White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1932-07-14
CHAPTER v
Enemies Meet

the lax D0dy.
Wilson Mccain waited for the first
emotional outburst to spend itself.
This was no place for him. He knew
that. The drumming hoofs of his
horse should be putting miles between
him and the scene of this tragedy. But
he had something to tell her, as soon
as she was in q condition to listen
Besides, he could not leave her alone
with her dead while she was still
hysterical.
A twig snapped. Instantly Mccain
stiffened to alert and crouched wari-
ness. The weapon in his hand shifted
ever so little, but that scarcely per-
ceptible movement meant that he was
ready. His eyes searched the chapar-
raj foot by foot.
At once Mccain moved swiftly so as
to place the girls horse between him
and that shining tube of steel.
Out of the brush face peered,
searching the landscape. The shifting
eyes found in the same instant of time
both Mccain and the grief-stricken
girl, and a second later the supine fig
ure over which her grief was spending
itself.
Julia had looked up when Mccain
ran for the shelter of the horses body.
She glanced round quickly, caught
sight Of the cleaning gun barrel, and
rose hurriedly.
"Look out, Phil. He's killed Dad"
she cried, in panic Of terror.
Without thought for her own
safety she ran straight across the open
toward the mesquite thicket to protect
her brother.
A shot rang out. Mccain crumpled
up behind the horse. Julia heard her
self cry out, and even in that moment
of fear felt sense of puzzled won
der. For she had been looking at Phil
and she was sure he had not fired.
Phil dragged her down behind him.
"He's layin' trap for me-" he told
her, almost in whisper.
But Julia, looking over his shoulder,
knew this could not be. For the mans
head lay in the sand, his rifle six feet
away by the fall.
Again there came the crack of
rifle.
Hes dead, but you didn't Shoot" she
murmured, Mortified.
Cant be dead" the boy answered.
"How can he?"
"Some one shot-and neither you
nor he did. I'm going to see."
mo" he protested.
But she was gone before he could
stop her. Phil scrambled to his feet
and followed.
One glance at Mccain was enough
to show that this was no ruse He lay
still, either dead or unconscious. The
boy stopped and found where bullet
had gone through the shirt.
"He was shot from behind, looks
like" he said.
"But-who?' Julia asked, white to
the lips.
JAS maybe" Phil said it reluctant
ly. II saw some one lodging in the
chaparral. Looked like Jas, but may
be it wasn't. Anyhow, l stopped to
find out an he slipped away. I wish
to God I hadn't. 1 might a-been on
time"
They had walked over to the place
where their father lay and were kneel-
ing beside him. With her handker-
chief Julia wiped from the forehead
Of the cattleman the little stain Of
el, WIN h,1l ot hol
entered his head. Her slim body was
shaken with sobs. The face Of the boy
was working with emotion. The blow
was staggering. The virile dominant
personality Of their father would never
again rule their activities He had
blown candle vanishes.
"One Of us IL have to 60 get the
wagon" Phil said presently in an un-
steady voice. dad musta left it some
where near"
Eyes. You go, Phil"
She was clinging to him, quivering
with grief.
They cried in each others arms.
After a little, Phil spoke gruffly,
ashamed Of his own distress. 'I'll be
moving. Sure you don't mind stayin'
alone, Sis?"
mo. / want to stay"
"I'll leave Dads rifle with you. Not
that you'll need It," He tested the
mechanism to make sure it was in
order "He hadn't fired a shot. Nc
Cam got him from the chaparral, don't
you reckon?" Then, with high sob
bling note in his voice, "By Cd,
this'll be bad day for the McCanns."
"Yes." In that monosyllable she
concentrated all the passionate desire
for vengeance in her young heart.
Phil disappeared among the mes
quite bushes, and after minute Julia
heard the sound Of a moving horse
thrashing about in the brush.
The sun was shining on land peace
full as old age. She could hear the
faint twitter of birds. Nothing had