The Bluffton news. [volume] (Bluffton, Ohio) 1875-current, 1941-02-20

pitched to the ground, then dragged
| himself On short distance. He
/ was lying now on his back, left arm
folded under his head, inert, but
conscious. His eyes opened at the
thud of boots and in them a know
ing smile kindled. He started to
| speak.
"Save it." said Candy. Think
you're a swell prophet, don't youl"
He bent over. "How are you, Bill?
Where are you hit?"
Not until he had moved the man
a little to lift him, did he see the
right arm almost shot away, and a
widening spot of blood from another
wound somewhere in HOLSTERS
back. His own injury was nothing
compared to this; continued stiff
ening of the left knee, but the stain
ON his blue jeans was drying. He
picked Bill Hollister up bodily, car
ried him to the cabin and booted the
| door inward.
Outpost Camp was the usual range
shack, an overnight stopping-place
for a man riding circle, or the CEN
| ter of more lively scene for week
during fall or spring roundup. In
side was a rough table, half dozen
boxes for chairs, four double-tier
hunks and stove. 1t was no
more barren nor isolated than most,
ret entering with the wounded man,
Walt Candy felt that a place had
never been Sn dcSOiate
| He laid Hollister on the straw tick
of a lower bunk near the stove,
pushed back the stove lids and
crammed brush stems in onto ash
that was still warm. There was no
wood here in the bottoms. The
brush flared. Methodically he went
out to the spring for water, brought
in a full bucket, poured some in
a basin to heat, some in the coffee
pot, went out for more fuel-and all
the time he was telling himself that
a tough fellow like that one in there
couldn't die, knowing that he could.
Hollister lay face down, saying
nothing during the minutes Walt
worked over him, cleaning sand
from the shattered right arm, then
putting on tight bandage to stop
the blood. The back wound was
only small neat hole; but what
the bullet had done internally was
beyond Gandy's help, save for the
ease of coffee and soothing warmth
from the red-hot stove. In time
someone would come. He could only
wait.
Finished with his first-aid, he
brought the coffee pot, two tin cups
and sat down on box beside the
bunk. Hollister was over on his
back now, his head propped upon
folded coat, and that quiet, know
| ing smile had never left his eyes.
He managed the cup with his left
hand. They sat there drinking, ST.
lent.
Not much talk had ever been
needed between these two. For
time now they did not talk at all.
Hollister opened his mouth and
took cigarette held out for him.
| Then he lay silently smoking. But
there was something he wanted to
talk about and seemed waiting un-
til enough strength was stored. His
eyes sobered to their deep-set, study
ing look.
Walt Candy saw, and felt instinc-
lively that he did not want to listen.
| He did not want a confession, if
that was what Hollister had on his
| mind. What did it matter?
Twice he shook his head to stave
off talk, until with effort the lank
man burst out: "Turn around herei
I've got things to tell you. And I
haven't got much time"
They'll keep" said Candy.
you're going to pull out of this all
| right. The ranch knows where we
are and someone will come trailing
us if we don't show up. You keep
| quiet" But he drew his eyes from
the pain-ridden face. If they were
coming, they'd better hurry!
NO." Hollister managed dogged-
ly. Il want you to understand some
thing"
Gandy's head lifted and he looked
across the Pickering light to where
Hollister lay in. shadow. Maybe
do already, Bill. Never mind"
What do you mean by that?"
''Let it go, BILL
''Well, I don't think you do" Hol-
lister said Its Helen / want to
! talk about"
"Walt? Have you fallen in love
with that girl?"
The question came so pointedly
| that Walt Candy stared. Then he
countered: What difference does
that make one way or the other?"
Gall the difference, in what say
to you," Hollister answered, and the
grave tone of his voice showed this
deeply important to him. "Have
your"
Walt Candy admitted only, 1--WE
never met anyone like her."
"Good," said Hollister. THAT'S
enough. I" Though his lean face was
in half dark, he seemed to be smil-
ing to himself, pleased with some
thing, and Candy wondered.
Hollister waited to regain breath.
| Unexpectedly he asked: ''You must
have an idea by this time, haven't
you, who killed Chino Drake?"
Walt Gandy's gaze slid to the
floor. He said nothing. What did
| it matter now?
Hollister persisted. "And Ranger
Powell, too. But maybe you haven't