The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1917-06-07

I've been trying to think" she re-
turned, and he perceived in the hard |
ness of her voice how at bay she felt |
In giving him the least bit of infor-
nation, whether l ought TO tell you
anything at all"
II couldn't very decently take any
unfnir advantage after what you've
done, could IL
"Then-you are in Morgan's gap"
she said, swiftly, as If she wanted ii
or her mind.
There was no movement of surprise,
neither was there any answer. 81
supposed, when / found you here, you
knew that" she added less resolutely
the darkness and silence were plainly
n strain. "You are at the foot of Mu-
sic mountain, about mile from where
live"
| "You must have thought / meant to
raid your house. l didn't. l was hit.
1 got mixed up in trying to get away.
You want me out of here?"
"very much"
mo more than / want to get out.
Perhaps by tomorrow could walk n
few miles. l should have to assassi-
nate somebody to get some ammuni-
ton"
ut wouldn't be hard for you to do
that, l presume"
Her words and her tone revealed the
intensity of her dislike and the depth
of her distrust.
lie was silent for n moment. Then
h. al ,..tt
ashamed already Of saying that, aren't
youT
'No, / am not" she answered de-
family.
"Yes, you are. You know 1t isn't
true. Ii you believed It, you never
would have brought food here to save
my life"
II brought II TO save some OF my
own people from possible death at
| your hands-to prevent another fight
to see II you hadn't manhood enough
after being helped, to go away, when
1 you were able TO move, peaceably. One
> cartridge might mean one life, dear
= to me-"
: 81 know whose life you mean"
you know nothing about. what
i mean."
G II know better than you know your
self. If / believed you, / shouldn't
respect you. Fear and mercy are two
4 different things. If l thought you
z We're only afraid of me, l shouldn't
u think much of your nld. LISTEN
It never took the life of any man except
g to defend my own"
y "No murderer that ever took any
/, body's life in this country ever salt
i anything but that"
| Don't class me with murderers."
"You are known from one end of tn,
! country to the other as "a gunman."
He answered impassively: ''Dit
| these men who call me a gunman ever
| tell you why I'm one?" She seemed
| In too hostile n mood to answer. 81
| guess not" he went on. ''Let me tel
II you now. The next time you hear m,
called n gunman you can tell them
| 81 won't listen," she exclaimed, res
tive.
"Yes, you will listen" he said qui
city: 'you shall hear every word NJ!
father brought sheep into the Peace
river country, The cattlemen picket
| ON him TO make an example of. Il'
went out, unarmed, one night to TAX,
care of the horses. My mother hear,
| two shots. He didn't come back. Sh
went to look for him. He was lynn
undar the corral gate with hol,
sms shed through his jaw by n riff
bullet that tore his head half or. ID,
Spain did not raise his voice, nor di'
he hasten his words. II was borl
one night six months after that" h
continued. "My mother died tina
j night. When nelghbor's wife tool
l. me from her arm and wrapped me In
blanket, she saw l carried the fac
of my father as my mother had see
] 1t the night he was murdered. That,
he said, 'is what made me 'gunman
n. Not whlsky-not women-not cards
Just what you've heard. And I'll tel
II you something else you may tell tn
I'd men that call me O gunman. The ma
ty that shot down my father ut his CORA
gate haven't found yet. l expect /
er find him. For ten years I've been get
,g ting ready to find him. He is here
It In these mountains. ! don't eve
or know his name. But II live, I'll lin
him. And when do. III tear open hi