The Tupelo journal., 1909-10-29

range interests, as a rule, were openly
or covertly friendly to Sinclair, while
against him were the homesteaders,
the railroad men, the common people
and the men who everywhere hate
cruelty and outrage and the making
of a lie.
Lance Dunning had never concealed
his friendliness for Sinclair, even aft
er hard stories about him were known
to be true, and 1t vas this confidence
of fellowship that made Sinclair, "a
hours after he had left Oroville, ride
down the hill trail to Crawling Stone
ranchhouse.
The morning had been cold, with a
heavy wind and a dull sky. In the aft
ernoon the clouds lowered over the
valley and a misting rain set in. Dick
sic had gone into Medicine Bend On
the stage in the morning, and, after a
stolen half-hour with McCloud at
Marion's, had ridden home to escape
the storm. Not less, but much more,
than those about her she was alive to
the situation in which Sinclair stood
and its danger to those closest to her.
In the morning her n prayer to Nc
Cloud had been to have a care of him
self, and to Marion to have a care of
herself; but even when Dicksie left
them it seemed as if neither quite felt
the peril as she. felt it.
In the afternoon the rain, falling
steadily, kept her in the house, and
she sat in her room sewing until the
light failed. She went downstairs.
Puss had lighted the crate in the
living room, and Dicksie threw herself
into a chair. The sounds of hoofs
aroused her and she went to a win
dow. TO her horror, she saw Sinclair
walking with her cousin up to the
front door. She ran into the dining
room, and the two men entered the
hall and walked into the office. Chok-
ing with excitement, Dicksie ran
through the kitchen and upstairs to
master her agitation.
In the Office Sinclair was sitting
down before the hot stove with a
tumbler of whisky. "Lance,"-he
shook his head as he spoke hoarsely-
Il want to say my friends have stood
by me to a man, but there's o Of
them treated me squarer through
thick and thin than you have. Well,
I've had some bad luck. 1t can't'he
helped. R~egards!"
He drank, and shook his wet hair
again. Four days of hard riding had
left no trace on his iron features. Wei
to the bone, his eyes flashed with fire.
He held the glassful of whisky In a
hand as steady as a sp~irit-level and
tossed it down a throat as cool as
dew.
Il want to say another thing,
Lance: / had no more intention than
a child of hurting Ed Banks. | warned
Ed months ago to keep out of this
fight, and | never knew he vas in it
till it was too late. But I'm hoping he
will pull through yet, if they don't
kill him in the hospital to spite me. I
never recognized the man at all till it
was too late. Why, n of them used
to work for me! A man with the
whole railroad gang in these noun
tains after him has got to look out for
himself or his life amt worth a glass
of beer. Thank you, Lance, not any
more. l saw two men, with their
rifles in their hands, looking for me. 1
hollered at them; but, Lance, I'm rough
and ready, as all my friends know,
and / will let no man put a drop on
me-that / will lever do. Ed, before
l ever recognized him, raised his rifle;
that's the only eason l fired. Not so
full, Lance, not so full, If you please.
Well" he shook his black hair as he
threw back his head, here's to better
luck in worse countries!" He paused
as he swallowed, and set the tumbler
down. Lance, I'm saying good-by to
the mountains"
you're not going away for good,
Murray"
I'm going away for good. What's
the use? For two years these railroad
cutthroats have been trying to put
something on me; you know that.
They've been trying to mix me up
with that bridge-burning at Smoky
creek; Sugar Buttes, they had me
there; Tower W-nothing would do
but l RAJ there, and they've got one
of the men in Jail down there now,
Lance, trying to sweat enough perjury
out of him to send me up. What
show has a poor man got against all
the money there is in the country? /
wouldn't be afraid of a jury of my own
neighbors-the men that know me,
Lance-any time. What show would
| have with a packed jury in Medicine
Bend? / could explain anything I've
done to the satisfaction of any reason
able man I'm human, Lance; that's
all | say. I've been mistreated and
/ don't forget it. They've even turned
my wife against meas fine a woman
as ever lived"
Lance swore alphabetically.
There's good stuff In you yet, MUIR
ray"
I'm going to say good-by to the
mountains" Sinclair went on, grimly,
but I'm going to Medicine Bend to-
night and tell the mar that has
bounded me what / think of him be-
fore | leave. I'm going to give my
wife a chance to do what is right and
go with me. She's been poisoned
against mel know that; but if she
does what's fair and square there'll be
no trouble-no trouble at all. All /
want, Lance, is a square deal. What?"