Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1942-06-25

Herendeen pushed his horse over
the yard, bound away for his ranch.
AS he followed the net of trails
leading upward to the Mogul, Hack
Breathitt had no cares and no Sc
rlous thoughts. This was q fine,
warm day. Ahead of him on the
pine-shadowed trail occasional gold
en- shafts of sunlight slanted through
the tree tops. Here and there a
swirl of dust showed where an an
telope had been a moment before.
The silence was thick and held it's
rank scent of resin; and at intervals
Hack sang incomplete bits of such
songs as he knew, the sound of that
going out around him in widening
waves. Dusk caught him in this
rough land, still without any thought
of direction; at full dark he turned
bend of the trail and saw freight
pulse against the side of nearby
ravine.
The fire, he found, was at the base
of bare rock wall running up the
side of Mogul. There wasn't any,
body within the range of freight,
but Hack refined in and held his
seat, knowing that somebody had
stepped into the shadows and was
watching him. A moment later Pete
Borders came forward.
"You make enough racket to raise
the dead, Hack. Pull off YOUR saddle
if you amt goin' any place"
Hack said, indolently amused:
"Now where would l be goin'?" He
stepped to the ground and relieved
the horse of it's gear. He watered
it, put it out on picket; he had his
own frying pan and coffeepot and
presently was crouched at the fire
with Borders.
Borders said "Nothin' new"
"a man. reflected Breathitt,
"that never goes any place never
hears anything"
He tossed a fresh stick into the
fire, the flare of it heightening the
rusty shine of his hair. He had a
dry, smart face; double wrinkles
crossed his forehead. His eyes, on
the edge of being green, were mar
row-bright. He had been watching
the livid heart of the flame, but his
head rose and his eyes stared into
the surrounding darkness. He was
a tight, close-listening shape; and
presently he rose and stepped into
the shadows.
Somebody rode along the nearby
trail slowly, and stopped Hack
Breathitt held his position, too clear
of conscience to move. He poised
the cigarette between his fingers,
hearing the rider poke up the ravine.
The rider said, "Just me-just old
Parr Gentry lookin' for horses"
He came to the fire, this owner
of the livery stable in War Pass. He
rolled in the saddle, staring down at
Hack Breathitt long moment be-
fore recognizing him. 1Why, hello,
Hack. Didn't know I'd find you on
this side of the Mogul. Thought you
liked the other side best"
"Any sides all right" drawled
Breathitt. Parr Gentry shifted his
weight again, little heavy to find
comfort in his saddle. His face, by
freight, was round and solid-aeshed
and darkly dull. His eyes rummaged
this little clearing and saw Pete Bor-
ders' saddle and blanket on the far
edge of the fire-and the two horses
picketed near the spring. Breathitt
realized Gentry knew Borders
horse. q He held his silence, he took
a long drag on the cigarette. Late
for you, amt it, Parr?"
"Been draggin' this section all day
lookin' for horses. You seen band
around here?"
"Wild ones? They'd be clear to
the top of .Mogul in this weather"
"Lookin for tracks," murmured
Gentry. Thought they might come
down for water. Well, I'll be goin'.
Long way to War Pass" He wheeled
about, groaning softly as he went
away.
Pete Borders stepped into the light.
His face showed it's smart disbelief.
Hes been chasin' horses long
enough to know they amt down
here. And he wasn't pointed for
War Pass when he left, either" Aft
erwards he added: Didn't want to
show myself. Won't do you any
good to be seen campin' with me,
old boy"
''He saw your horse"
Borders shook his head. He set
tied in his blanket, just beyond the
light; the fire died away and a
small breeze rolled down the face of
Mogul.