As the man assisted
the girl to mount, he saw that she was crying.
"They'll come out, all right," he assured her. "As soon as we hit the
river and I can get a fresh horse, I'm going back."
"Going back!"
"Going back, of course--with water. You do not expect me to leave
them?"
"No, I don't expect you to leave them! Oh, Winthrop, I--" her voice
choked up and the sentence was never finished.
"Buck up, little girl, an hour will put us at the river," he swung into
the saddle and headed southward, glad of a respite from the galling,
scalding torture of walking in high-heeled boots.
Had Endicott combed Montana throughout its length and breadth he could
have found no more evil, disreputable character than Long Bill Kearney.
Despised by honest citizens and the renegades of the bad lands, alike,
he nevertheless served these latter by furnishing them whiskey and
supplies at exorbitant prices. Also, he bootlegged systematically to
the Port Belknap Indians, which fact, while a matter of common
knowledge, the Government had never been able to prove. So Long Bill,
making a living ostensibly by maintaining a flat-boat ferry and a few
head of mangy cattle, continued to ply his despicable trade. Even
passing cowboys avoided him and Long Bill was left pretty much to his
own evil devices.
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