d. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Mac was nowhere

ecracker, but Flandrau knew it was nothing so harmless. He leaped to his feet, and at the

toward him, forgetting the revolver that lay in its holster under the live oak. Every moment he expected to see Mac jump up, but the figure stretched

mind Curly would have been properly frightened. But now he thought only of Mac lying there so still in the sand. Right into the fire zone he ran, knelt beside his

topped shooting, but when they saw him rise a rifle puffed once more. The riders were closing in on him now. The nearest called to him to

e emptied Mac's gun. When the smoke cleared the man who had ordered him to give up was s

s gun's empty,"

sudden the plain tilted up to meet the sky. Flandrau felt himsel

and there were no bodies to go with them. They seemed to fl

to all righ

him cheat the rope," ano

ght. How i

o another who h

about all in. Got

M stock, the discovery, the death of his friend and maybe of Cullison, the certain punishment that would follow. He was a

ent to rise and they

ell," one of the

ere strangers to the boy. All of them looked at him out of hard hostile eyes. He was scarcely a human being to them; rather a wolf to b

would see again. It came over him strangely enough how Mac used to break into a little chuckling laugh when he was amuse

reckon. Send them to Miss Myra Anderson, Tombstone, c

coupled it with a remark no decen

over. With a jerk his right arm was free. It shot out like a pile-driver, all

re he could stir three men were straddled over his

l see about that. Ja

f the Circle C ranch was shining in the morning sun. Toward the group of buildings clustered around this two of h

steps. She swung herself to the saddle just vacated by the messenger and pulled the

quiver of fear b

ght peart though. Says for to tell you not to worry. Don't yo

ght of a mangled mad dog which had just bit a dear friend. Long after the pounding of her pony's hoofs had died away the prisoner could see the startled eyes of fear and horror that had rested on him. As Curly kicked his foot out of the

knees. The cook, the stable boy, and redheaded Bob Cullison, a nephew of the owner of the ranch, p

a kid, Buck," th

sively. "Old enough to be

'll bet he's a regular Billy the Kid," mur

is. He's got ba

gun. Say, if Uncle Luck dies-" Bob

e "bad man" who had shot Luck Cullison. Young Flandrau lay on a cot and stared at the ceiling, paying no more attention to them than if they had bee

over disintegrated granit

ack," Buck announced from th

looked over his shoulde

an don't pull through i

d for him, but it would be the worst ever if his random shot were to make Kate Cullison an orphan. A big lump rose in his throat and would not stay dow

came again the cr

uck casually to the othe

but not one of them-no, not even Kate Cullison herself-was in a colder fear than Curly Flandrau. He was entitled to a deep interest, fo

ined curtly. The bleeding had stopped, but there was a throb in it as if someone were twisting a re

he grunted in the brusque way that f

ed toward

llow," the doctor ordered, mopping his b

e boss?" asked

ks like. Tell you mor

y not get well?" Curly pumped o

this boy did not fit the specifications of the

g the wound in a businesslike way. "Looks like the bullet's sti

'll stand the grief. When this lead hypodermic jabbed into my arm it sort

the little m

find that o

se across the dusty deserts of the frontier without learni

a sudden faintness. He was very white about the lip

his tools, pulled on his coat,

ck, are you? Ready to tackl

rds and his voice fell to a husky whisper. "Say,

low. Seems to me you're thi

edicine case and we