A Texas Ranger | Page 4

with its hardware," he growled. "Chew out
an explanation, my friend, or you're liable to get spoiled."
It was the girl that spoke, in a low voice and very evidently under a
tense excitement.
"He is my brother and he has-- hurt himself. He can't ride any farther
and we have seventy miles still to travel. We didn't know what to do,
and so--"
"You started out to be a road-agent and he took a pot-shot at the first

person he saw. I'm surely obliged to you both for taking so much
interest in me, or rather in my team. Robbery and murder are quite a
family pastime, ain't they?"
The girl went white as snow, seemed to shrink before his sneer as from
a deadly weapon; and like a flash of light some divination of the truth
pierced the Westerner's brain. They were fugitives from justice, making
for the Mexican line. That the man was wounded a single glance had
told him. It was plain to be seen that the wear and tear of keeping the
saddle had been too much for him.
"I acted on an impulse," the girl explained in the same low tone. "I saw
you coming and I didn't know-- hadn't money enough to buy the team--
besides--"
He took the words out of her mouth when she broke down.
"Besides, I might have happened to be a sheriff. I might be, but then
I'm not."
The traveler stepped forward and kicked the wounded man's revolver
beyond his reach, then swiftly ran a hand over him to make sure he
carried no other gun.
The fellow on the ground eyed him furtively. "What are you going to
do with me?" he growled.
The other addressed himself to the girl, ignoring him utterly.
"What has this man done?"
"He has-- broken out from-- from prison."
"Where?"
"At Yuma."
"Damn you, you're snitching," interrupted the criminal in a scream that
was both wheedling and threatening.

The young man put his foot on the burly neck and calmly ground it into
the dust. Otherwise he paid no attention to him, but held the burning
eyes of the girl that stared at him from a bloodless face.
"What was he in for?"
"For holding up a train."
She had answered in spite of herself, by reason of something
compelling in him that drew the truth from her.
"How long has he been in the penitentiary?"
"Seven years." Then, miserably, she added: "He was weak and fell into
bad company. They led him into it."
"When did he escape?"
"Two days ago. Last night he knocked at my window-- at the window
of the room where I lodge in Fort Lincoln. I had not heard of his escape,
but I took him in. There were horses in the barn. One of them was mine.
I saddled, and after I had dressed his wound we started. He couldn't get
any farther than this."
"Do you live in Fort Lincoln?"
"I came there to teach school. My home was in Wisconsin before."
"You came out here to be near him?"
"Yes. That is, near as I could get a school. I was to have got in the
Tucson schools next year. That's much nearer."
"You visited him at the penitentiary?"
"No. I was going to during the Thanksgiving vacation. Until last night I
had not seen him since he left home. I was a child of seven then."
The Texan looked down at the ruffian under his feet.

"Do you know the road to Mexico by the Arivaca cut-off?"
"Yes."
"Then climb into my rig and hit the trail hard-- burn it up till you've
crossed the line."
The fellow began to whine thanks, but the man above would have none
of them, "I'm giving you this chance for your sister's sake. You won't
make anything of it. You're born for meanness and deviltry. I know
your kind from El Paso to Dawson. But she's game and she's white
clear through, even if she is your sister and a plumb little fool. Can you
walk to the road?" he ended abruptly.
"I think so. It's in my ankle. Some hell-hound gave it me while we were
getting over the wall," the fellow growled.
"Don't blame him. His intentions were good. He meant to blow out
your brains."
The convict cursed vilely, but in the midst of his impotent rage the
other stopped and dragged him to his feet.
"That's enough. You padlock that ugly mouth and light a shuck."
The girl came forward and the man leaned heavily on her as he limped
to the road. The Texan followed with the buckskin she had been riding
and tied it to the back of the road-wagon.
"Give me my purse," the girl said to the convict