Raymond S. Spears

“ He’s bought a sight of shoots from me, but he’s no friend of mine. Eighteen years ago, he killed my brother, who was scouting down on his ranch. It was cold blood. I never said a word. You’re a good man, and I’ve given you fair warning—which few of his dead men ever had.”
“And he wants me to pull first, eh?” Bob asked, eagerly.
“Just so—sh-h! No ’fense, suh—but yo’ wife— He’s talking——”
“It’s all right—about my wife. Never doubt it,” Bob whispered, as he gathered up the fifty weight of hay-bale wire.
Bob put the wire into his truck, and tied it fast. ”

“ Jet pressed the question.
“Well—” and the prosecutor grinned—“if he pulls his gun on you, and you kill him, that’s self-defense. But it’s got to be a cinch. You’ll have to prove to the jury that it’s self-defense—and they’ll be mostly homesteaders, who haven’t much sympathy for old-time ranchers, for there are lots of them starving to death on lands that ought never to have been taken from ranching and grazing, for homesteading. You know that. They think the cattlemen were to blame.”
“Yes, but——”
“No buts about it, Letare. If you shoot Bob Alvorn, you’ll hang, if I’m prosecutor. ”

“ We aren’t going to have this country all shot up by a lot of murdering old-timers. We can’t afford it. Why, nobody is going to come out here, to settle down, if you can go in and shoot anybody that takes land legally, when you’re holding it, grazing it, and grabbing it. ”

“ Jet Letare, more than once, in the cause of injustice set men afoot with their saddles, and the thirty or forty mile walk along any of the devious trails did not at all appease the angry feelings of the men dismounted. Rumors around that there were killings on Curly Grass Creek were not confirmed by court action. Letare had lost nothing in his ancient gun-draw skill, and he never rode without his revolvers.
INTO Letare’s domain, not three miles from his ranch-house, came Bob Alvorn. ”

“ Yet when he left Letare that night, he said:
“You’re a fool, Letare! Nobody is being fooled!”
“Yes, they are, sheriff,” he replied. “What have you these suspicions against me for?”
Darnell looked at him, and then rode away. He knew the rancher was grinning. He told the prosecuting attorney about it. Habrey cursed.
“A man don’t get away with molesting women out here,” the lawyer said. “Letare’s a fool!”
“Except you can’t catch him,” Darnell grumbled. “What’s his game, anyhow?”
Habrey looked at him for a minute, and then said:
“Self-defense. ”

“ He aims to nag Alvorn till the homesteader makes a break.”
“He can’t get away with it!”
“He can if he waits till Alvorn draws his gun first.”
“But Alvorn will bush-whack him!”
“That’s the worst of it. Alvorn’s clean. He came from the Ozark mountains where they never shoot a man from the brush, but spring all clear before they draw their guns.”
“Can he shoot?”
“I don’t know. Probably not—at least not with Letare. Letare bought five thousand forty-five caliber revolver cartridges three months ago. Yesterday he came in and bought five thousand more. He’s practising every day.” ”

“ A tall galvanized pipe was braced with many wires against the constant wind from out of the prairies, and beneath this part of the rambling shack roof was a he cook who roasted beef, or veal, boiled vegetables, baked dough-biscuits some of which were hard and heavy enough to be used as deadly missiles. ”

“ Alvorn worked the tractor, and cared for the stock. She carried two steers in the truck Alvorn had bought, and sold them to a cattle buyer at the railroad. On her way home in the dark, she was held up, the money taken away, the truck crippled by breaking the spark plugs.
She walked five miles to the nearest house, borrowed an automobile and rode to Corbeau. There she told the sheriff, who rode out to the scene, taking an automobile mechanic and spare parts to the crippled machine. One man had held the woman up and robbed her. Darnell went on to Letare’s ranch and found all hands there. ”

“ A man has to protect himself, up to a certain point, and I suppose I’m the one who’s to blame. Keep watch, will you?”
“I surely shall!” the sheriff promised, and Bob rose to take his departure. He limped a little as he walked out ahead of the sheriff. Darnell followed him. As they cleared the doorway and stood on the jail office porch, Bob stopped short.
Across the street, about a hundred feet distant, was Jet Letare. Down the street was the automobile he had just driven in to town. He was walking to meet Mrs. Alvorn, who was carrying some packages in her arms toward the Alvorn truck. ”