Clarence E. Mulford

“ Harris, Marshal of Clay Gulch, is stumped, too. He can't move without proof; you can. Th' first man to get is George Thomas, then his brother Art. By that time you 'll know how things lay. George Thomas is keepin' out of Harris' way. He killed a man last week over in Tuxedo an' Harris wants to take him over there. He 'll not help you, so don't ask him to." Before Bill could reply or recover from his astonishment Oleson continued and described several men. "Look out for ambushes. It 'll be th' hardest game you ever went up ag'in, an' if you ain't got th' sand to go through with it, say so." ”

“ On his opened vest, hanging slovenly and blinking in the growing light as if to prepare itself for the blinding glare of midday, glinted a five-pointed star of nickel, a lowly badge that every rural community knows and holds in an awe far above the metal or design. ”

“ Oleson's dismay was fading, and he accepted the situation with a grim smile. "You don't know them fellers," he replied. "They 're a bad lot, an' won't stop at nothin'."
"All right. Let's take a look at them cows. I want to get home soon as I can."
Oleson shook his head. "I gave you up, an' when I got a better offer I let 'em go. I 'm sorry you had th' ride for nothin', but I could n't get word to you."
Bill led the way in silence back to the bunk house and mounted his horse. "All right," he nodded. "I shore was late. Well, I 'll be goin'."
"That gun-man is late, too," said Oleson. ”

“ Bill leaped sideways, turning while in the air and landed on his feet like a cat, his left hand gripping a heavy Colt that covered the short ribs of the frightened proprietor before that worthy could hardly realize the move.
"Oh, all right," growled Bill, appearing to be disappointed. "I reckoned mebby you was gamblin' on a shore thing. I feels impelled to offer you my sincere apology; you ain't th' kind as would even gamble on a shore thing. ”

“ Then his Colt leaped out and crashed a fraction of a second before the brothers fired. George Thomas reeled, caught sight of the puncher and fired by instinct. Bill, leaving Harris to watch the other side of the street, was watching the rear corner of the Victoria and was unprepared for the shot. He crumpled and dropped and then the marshal, enraged, ended the rustler's earthly career in a stream of flame and smoke. Tom, turning into the street further down, wheeled and dashed for his horse, and Art, having leaped behind the harness shop, turned and fled for his life. ”

“ Bill had doubled back and was within a hundred yards of Shorty when that person turned ranchward.
"Huh! I must be popular," grunted Bill. "I reckon I will stay in Clay Gulch till t'morrow mornin'; an' at the Victoria," he grinned. Then he laughed heartily. "Victoria! I got a better name for it than that, all right."
When he pulled up before the Victoria and looked in the proprietor scowled at him, which made Bill frown as he went on to Hawley's. Putting his horse in the corral he carried his saddle and rifle into the barroom and looked around. There was no one in sight, and he smiled. ”

“ Come on; we 'll get Harris first. He ought to be gettin' close to town if he got th' word I sent over to Tuxedo. He won't let us call him. He's a man of his word."
"He 'll be here, all right. Fred an' Tom is watchin' his shack, an' we better take th' other end of town—there 's no tellin' how he 'll come in now," suggested Art Thomas. "But I wish I knowed where that cussed gun-man is."
As they went out Bill, his chaps on and his boots in his hand, crept down the stairs, and stopped as he neared the hall door. The proprietor was coming back. ”

“ Bill dropped his load on the floor and spoke sharply. "I want supper an' a bed. You ain't full up, an' you ain't out of grub. So I 'm goin' to get 'em both right here. Yes?"
"You shore called th' turn, stranger," replied Mr. Hawley in his Sunday voice. "That's what I 'm in business for. An' business is shore dull these days."
He wondered at the sudden smile that illuminated Bill's face and half guessed it; but he said nothing and went to work. When Bill pushed back from the table he was more at peace with the world and he treated, closely watching his companion. Mr. ”

“ Mr. Hawley looked surprised and almost answered the first part of the question correctly before he thought. "Well," he grinned, "if I could tell where strangers was goin', an' why, I would n't never ask 'em where they come from. An' I 'd shore hunt up a li'l game of faro, you bet!"
Bill smiled. "Well, that might be a good idea. But, say, what ails this town, anyhow?"
"What ails it? Hum! Why, lack of money for one thing; scenery, for another; wimmin, for another. Oh, h—l, I ain't got time to tell you what ails it. Why?"
"Is there anything th' matter with me?" ”

“ Bill was looking at him with an expression that said much and he slowly extended his arm and pointed to the untasted liquor.
"Allus finish what you start, English," he said slowly and clearly. "When a man goes to take a drink with me, and suddenly changes his mind, why I gets riled. I don't know what ails this town, an' I don't care; I don't give a cuss about yore grub an' your beds ”