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Mavericks by William MacLeod Raine
page 58 of 342 (16%)

He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, well."

"And he pays me back by trying to throw it on Phil. Hunt him down,
Brill. Bring him to me. I'll tell all I know against him," she cried
vindictively.

"I'll get him, Phyl," he promised, and the sound of his laughter was not
pleasant. "I'll get him for you, or find out why."

"Think of him trying to put it on Phil, and after I stood by him and
kept his secret. Isn't that the worst ever?" the girl flamed.

"He rode away not five minutes ago as big as coffee on that ugly roan of
his with the white stockings; knew what we thought about him, but didn't
pay any more attention to us than as if we were bumps on a log."

Healy strode out to the porch, told his story, and within five minutes
had organized his posse and appointed a rendezvous for two hours later
at Seven Mile.

At the appointed time his men were on hand, six of them, armed with
rifles and revolvers, ready for grim business.

From her window Phyllis saw them ride away, and persuaded herself that
she was glad. Vengeance was about to fall upon this insolent freebooter
who had not even manhood enough to appreciate a kindness. But as the
hours passed she was beset by a consuming anxiety. What more likely
than that he would resist! If so, there could be only one end. She
could not keep her thoughts from those seven men whom she had sent
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