The Ozark spectator., 1916-09-09

 heart. Think of the terrible nature of a man, to be able to do that. If you have any such blood in you, never give it a chance"
 What you say is all very well, uncle," returned Duane, but the only do it. Cal Bain and his outfit have already made me look like q coward"
 Well, then, what're you goin' to do?" inquired the elder man.
 'I haven't decided-yet."
 NO, but you're comin' to it mighty fast. That terrible spell is workin' in you. You're gettin' cool an quiet, an you think deep, an I don't like the light in your eye. It reminds me of your father"
 T wonder what dad would say to me today if he were alive and here." said Duane.
 "What do you think? What could you expect of man who never wore glove on his right hand for twenty years?"
 Well, he'd hardly have said much. Dad never talked. But he would have done lot. And I guess I'll go down. town and let Cal Bain find me-"
 Then followed long silence, dur ing which Duane sat with dOwncast eyes, and the uncle appeared lost in sad thought of the future. Presently he turned to Duane with an expression that denoted resignation, and yet a spirit which showed wherein they were of the same blood.
 You've got a fast hOrse-the fast est I know of in this country. After you meet Bain hurry back home. I'll have saddlebag packed for you and the horse ready"
 With that he turned on his heel and went into the house, leaving Duane to revolve in his mind his singular speech. That hour of Duane's life was like years of actual living, and in it he became a thoughtful man.
 He went into the house and inspect ed his belt and gun. The gun was a Colt .45 six-shot, and heavy, with an ivory handle. He had packed it, on and off, for five years. Before that it had been used by his father. There were a number of notches filed in the bulge of the ivory handle. This gun was the one his father had fired twice after being shot through the heart, and his hand had stiffened so tightly upon 1t in the death-grip that his fin gers had to be pried open. It had never been drawn upon any man since it had come into Duane's possession. But the cold, bright polish of the weapon showed how it had been used. Duane could draw it with inconceiv- able rapidity, and at twenty feet he could split a card pointing edgewise toward him.
 Duane wished to avoid meeting his mother. Fortunately, as he thought, she was away from home. He went out and down the path toward the gate. The air was full of the fra grance of blossoms and the melody of birds. Outside in the road n neighbor woman stood talking to a countryman in a wagon; they spoke to him; and he heard, but did not reply. Then he began to stride down the road toward the town.
 Wellston was a small town, but i'm portant in that unsettled part of the great state because it was the trading center of several hundred miles of ter ritory. On the main street there were perhaps fifty buildings, some brick, uA third of the lot and by far the most prosperous, were saloons. Duane's eye ranged down the street, taking in all at glance. By the time he reached Sol Whites place, which was the first saloon, he was walking slowly. Sev- eral people spoke to him and turned to look back after they had passed. He paused at the door of Whites sa- loon, took sharp survey of the inte- rior, then stepped inside.
 The saloon was large and cool, full of men and noise and smoke. The noise ceased upon his entrance. and the silence ensuing presently broke to the clink of Mexican silver dollars at n monte table. All eyes except those of the Mexican gamblers were turned upon Duane. Several of the cowboys and ranchers present exchanged glances. Duane had been weighed by unerring Texas instinct, by men who all packed guns. The boy was the son of his father. Whereupon they greeted him and returned to their drinks and cards. Sol White stood with his big, red hands out upon the bar; he was tall, rawboned Texan, with a long mustache waxed to sharp points,
 "Howdy. Buck" was his greeting to Duane. He spoke carelessly and avert ed his dark gaze for an instant.
 ''Howdy, Sol,' replied Duane, slowly Say, Sol. hear there's a gent in town looking for me bad'
 "Reckon there is, Buck" replied White. "He came in heah aboot an hour ago. Shore he was some Tiled an a-roarin' for gore. Told me confi-