H. Bedford-Jones

“ Not a sign of the Circle Bar men was in evidence, but well he knew that they were waiting, grimly hidden.
Almost any man, given the opportunity, will shoot rather than be sent to the penitentiary, and Buck was now perfectly cool and steady in his resolute air. He had everything to gain and nothing to lose, and a single bold, well-planned stroke might yet save him from the brink of disaster. ”

“ His strategy became only too apparent to friend and foe alike. Any shots from ambush would draw an instant bullet into the body of Jake Harper; the menace of the rope and Buck’s drawn revolver were entirely obvious.
Buck himself rode in the van, Jake Harper a little in front. Behind, the Running Dog men spread out, the extra horses crowding up in the rear. As they wound out on the way, Jake Harper perceived how he was being used, and he sent a booming roar of command at the empty spaces around, where he knew his men were hidden. ”

“ The north trail was nearly hidden from them, but they could make out a trail of dust, and presently the swiftly moving object which had drawn the attention of Davitt. As this object came closer Davitt uttered an impatient exclamation.
“Ain’t no rider at all! By gosh, it’s a hoss!”
“It’s Jake Harper’s hoss, Celestine,” added Buck, watching the approaching beast.
“He got away from us when we nabbed Jake yestiddy,” said Sandy Davitt. “Git a rope, boys——”
“Stop!” ordered Buck. “Git off the trail, quick; leave the brute go through! It’ll fetch Sam Fisher jest that much quicker.” ”

“ Galway Mike had fallen over his bar, and lay there motionless. Sam Fisher jerked his gun into its holster again, his face hard and flinty, his eyes burning.
“Sorry about this, boys,” he said, “but it’s time that Mr. Buck and his friends were put out of business.”
“Who killed Cervantes?” yelled somebody. Sam Fisher held up his hand.
“I’ll tell you,” he said, and there was silence. “Three men hid in the brush and shot Cervantes, ambushed him, murdered him without a chance. Two of those men did the shooting. The third man was Chuck Hansom, yonder. One of the actual murderers is dead. ”

“ He rode a huge, rawboned beast whose eye was roving and vicious—a brute named Celestine. No man but Jake had ever ridden her, and no man wanted to. Celestine had a reputation.
When he came upon Arnold and Robinson waiting in the road, Jake Harper drew rein very abruptly. At sight of Robinson’s laughing gaze, a shock of surprise crossed his seamed features. His eyes opened wide.
“For the love of Mike!” he uttered. “You!”
“C’rect the first shot as usual, Jake. Sure’s my name’s Jack Robinson, it’s me! I been having quite a bit o’ talk with Arnold; friendly and peaceable. How’re you, Jake?” ”

“ Robinson did not miss the look. Then he glanced at the road, and saw the corduroy-clad figure of Buck, followed by another rider.
“Don’t mind if I smoke, Stella?” he drawled. “Thanks. Set down, Murphy. I’m real anxious to hear what Buck has to say to you.”
Murphy did not sit down, but eyed the approaching riders uneasily. Buck slid from his horse, looking visibly excited, and strode toward the veranda. He glanced at Robinson without surprise, then his gaze fell on Murphy. He doffed his hat to Estella.
“Morning, ma’am! You sure look fresh as ever. Got visitors, I see.” ”

“ Who’s leading them? Nobody. They’ll cool off mighty quick after leaving town. They ain’t sure just what has happened or who I am. When they strike trouble in the darkness they’ll be all confused and imagining things. Now, all we got to do is like this——”
He spoke for a moment, low-voiced.
The crowd of men who rode out from town on the north road was headed by the two Running Dog riders, who now had Chuck Hansom to avenge. Only their savage spurrings had availed to rouse the crowd, in fact; nobody was quite certain whether Miguel Cervantes had been murdered by Fisher or by Templeton Buck. ”

“ When the Circle Bar came up, they would be delayed appreciably by the four men. When at last left free to take the trail, they would naturally follow that left by the largest number of horses, leading toward their home ranch. And in the meantime Buck would be somewhere else.
“What’s the big idea, Buck?” asked Sandy Davitt, riding at the rancher’s stirrup. “Where we off for?”
“Git through the hills, hit the valley trail beyond, and lay up,” said Buck with a grin. “Sam Fisher and Arnold are bound to come that way from the Lazy S when they see the smoke, ain’t they?” ”

“ We eats with the boys when supper’s ready. Meantime, talk!”
“Suits me.” Robinson dropped into a chair. “You weren’t in town to-day?”
“Nope.” Jake Harper lowered his bulk into a groaning rocker. “I got so danged much rheumatiz lately it’s knocked me up. You didn’t meet Mig Cervantes?”
“Uh-huh. Met him and Buck and Mike and a man calling himself Murphy, only he was Matt Brady’s brother—Pincher. Maybe you remember him? Bad to the backbone.”
“You met ’em?” asked Jake Harper. “All of ’em?”
Robinson laughed softly. “Yep. Also Sheriff Tracy. I left town in a hurry. ”

“ Every man with him will become an accessory. You know me, boys, and you know I mean what I say. I’m giving you fair warning. Buck, it appears, got Jake Harper to-day, and the Circle Bar outfit is behind me to the limit. You know what that means—every man of ’em a sharpshooter, out to kill! The roads are watched; your outfit will be shot down the minute you reach the Running Dog buildings. Ride on if you want to—but you can’t come back, boys.”
The two riders sat motionless, drinking in his words. Most of those words had reached the crowd. News that Buck had “got” Jake Harper was paralyzing ”

“ We have none. There is only old Jake Harper, who has the Circle Bar up beyond us. None of the others help us or know us. New people have come into the country; times have changed. Besides——”
“Templeton Buck?” suggested Robinson.
“Yes. They have tried often to get me,” was the statement, simply given, “but for the sake of Miss Estella I have avoided offense. The Running Dog punchers make what use they like of our place; their foreman, Matt Brady, has even dared to fence in the springs adjoining the Buck ranch.” ”

“ You come down some day and get you a job on the SF Ranch below Pecos City. I’ll help you get it any old time. Sam Fisher owns her. He’s a smart young feller, they do say, only he don’t justify his reputation much. Least, that’s what Jake Harper says.”
“Hold your jaw!” came the savage command from behind.
Robinson glanced over his shoulder and beheld another cloud of dust far behind them. His captor jerked on the lariat, and continued:
“Robinson, you start any talkin’ and you’ll never reach town alive. I means it. When that gent comes up, if he ain’t Buck you lay low.” ”

“ To the last one they were men; reckless, scoundrelly if you like, but men unafraid.
“Ain’t none of you ridin’ to town?” asked Buck.
“Nary one, I guess,” Sandy Davitt made response. A growl of assent backed him up.
“I appreciate this, boys; I sure do!” Buck’s tall figure straightened up. “Well, I give you the worst end of the talk on the start. It’s true that Sam Fisher is playin’ a winning hand so far, but he ain’t raked in the pot by a long sight! He’s bluffed out Tracy, and he’s got Pahrump buffaloed—but all he’s got behind him is the Circle Bar, and we’ve got Jake Harper here. ”

“ Nobody in these here parts is goin’ to start buckin’ my hand, y’ understand? There’s only one feller might try it; Sam Fisher, a guy who was a powerful friend of the Shumways in other times. But he’s clear down to the other end the State, and I’m havin’ him watched.”
Murphy had straightened up a trifle.
“You don’t mean young Fisher, the deputy sheriff o’ Pecos County—him that’s goin’ to be sheriff there next election? I’ll tell the world you’d better watch him. Buck! That gent is one hell ringer. ”