The Little River news., 1920-04-28
friend here down at the Legal Ten.

Have we got chance to make oul getaway" Mac asked.
 Davis nodded. "Slde out through across lots to the corral. We'll lock the door and I'll hold them here long as can.''
 Good boy. Slats. If there's neck. tie party you'll get the first bid,' Curly grinned. t=
 Slats looked at him, cold and steady Plainer than words he was telling his former friend that he would not joke with horse thief. For the sake of old times he would save him if he could. but he would call any bluffs about the whole thing being lark.
 Curly's eyes fell away. It came to him for the first time that he was no longer an honest man. Up till this escapade he had been only wild, but now he had crossed the line that sep arates decent folks from outlaws.
 Not another word was said while they hurried into their clothes. But as Curly passed out of the door he called back husk.iy. Wont forget what you done for us, Slats."
 Again their eyes met. Davis did not speak. but the chill look on his face told Flandrau that he had lost a friend.
 The two young men ran down the back stairs. passed through the kitch- en where a Chinese cook was getting breakfast, and out into the bright sum- light.
 Wont do to be in any hurry. The play Is we're gentlemen of leisure, just ent for an amble to get the mo'ning air." Curly cautioned.
 While they fed. watered and sad died they swapped gossip with the wrangler. It would not do to leavo the boy with a story of two riders in such a hurry to hit the trail that they could not wait to feed their bronchos. So they stuck 1t out while the animals ate. At that, they shaved 1t dns. for as they rode away two men were coming down the street
 Kite Bonfils," Curly called to his partner.
 No explanation was needed. Bon- fills was the foreman of the Bar Double M. He let out . shout as he caught sight of them and began to run forward. Simultaneously his gun seemed to jump from its holster.
 Macs quirt sang and his pony leaped to a canter in two strides. A bullet zipped between them. Another struck the dust at their heels. Faint ly there came to the fugitives the sound of the foreman's impotent curses. They had escaped for the time.
 Presently they passed the last barb wire fenSe and open country lay be- fore them. It did not greatly matter which direction they followed, 50 long as they headed into the desert.
 Neither of them had ever been in serious trouble before and both re- gretted the folly that had turned their drunken spree into q crime. They were stretched in front of the fire that evening trying to make smoke serve instead of supper. Mac broke . gloomy silence to grunt out jerkily a situa- tion he could no longer keep to him. self.
 Here's where get my walking pa pers, reckon. No rustlers need ap- ply"
 Curly shot a slant glance at him. "Meaning-the girl?"
 The red-headed puncher took from his coat pocket photograph and showed it to his friend. The sweet clean face of wholesome girl smiled at Curly.
 "She's ce'tainly right nice young lady. I'll bet she stands by you all right. Where's she live at?"
 "Waits in a restaurant at Tomb stone. We was going to be married soon as we had saved five hundred dol lars" Mac swallowed hard. And l had to figure out this short cut to the money whilst was drunk. As if shed look at money made that way"
 Curly tried to cheer him up. but did not make much of job at 1t. The in- disputable facts were that Mac was an outlaw and horse thief.
 The redheaded boy rolled another cigarette despondently. "Sho! I've cooked my goose. She'll not look at me even If they don't send me to the pen. And she's the best ever. Her names Myra Anderson"
 They slept under live oak with the soundness of healthy youth. For the time they forgot their troubles. Neither of them knew that ns the hours slipped away red tragedy was galloping closer to them.
 The sun was shining in his face when Curly wakened. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Mac was nowhere in sight. Probably he had gone to get the horses.
 A sound broke the stiffness of the desert. Flandrau leaped to his feet, and at the same instant Mac came running over the brow of the hill. A smoking revolver was in his hand.
 From behind the hill gun cracked then a secondhand a third Mac stumbled over his feet and pitched forward full length on the ground. His friend ran toward him, forgetting the