The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1916-09-21

he Hnu never seen one. dis Irleuu
reluctance and refusal to state for
what particular deed this reward was
offered reused Duanes curiosity.
Abruptly he decided to ride over there
and find out who wanted him dead or
alive, and why.
Toward Afternoon, from the top of
| long hill, Duane saw the green fields
and trees and shining roofs Of town
he considered must be Shirley. And at
the bottom of the hill he came upon
an intersecting road. There was
placard nailed on the cross-road sign
post. Duane drew rein near 1t and
leaned close to read the faded print.
ISL 900 REWARD FOR BUCK
DUANE DEAD OR ALIVE" Peering
closer to read the finer, more faded
print, Duane learned that he was want
ed for the murder Of Mrs. Jeff Aiken
at her ranch near Shirley. The month
September was named, but the date
was illegible The reward was offered
by the woman's husband, whose name
appeared with that Of a sheriff's at
the bottom of the placard.
Duane read the thing twice. When
he Strengthened he was sick with the
! horror of his fate, wild with passion
at those misguided fools who could
believe that he had harmed woman
A dark, passionate fury possessed
him. 1t shook him like storm shakes
the oak. When it passed, leaving him
cold, with clouded brow and piercing
eye, him mind was set. Squirting his
horse, he rode straight toward the
village.
Shirley appeared to be a large, pre-
| tentious country town. A branch OF
some railroad terminated there. Inc
main street was wide, bordered by
trees and commodious houses, and
many Of the stores were Of brick. A
large plaza shaded by giant cotton
wood occupied central location.
Duane pulled his running horse and
halted him, plunging and snorting, be-
fore a group Of idle men who lounged
on benches in the shade Of a spread
ing cottonwood. How many times had
Duane seen just that kind OF lazy
shirt-sleeved Texas group! Not often,
however, had he seen such placid,
lolling, good-natured men change their
expression, their attitude so swiftly.
His advent apparently was momentous.
They evidently took him for an UNI
usual visitor. So far as Duane could
TELL not one of them recognized him,
had hint of his identity.
He slid off his horse and threw the
bride.
"I'm Buck Duane" he said. II saw
that placard-out there on a sign-post.
It's a damn lie! Somebody find this
man Jeff Aiken. 1 want to see him."
His announcement was taken in alb
solute silence. That was the only
effect he noted, for he avoided looking
at these villagers. The reason was
simple enough; Duane felt himself
overcome with emotion. There were
tears in his eyes. He sat down on
bench, put his elbows on his knees
and his hands to his face. For once
he had absolutely no concern for his
fate This ignominy was the last
straw.
Presently, however, he became
aware Of some kind Of cOmmotion
among these villagers. He heard
whispering, low, hoarse voices, then
the shuttle Of rapid feet moving away.
All at once violent hand jerked his
gun from it's holster. When Duane
rose a gaunt man, livid Of face, shak-
ing like q leaf, confronted him with
his own gun.
Hands up, thar, you Buck Duane"
he roared, waving the gun.
That appeared to be the cue for
pandemonium to break loose. Several
men lay hold of his arms and pinioned
them behind his back. Resistance was
useless even if Duane had had the
spirit. One Of them fetched his
halter from his saddle, and with this
they bound him helpless.
People were running now from the
street, the stores, the houses. Old
men, cowboys, clerks, boys, ranchers
came on the trot. The crowd grew.
The increasing clamor began to at
tract women as we'll as men. A group
of girls ran up, then hung back in
fright and pity.
The presence Of cowboys made a
difference. They split up the crowd,
got to Duane, and lay hold of him
with rough, businesslike hands. One
of them lifted his fists and roared at
the frenZied mob to fall back, TO stop
the racket. He beat them back into
circle; but it was some little time be-
fore the hubbub quoted down so
voice could be heard.
shut up, will you-all?" he was
Yelling. "Give us a chance to hear
somethin'. Easy now-soho. There
amt nobody goin' to be hurt. Thet's
right; everybody quiet now. Let's see
what's come Off"
This cowboy, evidently one of
authority, or at least one of strong
personality, turned to the gaunt man.
who still waved Duane's gun.
"Abe, put the gun down." he said.
1T might go off. Here, give it to me.
Now, what's wrong? Who's this roped
gent, an what's he done?"
The gaunt fellow, who appeared now
about to collapse, lifted a shaking
hand and pointed.
"Thet thar feller-he'S Buck
Duane" he painted.
An angry murmur ran through the
surrounding crowd.
L