Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1916-11-15
% NTH i riile. Think they'll chase

ont OF the cottonwoods Duane and his
companion steadily drew farther away.
mo hosses In that bunch to worry
U.S." called out Stevens.
| Duane had the same conviction, and
he did not look back again. He rode
somewhat to the fore, and was con-
stantly aware Of the rapid thuddlng
Of hoofs behind, rs Stevens kept close
to him. AT sunset they reached the
willow brakes ana the river. Duane's
horse was winded and dashed with
sweat and lather. It was not until
| the crossing had been accomplished
that Duane halted b rest his animal.
Stevens was riding UP the low. sandy
bank. He reeled In the saddle. With
! an exclamation of surprise, Duane
leaped on and ran to the outlaws side.
Stevens was pale. and his face bore
beads Of sweat. The whole front Of
his shirt was soaked with blood.
.sYou're shot," cried Diane.
"Wal, who said wasn't? Would you
mind givin' me lift-on this here
! pack?'
Duane lifted the heavy pack down
and then helped Stevens to dismount.
The outlaw had bloody foam on his
Hips, and he was splitting blood.
'Oh, why didn't You say sow cried
Duane. II never thought. You seemed
all right"
"Wal, Luke Stevens may be as gabby
as m old woman, but sometimes he
doesn't say anythin'. 1t wouldn't have
done no good
Duane babe him sit down, removed
his shirt, and washed the blood from
his breast and back. Stevens had been
shot In the breast, fairly low down,
and the bullet had gone clear through
him. His ride, holding himself and
that heavy pack in the saddle, had
been feat little short of marvellous
Duane did not see how it had been
possible, and he felt no hope for the
| outlaw. But he plugged the wounds
and bound them tightly.
| "Feller's name was Brown" Stevens
said. ME an him fell out over boss
stole from him over In Huntsville.
We had shootin' scrape then. Wal,
as I was standin' my boss back there
In Mercer seen this Brown, an seen
him before he seen me. Could have
killed him. too. But wasn't breakin'
my word to you. / kind OF hoped he
wouldn't spot me. But he didan'
fust shot he got me here. What do
you think OF this hole?' 8
tits pretty bad replied Duane;
and he could not look the cheerful out
law In the eyes.
II reckon 1t Is. Wal, I've had some
bad wounds / lived over. Guess ,mebbe
/ can stand this. one. Now. Buck, get
me some place In the brakes. leave me
some grub an water ut my hand, an,
then you clear out
Leave you here alone?" asked Du-3
ane sharply.
"Shore. You see i can't keep up
with you. Brown an his friends will
foller us acrost the river ways.
You've got to think Of number one In
this game" .s.@
/ ~ WnaIl WONid you DO IN my caSeya
asked Duane curiously.
'sWnl, ] reckon I'd clear out an save
my hide. replied Stevens.
Duane felt inclined TO doubt the out
laws assertion. For his own part. he
| decided his conduct without further
speech. First he watered the horses,
| filed canteens and water bag, and then
tied the pack upon his own horse.
That done, he lifted Stevens upon his
horse md. holding him In the saddle,
turned into the brakes. being careful
to pick out hard or grassy ground that
left little signs of tracks. Just about
dark he ran across a trail that Ste
vens said was good one to take into
the wild country.
"Reckon we'd better keep right on
In the dark till Drop" continued
Stevens, with laugh.
All that night Duane, gloomy and
thoughtful, attentive to the wounded
outlaw, walked the trail and never
halted. Dawn caught the fugitiyes at;
a green camping site on the bank Of
a rocky little stream. Stevens fell a
dead weight into Duane's arms, and
one look at the haggard face showed
Duane that the outlaw had taken his
last ride. He knew it, too. Yet that
cheerfnlness prevailed.
"Buck. will you take Of my boots?"
he asked. with faint smile on his
pallid face.
Duane removed them, wondering If
the outlaw had the thought that he
did not want to die with his boots on.
Stevens seemed to read his mind.
Buck, my old daddy used to say.
tibet was born to be hanged. But ]
wasn't-an' dyin' with your boots on
Ills the next wust way to croak."
you've a chance to-to get over
this" said Duane. \. I.
ashore. But want to be correct
about the boots-an' say, pard, II I do
go over, Jest you remember tibet / was
appreciatin' your kindness"
This matter Of the outlaws boots
was strange, Duane thought He made
Stevens as comfortable as possible,
| then attended to his own needs. And
the outlaw took up the thread Of his
conversation where he had left OF tie
night before.
This trail splits up ways from
here, an every branch OF 1t leads to a
hole where you'li md men--a few,
mebbe, like yourself some like me
an gangs Of no-good boss thieves,
rustlers an such. It's easy Twin, Buck.