Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1941-09-11
CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVI
They buried Lew Gordon at Miles
City. That dot upon the northern
prairie marked. in effect, the far
thest north reached by that great
and dramatic upthrust of power
which had welled up out of Texas,
carving new trails, opening new vast
countries, driving herds unnurn-
bered, under the name of King-Gor-
don. Jody thought that her father
would have wanted to lie there.
After that was done with, Jody
went back to Ogallala.
ALI through the spring news kept
trickling in. A swift bankruptcy
was sweeping Thorpe's loosely
grouped organizations. Wiped out of
Texas by the so-called Rustlers'
War, broken in the north by the
Great Raid-the shaken power of
Ben Thorpe crumbled fast, now that
Thorpe himself was dead. A once
unbeatable organization, powerful
down in such utter debacle as no
man could check.
And as Thorpe's power vanished
into the gunsmoke in which he had
died, strange new prestige began
to attach itself to the name of the
man who had destroyed him. Only
a little while ago Bill Roper had been
an outlaw, hunted man with
price on his head, in whose behalf
few men ever dared speak good
word. But now that his enemies
were down, it seemed that the whole
length of the Long Trail held men
who protested themselves his life
long friends. Like coyotes after a
killing, like worms after rain, Bill
Roper partisans were rising up, a
score here, hundred there, where
not one friend had been, during those
smoky hours of his greatest need.
Already men were less ready to re-
member what weapons he had used
in fighting fire with fire than to re-
member simply that he had won.
Three governors had issued blanket
pardons for what he might or might
not have done. He could have had
almost any position he wanted near
the top of any one of three or four
of the great cattle companies. He
could have had almost anything he
wanted, then.
But Bill Roper-where was he?
Nobody seemed to know. His own
raiders-Tex Long, Hat Crick Tom
my, Dave Shannon-now swagger-
ing wherever they pleased amid a
curious acclaim, did not know. And
if Dry Camp Pierce, that one most
trusted of all Bill Roper's men, knew
where his leader was, he held his
tongue.
Jody Gordon was making every
effort to find out Bill Roper's where
abouts.
The weeks passed, and the new
grass came on the prairie, and still
there was no word. Two or three
times week, after the first spring
flowers began to show, Jody Gordon
rode out to the pile of stone with
its wooden cross that marked Dusty
Kings grave, putting there little
handfuls of blue Indian hyacinth and
white anemone.
And then suddenly one day as she
sat her horse before Dusty Kings
cross she knew that Bill Roper was
alive, that he was near, that he had
come. The notch that she had seen
Bill Roper cut in the arm of Dusty S
cross to mark the death of Cleve
Tanner was we'll weathered by this
time; but now, sharp and freshly
cut in the opposite arm of the cross,
was second notch that had never
been there before.
A choking lump rose instantane-
ously in Jody's throat, and she spun
her pony in it's tracks as instructive.
ly her eyes swept the plain and the
low hills. So freshly cut was the
new notch upon the cross that il
seemed Bill Roper must still be nc
more than a few minutes away.
In the clear light of the late after
noon she could make out every detail
of the rambling little town of Ogal
lala, but nowhere was there to be
seen any horseman. She turned hel
pony and rode home with strange
empty, gone feeling, because for E
moment Bill Roper had seemed Sc
near and now was nowhere in sight
When she had unsaddled she wen
into the tall white house by the back
way, and walked through it slowly
preoccupied, wondering what she
should do.
Then, as she came into the from
room, her hand jumped to hel
throat, for someone was waiting fol
her there-a woman who stood w
as Jody came in.
For a moment Jody Gordon hard
ly recognized Marquita. Only lit
tie time had passed since they hae
faced each other in a remote cabin
set in Montana SHOWS, yet Marquit;
looked Enthusiastically older; and tn,
live, sultry fire behind her dark
slanting eyes was gone.
II lied to you," Marquita said a
last. "I'm not sorry for that. II
lie to you again, for the same rea
son, or for less reason. But thi
time it didn't do any good. So
thought might as we'll tell you.'