Wyoming, Story of Outdoor West by William MacLeod Raine
page 83 of 283 (29%)
page 83 of 283 (29%)
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before their feet touched the ground.
"That coyote isn't one of our men. I'll back that opinion high," said McWilliams promptly. "Who is he?" the girl whispered. "That's what we're going to find out pretty soon," returned Bannister grimly. "Chances are it's me he is trying to gather. Now, I'm going to make a break for that cottonwood. When I go, you better run up a white handkerchief and move back from the firing-line. Turn Buck loose when you leave. He'll stay around and come when I whistle." He made a run for it, zigzagging through the sage-brush so swiftly as to offer the least certain mark possible for a sharpshooter. Yet twice the rifle spoke before he reached the cottonwood. Meanwhile Mac had fastened the handkerchief of his mistress on the end of a switch he had picked up and was edging out of range. His tense, narrowed gaze never left the bush-clump from which the shots were being pumped, and he was careful during their retreat to remain on the danger side of the road, in order to cover Helen. "I guess Bannister's right. He don't want us, whoever he is." And even as he murmured it, the wind of a bullet lifted his hat from his head. He picked it up and examined it. The course of the |
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