The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1916-08-10
1.-THE, LONE, STAR RANGER
This is atuu about the Texas Plains PEOPLE BIZ ZANE GREY
Bu ZANE GREY

| Still in his heart he did not believe
what he hoped. But he would not give
up; he would not accept the ghost of
his victim as a reality. ,4
Gray dawn found him in the saddle
again, headed for the river. Half an
hour of riding brought him to the
dense chaparral and willow thickets.
These he threaded to come at length
to the ford. Once upon the opposite
shore, he refined in his horse and
looked darkly back. This action
marked his acknowledgment of his sit
uatiOn: he had voluntarily sought the
refuge of the outlaws; he was beyond
the pale.
The trail led into road which was
hard packed and smooth from the
tracks Of cattle. He doubted not that
he had come across one of the roads
used by border raiders. He headed
into it@a and had scarcely travelled a
mile when, turning curve, he came
point-blank upon single horseman
riding toward him. Both riders wheeled
their mounts sharply and were ready
to run and shoot back. Not more than
hundred PAGES separated them. They
stood then for a moment watching
each other.
'Mawnin', stranger" called the man,
dropping his gun to his hip.
"Howdy," replied Duane shortly.
They rode toward each other, clos
ing half the gap, then they halted
again.
II seen you amt no ranger" called
the rider, "an' shore / amt none."
He laughed loudly, as if he had
made joke.
How'd you know I B wasn't a
ranger" asked Duane curiously. Some
how he had instantly OWNED that this
hOrSeman was no officer, or even a
rancher trailing stolen stock.
"Wal," said the fellow, starting his
horse forward at walk, "a ranger'd
never git ready to run the other way
from one man."
He laughed again. He was small
and wiry, slouchy of attire, and armed
to the teeth, and he bestrode a fine
bay horse. He had quick, dancing
brown eyes, at once frank and bold,
and coarse, bronzed face. Evidently
he was good-natured ruffian.
Duane acknowledged the truth of
the assertion, and turned over in his
mind how shrewdly the fellow had
guessed him to be hunted man.
"My names Luke Stevens, an hail
from the river. Who're you?" said
this stranger.
Duane was silent.
81 reckon you're Buck Duane" went
on Stevens. 81 heerd you was a bad
man with a gum"
This time Duane laughed, not at the
doubtful compliment, but at the idea
that the first outlaw he met should
know him. Here was proof of how
swiftly facts about gun-play Travelled
on the Texas border.
"Wal, Buck" said Stevens, in a
friendly manner, II amt presumin' on
your time or company. I see you're
headin' fer the river. But will you
stop long enough to stake a Teller to
a bite of grub?"
"I'm out of grub and pretty hungry
myself" admitted Duane.
"Been pushin' your boss, see. Wal,
I reckon you'd better stock up before
you hit tibet stretch Of country"
He made wide sweep Of his right
arm, indicating the southwest, and
there was that in his action which
seemed significant Of a vast and bar
rem region.
"Stock up?" queried Duane, thought
fully.
ashore. A Teller has jest got to eat.
can rustic along without whisky, but
not without grub. Thet's what makes
it so embarrassin' travelin' these parts
dodgin' your shadow. Now, I'm on my
way to Mercer. It's a little twO-bit
town up the river ways. I'm goin'
to pack out some grub"
Stevens tone was inviting. Evident
ly he would welcome Duane's compan-
ionship, but he did not openly say so.
Duane kept silence, however, and then
Stevens went on.
stranger, in this here country two's
crowd. It's safer. never was much