New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1912-06-02

way after I've laid out that MaVerlck-an
he's simply got to die"
1t was hard for Shorty Regain to think
that, though Pearl Bassett had seemed to
love him, she was not partizan enough 10
share in his wish for revenge. Women were
strange creatures Perhaps even now she
was on the way to warn Steve that his enc
nv was free and would soon be upon his
trail. She baffled his understanding. 90
bad, But in a year or so she might change
her mind. He prayed that she might; but
nothing could change him in his fierce lust
for the life of the man who had sworn him
into prison.
CHORTY REGAIN yawned, stretched his
- saddle wearied legs, and sat up Gray
streaks were beginning to appear above the
mesa at the opening of the canon; but IL
was not vet light enough for him to PICK his
way up the side grlch among the rocks ana
Nd through the brush to the water hole where
last night his aching eyes had made out the
campfire of Steve MacFarland.
For three days Regan had scanned the
desert and the foothills for the smoke OF that
campfire. For three days he had cursed his
luck and cleaned his Winchester in his frult-
less search for the lone horseman whom ne
knew was somewhere in the wilderness OF
sand. mesuuit, and heat-Stabbed mesaS that
Law to the southwark. And now he had To-
Gated his man.
Shorty shivcrcd a little in the chill morn
ing air. Two years in prison makes a man a
little sensitive to early morning canon drafts
He drew his blanket closer about his shout
ders, and with his chin on his palms stared up
into the grilch with unsceing eyes, Just as ne
had stared from the edge of his prison cot,
gazing blankly at the wall before him. Some
how he had felt that vitascopic scene OF the
canon trail would be the true picture. "A
loud "Hclol" would bring the Sheriff upon
one elbOw.-Shorty drew the line at shoot.
ing a sleeping n,-but before the hand OF
the startled man could reach his holster a
bullet would send him back upon his blanket
to sleep into eternity.
Shorty shivcred again. 1t was not pleas
ant to meet death only half awake; but the
man deserved it: he had courtcd just Such
a death when he sworc him into the pen tor
fifteen wears. And, more than that, he
knew that the Sheriff was out for hun now
and had vowed to take him alive or dead. 1t
was merely Shorty'S good luck that ne had
doubled upon MacFarlands trail, and that
the pursucr, though he did not know 1t, had
become the pursued.
II was light enough 10 travel now. Kegan
shook the sand out Of his blanket, folded 1t
neatly. and carefully rolled it up. Then he
washed hi, face at the water hole, and by the
aid Of his pocket mirror he combcd his hair
and brushed it neatly. If he should merely
wing his man and should be shot down him.
self. he would look clean and fit when borne
into town. and that was a great point with
so tidy a man as Shorty Regain. He parted
his hair as close 10 the middle rs the dim
light Of four in the morning would permit.
! Then he rose and went over to where his
| hobhlcd mustang was cropping the scant
| blade; Of withcrcd bunch grass. few MIN
utcs further preparation found him ready
for the trail. He would breakfast later,
maybe ont Of the Sheriff kit. There would
be a can Of condensed milk, he knew, and
that was good; for he liked condensed milk
in his coffee.
1t was a little darker in the deep gulch,
and his horse stumbled repeatedly over the
rough spots Il would be an hour $ ride to
the Shrrif's camp; but there would be
plenty Of time to get there before sunrise.
The fresh hoofmarks, readily noted here
and there bv his rangc-traincd eyes, would
lead him to the place. Up through the
straggly piipns his pony climbed steadily.
In the gray sky overhead al but few Of the