The Lone Star Ranger by Zane Grey (red white and royal blue hardcover .txt) đ
- Author: Zane Grey
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âThen he went in anâ dragged poor Jen out. Sheâd had time to dress. He was so mad he hurt her sore leg. You know Jen got thet injury fightinâ off one of them devils in the dark. Anâ when I seen Bland twist herâhurt herâI had a queer hot feelinâ deep down in me, anâ fer the only time in my life I wished I was a gunfighter.
âWal, Jen amazed me. She was whiterân a sheet, anâ her eyes were big and stary, but she had nerve. Fust time I ever seen her show any.
ââJennie,â he said, âmy wife said Duane came here to see you. I believe sheâs lyinâ. I think sheâs been carryinâ on with him, anâ I want to KNOW. If sheâs been anâ you tell me the truth Iâll let you go. Iâll send you out to Huntsville, where you can communicate with your friends. Iâll give you money.â
âThet must hev been a hell of a minnit fer Kate Bland. If evet I seen death in a manâs eye I seen it in Blandâs. He loves her. Thetâs the strange part of it.
ââHas Duane been cominâ here to see my wife?â Bland asked, fierce-like.
ââNo,â said Jennie.
ââHeâs been after you?â
ââYes.â
ââHe has fallen in love with you? Kate said thet.â
ââIâIâm notâI donât knowâhe hasnât told me.â
ââBut youâre in love with him?â
ââYes,â she said; anâ, Buck, if you only could have seen her! She thronged up her head, anâ her eyes were full of fire. Bland seemed dazed at sight of her. Anâ Alloway, why, thet little skunk of an outlaw cried right out. He was hit plumb center. Heâs in love with Jen. Anâ the look of her then was enough to make any feller quit. He jest slunk out of the room. I told you, mebbe, thet heâd been tryinâ to git Bland to marry Jen to him. So even a tough like Alloway can love a woman!
âBland stamped up anâ down the room. He sure was dyinâ hard.
ââJennie,â he said, once more turninâ to her. âYou swear in fear of your life thet youâre tellinâ truth. Kateâs not in love with Duane? Sheâs let him come to see you? Thereâs been nuthinâ between them?â
ââNo. I swear,â answered Jennie; anâ Bland sat down like a man licked.
ââGo to bed, you white-facedââ Bland choked on some word or otherâa bad one, I reckonâanâ he positively shook in his chair.
âJennie went then, anâ Kate began to have hysterics. Anâ your Uncle Euchre ducked his nut out of the door anâ come home.â
Duane did not have a word to say at the end of Euchreâs long harangue. He experienced relief. As a matter of fact, he had expected a good deal worse. He thrilled at the thought of Jennie perjuring herself to save that abandoned woman. What mysteries these feminine creatures were!
âWal, thereâs where our little deal stands now,â resumed Euchre, meditatively. âYou know, Buck, as well as me thet if youâd been some feller who hadnât shown he was a wonder with a gun youâd now be full of lead. If youâd happen to kill Bland anâ Alloway, I reckon youâd be as safe on this here border as you would in Santone. Such is gun fame in this land of the draw.â
Both men were awake early, silent with the premonition of trouble ahead, thoughtful of the fact that the time for the long-planned action was at hand. It was remarkable that a man as loquacious as Euchre could hold his tongue so long; and this was significant of the deadly nature of the intended deed. During breakfast he said a few words customary in the service of food. At the conclusion of the meal he seemed to come to an end of deliberation.
âBuck, the sooner the better now,â he declared, with a glint in his eye. âThe more time we use up now the less surprised Blandâll be.â
âIâm ready when you are,â replied Duane, quietly, and he rose from the table.
âWal, saddle up, then,â went on Euchre, gruffly. âTie on them two packs I made, one fer each saddle. You canât tellâmebbe either hoss will be carryinâ double. Itâs good theyâre both big, strong hosses. Guess thet wasnât a wise move of your Uncle Euchreâsâbringinâ in your hosses anâ havinâ them ready?â
âEuchre, I hope youâre not going to get in bad here. Iâm afraid you are. Let me do the rest now,â said Duane.
The old outlaw eyed him sarcastically.
âThet âd be turrible now, wouldnât it? If you want to know, why, Iâm in bad already. I didnât tell you thet Alloway called me last night. Heâs gettinâ wise pretty quick.â
âEuchre, youâre going with me?â queried Duane, suddenly divining the truth. â
âWal, I reckon. Either to hell or safe over the mountain! I wisht I was a gunfighter. I hate to leave here without takinâ a peg at Jackrabbit Benson. Now, Buck, you do some hard figgerinâ while I go nosinâ round. Itâs pretty early, which âs all the better.â
Euchre put on his sombrero, and as he went out Duane saw that he wore a gun-and-cartridge belt. It was the first time Duane had ever seen the outlaw armed.
Duane packed his few belongings into his saddlebags, and then carried the saddles out to the corral. An abundance of alfalfa in the corral showed that the horses had fared well. They had gotten almost fat during his stay in the valley. He watered them, put on the saddles loosely cinched, and then the bridles. His next move was to fill the two canvas water-bottles. That done, he returned to the cabin to wait.
At the moment he felt no excitement or agitation of any kind. There was no more thinking and planning to do. The hour had arrived, and he was ready. He understood perfectly the desperate chances he must take. His thoughts became confined to Euchre and the surprising loyalty and goodness in the hardened old outlaw. Time passed slowly. Duane kept glancing at his watch. He hoped to start the thing and get away before the outlaws were out of their beds. Finally he heard the shuffle of Euchreâs boots on the hard path. The sound was quicker than usual.
When Euchre came around the corner of the cabin Duane was not so astounded as he was concerned to see the outlaw white and shaking. Sweat dripped from him. He had a wild look.
âLuck oursâso-fur, Buck!â he panted.
âYou donât look it,â replied Duane.
âIâm turrible sick. Jest killed a man. Fust one I ever killed!â
âWho?â asked Duane, startled.
âJackrabbit Benson. Anâ sick as I am, Iâm gloryinâ in it. I went nosinâ round up the road. Saw Alloway goinâ into Degerâs. Heâs thick with the Degers. Reckon heâs askinâ questions. Anyway, I was sure glad to see him away from Blandâs. Anâ he didnât see me. When I dropped into Bensonâs there wasnât nobody there but Jackrabbit anâ some greasers he was startinâ to work. Benson never had no use fer me. Anâ he up anâ said he wouldnât give a two-bit piece fer my life. I asked him why.
ââYouâre double-crossinâ the boss anâ Chess,â he said.
ââJack, what âd you give fer your own life?â I asked him.
âHe straightened up surprised anâ mean-lookinâ. Anâ I let him have it, plumb center! He wilted, anâ the greasers run. I reckon Iâll never sleep again. But I had to do it.â
Duane asked if the shot had attracted any attention outside.
âI didnât see anybody but the greasers, anâ I sure looked sharp. Cominâ back I cut across through the cottonwoods past Blandâs cabin. I meant to keep out of sight, but somehow I had an idee I might find out if Bland was awake yet. Sure enough I run plumb into Beppo, the boy who tends Blandâs hosses. Beppo likes me. Anâ when I inquired of his boss he said Bland had been up all night fightinâ with the Senora. Anâ, Buck, hereâs how I figger. Bland couldnât let up last night. He was sore, anâ he went after Kate again, tryinâ to wear her down. Jest as likely he might have went after Jennie, with wuss intentions. Anyway, he anâ Kate must have had it hot anâ heavy. Weâre pretty lucky.â
âIt seems so. Well, Iâm going,â said Duane, tersely.
âLucky! I should smiler Blandâs been up all night after a most dragginâ ride home. Heâll be fagged out this morninâ, sleepy, sore, anâ he wonât be expectinâ hell before breakfast. Now, you walk over to his house. Meet him how you like. Thetâs your game. But Iâm suggestinâ, if he comes out anâ you want to parley, you can jest say youâd thought over his proposition anâ was ready to join his band, or you ainât. Youâll have to kill him, anâ it âd save time to go fer your gun on sight. Might be wise, too, fer itâs likely heâll do thet same.â
âHow about the horses?â
âIâll fetch them anâ come along about two minnits behind you. âPears to me you ought to have the job done anâ Jennie outside by the time I git there. Once on them hosses, we can ride out of camp before Alloway or anybody else gits into action. Jennie ainât much heavier than a rabbit. Thet big black will carry you both.â
âAll right. But once more let me persuade you to stayânot to mix any more in this,â said Duane, earnestly.
âNope. Iâm goinâ. You heard what Benson told me. Alloway wouldnât give me the benefit of any doubts. Buck, a last wordâlook out fer thet Bland woman!â
Duane merely nodded, and then, saying that the horses were ready, he strode away through the grove. Accounting for the short cut across grove and field, it was about five minutesâ walk up to Blandâs house. To Duane it seemed long in time and distance, and he had difficulty in restraining his pace. As he walked there came a gradual and subtle change in his feelings. Again he was going out to meet a man in conflict. He could have avoided this meeting. But despite the fact of his courting the encounter he had not as yet felt that hot, inexplicable rush of blood. The motive of this deadly action was not personal, and somehow that made a difference.
No outlaws were in sight. He saw several Mexican herders with cattle. Blue columns of smoke curled up over some of the cabins. The fragrant smell of it reminded Duane of his home and cutting wood for the stove. He noted a cloud of creamy mist rising above the river, dissolving in the sunlight.
Then he entered Blandâs lane.
While yet some distance from the cabin he heard loud, angry voices of man and woman. Bland and Kate still quarreling! He took a quick survey of the surroundings. There was now not even a Mexican in sight. Then he hurried a little. Halfway down the lane he turned his head to peer through the cottonwoods. This time he saw Euchre coming with the horses. There was no indication that the old outlaw might lose his nerve at the end. Duane had feared this.
Duane now changed his walk to a leisurely saunter. He reached the porch and then distinguished what was said inside the cabin.
âIf you do, Bland, by Heaven Iâll fix you and her!â That was panted out in Kate Blandâs full voice.
âLet me looser Iâm going in there, I tell you!â replied Bland, hoarsely.
âWhat for?â
âI
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