Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1916-09-27

so, then camp out near here till l come
back"
"Why?"
WAL, because there amt any use fer
you to git in bad, too. The gang will
ride e here any day. If they're
friendly I'll light a fire on the hill here,
say three nights from tonight. Ii you
don't see it tibet night you hit the trail.
I'll do VIA l a Jim Fletcher sticks
to his pals. So long, Dodge"
Then he rode away.
He left Duane in a.quandry. This
news was black. Things had been work.
ing out SO we'll. Here was a setback. At
the ome Duane did not know which
way to turn, but certainly he nae no
idea of going back to Bradford. Friction
between the two great li%eutenants Of
Cheseldine! Open hostility between one
of them and another of the chiefs
righthand men. Among outlaws that
sort of thing was deadly serious. Gen
orally such matters were settled with
guns. Duane gathered encouragement
even from disaster. Perhaps the disin-
tegration of Cheseldine's great band
had already begun. But what did knell
know? Duane did not circle around the
idea with doubts and hopes; if Knell
knew anything it was that this stranger
in Ord, this new partner of Fletcher's,
was no less than Buck Duane.
Well, it was about time thought Duane,
titl ne maze use OIL ms name IL IL were
to help him at all. That name had
been MacNally's hope. He had nch
ored all his scheme to Duane's fame.
Duane was tempted to ride off after
Fletcher and stay with him. This, how
ever. would hardly be fair to an out
law who a been fair to him. Duane
concluded to await developments and
when the gang rode in to Ord, prob
ably from their various hiding places,
he would be there ready to be de-
bounced by knell. Duane could not see
any other elimination of this series of
events than a meeting between Knell
and himself. If that terminated fatally
for knell there was all probability Of
Duane's being in no worse situation
than he was now. If Poggin took up
the quarrel! Here Duane accused him
self again-tried in vain to revol from
a Judgment that he was only reason
ing out EXCUSES to meet these outlaws.
Meanwhile, instead of waiting, why
not hunt up Cheseldine in his mountain
retreat? The thought no DON struck
Duane tina he was hurrying for his
horse.
He left Ord ostensibly toward Brad
ford. but once out of sight, he turned
Off the road, circled through the brush,
and several miles south of town he
struck a narrow grass-grown trail that
Fletcher had told him led to Chesel-
dimes am The horse tracks along this
trail We're not less han a week old, and
very likely much more. 1t u be-
tween low, Undiscovered foothills.
through arroyos and gullies lined with
mesquite. cottonwood, and scrub-oak.
In an hour Duane struck the slope Of
Mount Ord, and as he climbed he got
a view of the rolling, black spotted
country, partly desert, partly fertile,
with long. bright lines of dry stream
beds winding ava to grow dim in the
ticfannn I1n onf n ,n all ,.na1rc
and cliffs n here the open, downward
rolling land disappeared, and he was
hard put to it to find the trail. He lost
il repeatedly and made slow progress.
Finally he climbed into a region of all
rock benches, rough here, smooth there,
with only an occasional scratch of iron
horseshoe to guide him. Many times he
had 70 go ahead and then work to right
or left till he found his way again. 1t
was slow work; it took all day;
night found him halfway up the noun
tain. He halted at a little s~ide-canon
with grass and water. and here he made
camp. The night was clear and COO at
that height, with a dark blue sky and a
streak of stars blinking across. With
this day of action behind him he felt
better satisfied than he had been for
some time. Here, on this venture, he
was answering to a call that had so
often directed his movements, perhaps
his life. and it was on that logic or in
telligence could take little stock of. And
on this night, lonely like the ones he
used to spend in the Nueces gorge, and
memorable of them because of a like
ness to that old hiding-place. he felt the
pressing return Of old haunting things
dead faces-and the places OF these
We're taken by one quiveringly alive.
white. tragic, with it's dark. intent,
speaking eyes-Eay Longstreth's.
Is That last memory he yielded to until
he slept.
In the morning, satisfied that he had
left still fewer tracks than he had fol-
lowed up this trail, ne led his horse UP
to the head of the anon. there a narrow
crack in low cliffs. and with branches
Of cedar fenced him in. Then he went
back and took up the trail on foot.
Without the horse he made better
time and climbed through deep clefts,
wide canons over ridges. up shelving
slopes, along precipices-a long, hard
climb-till he reached what he con
cluded was a divide. Going down was
easier. though the farther he followed
this dim and winding trail the wider the
broken battlements of rock. Above him
he saw the black fringe of pinon and
pine. and above that the bold peak,
bare. yellow. like q desert butte. Once.
through a wide gateway between great
escarpments. he saw the lower country
UcyOlO tNc TdlSS, dIu UcyOuO IHlSs VAST
and clear at 1t lay in his sight, was
the great river that made the Big Bend.
He went down and down, wondering
how a horse could follow that broken
trail. believing there must De another
better one somewhere into C~heseldine's
hiding place.
He rounded a Jutting corner. where
view had been shut off, and presently
came out upon the rim of a high wall.
Beneath, luke q green gulf seen through
in on'the Two sides he could see. Il lay
perhaps 1000 feet below him: and. plain