The Benson signal., 1917-01-06
CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXI.
Duane had decided to go to Ord
and try to find the rendezvous where
Longstreth was to meet his men.
These men Duane wanted even more
than their leader. 1t was Poggin who
needed to be found and stopped.
Poggin and his right-hand men!
The night of the day before he
reached Bradford. No. 6, the mail and
express train going east, was held up
by train-robberies, the Wells-Fargo
messenger killed over his safe, the
mail-clerk wounded, the bags carried
away. The engine No. 6 came into
town minus even tender, and en-
gineer and fireman told conflicting
stories. A posse of railroad men and
citizens, led by a sheriff Duane sus-
pected was crooked, was made up be-
fore the engine steamed back to pick
up the rest of the train. Duane had
the sudden inspiration that he had
been cudgeling his mind to find; and,
acting upon it, he mounted his horse
again and left Bradford unobserved.
He rode at an easy trot most Of
the night, selected an exceedingly
rough, roundabout, and difficult course
to Ord, hid his tracks with the skill
of a 1Ong-hunted fugitive, and arrived
there with his horse winded and COW
cred with lather. 1t added consider
able to his arrival that the man
Duane remembered as Fletcher and
several others saw him come in the
back way through the lots and jump
a fence into the road.
Duane led Bullet up to the porch
where Fletcher stood wiping his
beard. He was hatless, vestless, and
evidently had just enjoyed a morning
drink.
"Howdy, Dodge" said Fletcher,
laeonically.
Duane replied, and the other man
returned the greeting with interest:
"Jim, my boss s done up. 1 want
to hide him from any chance tourists
as might happen to ride up curious
like"
"Haw! haw! haw"
Duane gathered encouragement
from that chorus of coarse laughter.
"Wal, if them tourists amt too
burned smoky the boss III be safe
in the 'dobe shack back of Bills here.
Feed thar, too, but you'll hev to rus
tie water"
Duane led Bullet to the place indi
Gated, had care of his welfare, and
left him there. Upon returning to
the tavern porch Duane saw the group
of men had been added to by others,
some of whom he had seen before.
Without comment Duane walked
along the edge Of the road, and wher-
ever one of the tracks Of his horse
showed he carefully obliterated it.
This procedure was attentively
watched by Fletcher and his COM
panions.
"Wal, Dodge" remarked Fletcher,
as Duane returned, "thet's safer n
prayin' fer rain"
Duane'S reply was remark as
loquacious as Fletcher's, to the effect
that a long, slow, monotonous ride
was conducive to thirst. They all.
joined him, Enthusiastically friendly.
But Knell was not there, and most
assuredly not Poggin. Fletcher was
no common outlaw, but, whatever his
ability, it probably lay in execution
Of orders. Apparently at that time
these men had nothing to do but
drink and lounge around the tavern.
Duane set out to make himself agree
able and succeeded. All morning men
came and went, until, all told, Duane
calculated he had seen at least fifty.
Toward the middle of the afternoon
young fellow burst into the saloon
and yelled one word:
"Posse!"
From the scramble to get outdoors
Duane judged that word and the en-
suing action was rare in Ord.
whats all this?" muttered Fletch-
er, as he gazed down the road at a
dark, compact bunch of horses and
riders. |'Fust time / ever seen thet
in Ordl Wish Phil was here or Peggy.
Now all you gents keep quiet. I'll do
the talkin'."
The posse entered the town. trotted