The animals were gone, and cursing the
half-breed at every step, he rushed to the street, and catching up the
reins of a big roan that stood in a group of horses, swung into the
saddle and headed out onto the trail.
"Women are fools," he muttered savagely. "It beats hell what even the
sensible ones will fall for!"
At the up-bend of the trail he halted abruptly and listened. From the
shadows of the coulee ahead came the sound of voices and the soft
scraping of horses' feet. He drew the roan into a cottonwood thicket
and waited.
"Somethin' funny here. Nobody ever come to a dance ridin' at a walk,"
he muttered, and then as the little cavalcade broke into the bright
moonlight at a bend of the trail, his eyes widened with surprise. In
front rode Bat Lajune with Purdy's horse snubbed to his saddle-horn,
and immediately following him were the girl and Endicott riding side by
side. Tex saw that the girl was crying, and that Endicott's hands were
manacled, and that he rode the missing horse. Behind them rode Sam
Moore, pompously erect, a six-shooter laid across the horn of his
saddle, and a scowl of conceited importance upon his face that would
have evoked the envy of the Kaiser of Krautland. The figure appealed
to the Texan's sense of humour and waiting until the deputy was exactly
opposite his place of concealment, he filled his lungs and leaned
forward in his saddle.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122