Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1941-07-10
CHAPTER XIV

The tribute implied by the re-gath-
ering of the wild bunch leaders was
one of the most extraordinary things
that had ever happened in Bill Rop-
er's life. There was not much to
their story. Driven out of Texas on
the eve of Bill Roper's victory, for
a while they had gone their separate
ways. But gradually they had drift
ed together again, in the Indian ma
tons, at Dodge, in the northern COW
camps. With Cleve Tanner broken
in Texas, and the roots cut from
under Ben Thorpe's organization by
the loss of his breeding grounds, the
outlaw riders found themselves un-
willing to leave their work unin-
ished. So at last they had come
looking for Roper-and had found
him.
The first thing was to get them out
of there. He named as rendezvous a
lonely shanty on Fork Creek.
Roper himself was the last to ride
out of Miles City. Seasoned night
riders though these men might be,
with names now famous the length
of the trail, most of them were
youngsters still. No one of them
could be trusted not to get skinful
of liquor, and 60 cunning for Lash
ANS men on his own hook.
Roper was relieved, therefore,
upon riding into the Fork Creek rem
devious in the dreary February twi-
light, to find his Texas men already
waiting for him there. They were
eating fresh beef, but not their own,
as Roper came into the little cab
in, stamping the snow off his boots.
Lee Harnish looked sheepish.
"Say, l forgot something. 1 got a
letter for you here"
Roper took the worn envelope and
stood turning it over in his hands.
The date showed it to be three weeks
old-no great age, everything con-
sidered. But what took hold of him,
so that for full minute he dared
not break the seal, was that the
letter was from Jody Gordon.
Roper ripped open the envelope.
AAlC WllOlC AlOIS SOVCl GU llO
than half page; but as he folded
it and put it into pocket, his hands
were shaking in way that would
have cost him his life if he had been
walking into a gunfght then. There
was long silence.
With visible effort, Roper
pulled himself together. Briefly he
told them what his new wild bunch
had done.
"But we haven't even scratched
the surface" he finished. "Unless
we hit Walk Lasham quick and hard,
Thorpe will get his balance again,
and reach his roots back into Texas;
and all the work we did down there
will 60 for nothing"
ME-" Tex Long said, 81 aim to
swing with you, and try to finish up
what we begun. But, way I see it,
the layout up here is terrible bad,
for our style of work"
"There isn't any profit in the way
I figured" Roper admitted. '"I've
been taking pasear up along the
Canadian border; l figure it's an
easy drive. If you criminals are
willing to come on and take one
more crack at Thorpe and Lash
am"
There's no one beyond the bor-
der that's needing any Stock" Dry
Camp Pierce said gloomily.
"Dry Camp" Bill Roper said,
I'm thinking of the tribes"
There was moments silence
Granting that Canada's full of war
paint" Tex Long said; chow the
devil"
GIVE talked to Iron Dog"
Every one of them, each in his
own way, pricked up his ears at
that. Iron Dog was famous war
rior chief of the Gros Ventre Sioux.
Ragged and starving, his decimated
band driven far out of their home
country, Iron Dog no longer was the
stubbornly resisting force which had
once made his name But though
he was broken and helpless now,
remnants of his leadership re-