Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1916-01-07

reply. But 1t don't look like thar was
d soul in the house."
felt her hand touch mine softly,
and bent my head until her lips were
at my ear.
That was Anse Cowan," she whis-
pered. Il recognize that voice. What
do you suppose they will do now?"
My fingers frightened their grip; the
men below had moved on, their voices
grumbling along the hall.
They will discover the preacher
presently" / said, endeavoring to make
my words as reassuring as possible. Il
only wonder they have overlooked him
so long; supposed he would make an
cutlery"
She drew in her breath sharply, and
sat up. The movement was noiseless,
but in the instant of intense silence
which followed, we heard below us the
sudden sound of struggle, a muffied
voice calling for mercy, the shutting
OF body being hauled forward across
the floor. Then someone ran along the
hall, passing just beneath us.
What have you found, Kelly?" It
was Anse's voice roaring out the ques
ton. "Ahi the old fox dug out OF his
hole, hey! Now see here, you canting
old Baptist hypocrite. what kind of a
trick is 1t you are playing on me?
Stand him up there boys, against that
rail. Stop your bowling, or I'll smash
you one in the face. Where did you
find the fool, Jack?"
Locked in a closet yonder; looks
like it might be the girls room. The
darn fool is too skeered ter talk yet"
We'll, I'll make him, or else thar'll
be dead preacher in bout minute.
/ reckon as how I'll do as much skeer-
ing as anyone. Now, Nichols, ye see
tibet! Whut the devil wus yer doing
in tibet closet?"
"They-they done put me thar.
Anse."
go on. Who wus we're beside the
girl when yer cum?"
"A Yankee leftenant, a cavalryman
l reckon from Their yellow stripes on
his legs"
"A Yankl Did yer hear the fellar's
manner"
Damn If I'm sure; he's right good
sized man, an not bad lookin' Pears
to me, now think of it, she called him
Raymond"
There was q gasping sound as
though Anse's hand had closed again
heavily on the fellows throat.
4.
me, parson. Yer heard tell o. tibet fell
Ter over in camp, an Their name stuck
'Twont be healthy fer yer ter play no
game yere."
i amt, Anse. Quit a chokin' me.
never heard tell o. no Yank named
Raymond afore. BE thar one round
yere?"
Wall. thar was, but don't reckon
thar is now" doubtfully. Last |
heerd tell O. him he wus over in Fay
cite a ridin' like hell fer Charleston
Monte's band picked him up, an he
didn't find this kentry none too healthy
fer his line O. business, which was re-
cruitin'-whut's that, Kelly?"
Better let Their preacher tell his
story, Anse We're losin' lot o. time;
| reckon thar must a bin some kind o.
male critter we're; faint likely Their
girl locked him up alone, an II don't
make no odds whut the Yank's name
was, nohow."
Go on, Nichols; whut happened?
Tell us the whole of it, but make 1t
short"
The preacher drew in long breath.
evidently relieved to have the pressure
Of Anse's murderous fingers removed
from his throat. He sputtered bit as
he began to tell his story and there
were mutfled words we could not dis
tinguish. Occasionally someone of his
auditors interrupted with an oath, or
exclamation. He spoke faster as he
proceeded, as though feeling less fear,
and eager to have the task over. Final
ly CoWan interjected brief question.
you damn coward! Did you tell?"
Honest, Anse, | don't jest know;
but reckon did spit 1t most out, fer
he'd killed me If hadn't"
do you mean to say you told them
was comm yere tonight, an goin, fer
ter make the girl marry me-yor
whinin cur?"
How could help it, Anse? reckon
If tibet Teller he'd pistol ct your head
you'd a did some talkin'. Maybe he's
recruitin' officer but he amt no
sorter man ter fool with onct he gifts
mad"
Well, I'd sure like fer ter know who
he is. He can't be Their Teller what got
away from Monte, fer he lit out fer
Charleston. How did this we're teller
git yere-on horseback"
Il didn't git sight o. no boss; thar
wus only one four-legged critter in
Their barn, an reckon as how the girl
must hev' rode thet."
Say. Anse." broke in the voice of
Kelly, "I'll bet this Yank is the one
tibet wus with Fox, an got away. He'd
he'd time 'nough fer ter git this fer on
fut."
But what does he call hisself Ray
mond fer?"
Damn II know-maybe he Jest
heerd tell of the other Teller, an.
thought as how he'd git long easier
under tibet name"
We'll, | reckon 1t won't make much
difference whut the cuss' name is II
ever | git my hands on him." growled
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