The Huttig news., 1916-11-25

along the cage or the road, ana Wner- ever one Of the tracks of his horse showed he carefully obliterated it. This procedure was attentively watched by Fletcher and his com- panions.
 Wal, Dodge" remarked Fletcher, as Duane returned, 'thet's safer n prayin' fer rain."
 Duane's reply was a remark as loquacious as Fletcher's to the effect that a long, slow, monotonous ride was conducive to thirst They all joined him, unmistakably friendly. But Knell was not there, and most assuredly not Poggin. Fletcher was no common outlaw, but, whatever his ability. it probably lay in execution of orders. Apparently at that time these men had nothing to do but drink and lounge around the tavern. Duane set ont 10 make himself agree able and succeeded. All morning men came and went, until, all told Duane calculated he had seen at least fifty. Toward the middle of the afternoon a young fellow burst into the saloon end yelled one word:
 Posse !'
 From the scramble to get outdoors Duane judged that word and the en- suing action was rare in Ord.
 What's all this?" muttered Fetch CT, as he gaZed down the road at dark, compact bunch of horses and riders. "Fust time I ever seen thet in Ord Wish Phil was here or Peggy. Now all you gents keep quiet I'll do the talkin'.'
 The posse entered the town, trotted mp on the dusty horses, and halted in bunch before the tavern. The party consisted about twenty men, all heavily armed, and evidently in charge of clean-cut, lean-limbed cowboy. Duane experienced consider able satisfaction at the absence of the sheriff who he had understood was to lead the posse. Perhaps he was out in another direction With a differ ent force.
 Hello, Jim Fletcher" called the cowboy.
 ''Howdy," replied Fletcher.
 At this short, dry response and the way he strode leisurely out before the posse Duane found himself modifying his contempt for Fletcher. The out law was different now.
 Fletcher, we've tracked man to all but three miles of this place. Tracks as plain as the nose on your fopn Fnt1nH hic Thor, ha hif into the brush, an We lost the trail. Didn't have no tracker with us. Think he went into the mountains. But We took chance an rid over the rest of the way, seein' Ord was so close. Anybody come in here late last night or early this mornin'?"
 "Nope," replied Fletcher
 His response was what Duane hai expected from his manner, and evi dently the cowboy took it as matter of course. He turned to the others of the posse, entering into a low con- sultation. Evidently there was differ ence of opinion, if not real dissension, in that posse.
 'Didn't 1 tell ye this was wild
 
 protested an old hawk-faced rancher. 'Them hoss tracks we follored ain't like any of them we seen at the water-tank where the train was held up"
 ''Fm not sure of that" replied the l leader.
 Wal. Guthrie, I've follored tracks all my life-'
 "But you couldn't keep to the trail this feller made in the brush"
 "Gimme time, an I could. Thet takes time. An heah you go hell-bent for election, But it's wrong lead out this way. If you're right, this road-agent, after he killed his pals, would hey rid back right through town. An with them mailbags, Supposin' they was greasers? Some greasers has sense. an when it comes to thiev. in they're shore cute"
 "But We ain't got any reason to be- lieve this robber who murdered the greaSers is a greaser himself. I tell you it was slick job, done by no ordinary sneak. Didn't you hear the facts? One greaser hopped the engine an covered the engineer an fireman. Another greaser kept flashin his gun outside the train. The big man who showed back the car door an did the killin'-he was the real gent, an don't you forget it."
 Some of the posse sided with the cowboy leader and some with the old cattleman. Finally the young leader disgustedly gathered up his bridle.
 'Aw, hell, Thet sheriff showed you off this trail. Mebbe he he'd reason 1! Savvy thet? If I he'd bunch of cow boys with mel tell you what, I'd take chance and clean up this hole!'
 All the while Jim Fletcher stood quietly with his hands in his pockets.
 Guthrie. I'm shore treasnrin' up your friendly talk" he said The menace was in the tone. not the con- tent of his speech.
 You can--an' be damned to you, Fleteher!" called Guthrie. as the