The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1920-01-22

/ But Buck would not have it that
way. "What about him?" he demand
ed out loud, his voice grating like
steel when it grinds.
"Is he-how is he doing?"
| whats eatin' you? Amt he dying
| fast enough to suit you?''
Flandrau shrank from the cruel
words, as a schoolboy does from his
teacher when he jumps at him with a
| cane.
1t was then that Maloney made a
friend of the young man for life. He
let hand drop carelessly on Curly's
shoulder and looked at him with a
| friendly smile in his eyes, just as if
he knew that this was no wolf but a
poor dog up against it hard.
doc thinks he'll make it all right"
But there were times when Curly
wondered whether it would make any
difference to him whether Cullison got
well or not. Something immediate was
in the air. Public opinion was sitting
down to a decision. Most of these men
were UP to the average for the milk
Of human kindness. They were the
squarest citizens in Arizona. But Elan
drau knew they would snuff out his
life just the same if they decided it
was best. Afterward they might re-
greet it, but that would not help him.
Darkness came, and the lamps were
lit. Again Curly ate and smoked and
chatted little with his captors. But
as he sat there hour after hour, feel
ing death creep closer every minute,
cold shivers ran up and down his spine.
They began to question him, at first
casually and carelessly, so it seemed
to Curly. But presently he discerned
a drift in the talk. They were trying
to find out who had been his partners
in the rustling.
"And / reckon Soapy and Bad Bill
left you lads at Saguache to hold the
SACK" Buck suggested sympathetically.
Curly grew wary. He did not intend
to betray his accomplices. wrong
guess. Soapy and Bad Bill weren't in
this DEAL" he answered easily.
The foreman of the Bar Double M
interrupted impatiently, tired of trying
to pump out the information by
finesse. you've got to speak, Elan
drau. You've got to tell us who was
engineering this theft. Understand"
The young rustler looked at the
grim frowning face and his heart sank.
"Out with it," ordered Buck.
ooh, 1 expect I'll keep that under
my hat" Curly told them lightly.
They were crowded about him in a
half circle, nearly a score of hard
leather-faced plainsmen. Some of
them were riders of the Circle G out
fit. Others had ridden over from
neighboring ranches. All of them
plainly meant business.
''Think again, Curly" advised Swee-
about this thing. They mean to find
out who was in the rustling of the Bar
Double M stock"
mot through me, they won't"
Through you. And right now"
A dozen times during the evening
Curly had crushed down the desire to
beg for mercy, to cry out desperately
for them to let him off. He had kept 4
telling himself not to show yellow,
that it would not last long. Now the
fear of breaking down sloughed from
his soul He rose from the bed and
looked round at the brown faces cir
cled about him in the shine of the
lamps.
thing"
He stood there chalk-faced, his lips
so dry that he had to keep moistening
them with the tip of his tongue.
Dutch had a new rope in his hand
with loop at one end. He tossed it
over the boys head and drew it taut.
Two or three of the faces in the circle
were almost as bloodless as that of
the prisoner, but they were set to see
the thing out.
"Will you tell now?" Bonfils asked.
Curly met him eye to eye. "No."
"COme along, then"
One of the men caught his arm at
the place where he had been wounded.
The rustler flinched.
Careful, Buck. Don't you see you're
hurting his bad arm?'' Sweeney said |
sharply.
81 didn't aim to hurt him." Buck de- |
Tended himself.
Curly's senses had never been more |
alert He noticed that Buck had on a !
red necktie that had got loose from his |
shirt and climbed up his neck 1t had |
black polka dots and was badly frayed. |
Sweeney was chewing tobacco. He |
would have that chew in his mouth |
after they had finished what they were |
going to do.
Saint he the gamest ever?" some |
one whispered.
The rustler heard the words and |
they braced him as a drink of whisky |
does a man who has been on a bad |
spree.
Better do it at the cottonwoods |
down by the creek" Buck told Bonfils |
In a low voice.
The foreman of the Bar Double. M |