Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1916-12-22

his latter remark was significant to a
class of men who from inclination and
necessity practiced at gun-drawing I'M
til they wore callous and sore places
on their thumbs and inculcated in the
very deepS of their nervous organiza-
ton a habit that made even the sim
plest and most innocent motion of the
hand end at or near the hip. There
was something remarkable about a
gun-fghter'S hand. 1t never seemed to
be gloved, never to be injured, never
out of sight or in an awkward posi-
ton. Grizzled outlaws in that group,
some of whom had many notches on
their gun-handles, accorded Duane
silence that carried conviction of the
regard in which he was held.
"Orful hot, amt it?" remarked Bill
Black, presently. Bill could not keep
quiet for long. He was a typical
Texas desperado, had never been any
thing else. He was stoopshouldered
and bow-legged from much riding; a
wiry little man, all muscle, with q
square head hard face partly black
from scrubby beard and red from sun
and a bright, rowing, cruel eye. His
shirt was open at the neck, showing q
griZZled breast.
--LATEST outfit | ever rustled with,
went on Bill discontentedly. "Nuthin
to do! Say, if anybody wants to swim
maybe some of you'll gambler"
He produced dirty pack of cards
and waved them at the motionless
crowd.
"Bill, you're too good at cards." re-
piled a lanky outlaw.
'Now, Jasper, you say tibet power
full sweet, an you look sweet, err
might take it to heart" replied Black
with a sudden change Of tone.
Here it was again-that upfashing
passion. What Jasper saw fit to reply
would mollify the outlaw or it woulC
not. There was an even balance.
"No offense, Bill" said Jasper
placidly, without moving.
Bill grunted and forgot Jasper But
he seemed restless and dissatisfied.
Duane watching the disgruntled out
law, marveled at him and wondered
what was in his mind. These meT
were more variable than children, as
unstable as water, as dangerous as
dynamite.
bill, I'll bet you ten you can't spill
whateverS in the bucket tibet poems
packin'," said the outlaw called Jim
Blacks head came up with the &C
ton of hawk about to swoop.
Duane glanced from Black to the
road, where he saw crippled peor
carrying tin bucket toward the river
This peon was a half-witted IndiaI
who lived in a shack and did odd JOBS
for the Mexicans. Duane had met hin
often.
Jim, I'll take you up" replied
Black.
Something, perhaps a harshness IL
his voice, caused Duane to whirl. HI
caught leaping CLEAN in the outlaws
eye.
Jaw, Bill, thet's too fur a shot,
said Jasper, as Black rested an elbow
on his knee and sighted over the long
heavy Colt. The distance to the peol
was about fifty PAGES, too far for ever
the most expert shot to hit movin,
object so small as bucket.
Duane, marvelously keen in tn,
alignment of sights, was positive tina
Black held too high. Another look a
the hard face, now tense and darl
with blood, confirmed Duane's sus
| piciOn that the >utlaw was not aiming
at the bucket at Ill. Duane leapet
and struck the level gun out of hi
hand. Another outlaw picked 1t up.
Black fell back astounded. De
prived Of his weapon, he did not seen
the same man, or else he was cove,
by Duane's significant and formidabl
front. Sullenly he turned away with
out even asking for his gun.