very much the captain of his soul. Pat Ryan had described him in

dry where he crouched in the chaparral. He heard Meldrum's brusque "Come an

nives, and forks. "I'd a heap rather treat you like a white man. This 'Pache business doesn't make a hit with m

p; another is strong for them hard-boiled. But eggs is eggs. When Dan went visitin' at Santa

him. A revolver seemed to jump to his hand, but before

an. Don't you

s I'll pump lead into him unless he clamps that mouth of his'n.

ed. His good-natured drawl grew slightly more pronounced. "Wall yore eyes and wave yore tail all you've a mind

slamming his big fist down on th

etful? If I'd wore a uniform two years for rustling

ffee-pot down on the floor and bolted out of the open door. His arms whirled in violent ges

Beaudry crouched lower behind the cactus until the man had disappeared. Then he craw

ords coming to relieve Ned. He passed from one boulder to another, always working up toward the wall of the

tole down to the trail an

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