Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 60: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

50 “He went to his ranch, I tell you,” said Condon in a voice strengthened by excitement. “T followed him—all the way.” “You wasn’t in on that bank deal with Hemp?” asked the sleriff. “No,” said Lang. “I turned Hemp down flat when he made his proposition to join him— knocked him down. He called out my name that night out of spite and to implicate me. “This man Frank was with Hemp that night —maybe he'll talk if he thinks it will make things easier for him. And Hemp and his out- fit are down on the other side of the divide— where? Condon, can you tell us where?” Speaking slowly, Condon gave the directions. “Pll talk,” said the man Frank. ‘You seem to have the goods on us—and Hemp’s never made up as a friend to me. Rush wasn’t there that night.” The sheriff walked over to Bransom’s body and looked into the man’s face. “T know him,” he said immediately. Lang and the girl were bending over Condon. “T got Bransom; plugged him for good,” Lang was saying. “Lang, that thousand dollars biaca good to me—did you know a thousand was offered for you?” asked Condon faintly. Lang nodded and moistened the dying man’s forehead. with the cool water from the moun- tain spring. “But that day I saw you stand—in the prospect-hole and refuse—to put up your hands—I—I knew—or thought I knew—I didn’t want that money. And when you told me after—the fight at Kane’s that I—I seemed a friend—and put back the rifle-cartridges—I was sure of it. I—I learned something up here in—the good, old hills, Lang—maybe you did to “T did,” said Lang. ‘And I knew who you were, or why you had come up here, that night when I put the rifle-shells back. I meant what I said.” Condon coughed and a red froth stained his lips; but his eyes glowed with a happy light as Lang grasped his hands. “Tl hope when my time comes that God’ll put me on your range, old pardner,” said Lang brokenly. The red froth on Condon’s ips showed a deeper crimson. “Tell ’em to stand back,” he whispered, “so I can see the hills,” And as Lang raised Condon’s = in his arms a ray of golden sunshine broke through the green of the pines. The dying man smiled faintly and a wondrous glory came to rest upon his face as if death had brought some greater reward than life had held. Lang pillowed the head upon the fragrant grass of the meadow and put his handkerchief over the still, white face. For a moment he = Adventure held in his hand the flower which had been wrapped in the handkerchief—ihe flower the girl had given him—the white flower of faith. He looked up at her; saw the tears in her eyes; then he crossed Condon’s hands over the still breast and closed them about the white, wild mountain rose. Lang stood up, straight and pale, and drew his gun slowly from its sheath. ' “Tm ready whenever you are,” he said to the sheriff as he tendered his weapon. “T knew he was going to give himself up,” said the girl to the officer. “He waited yester- day and last night when he could have gotten away to tell me so this morning—not in words but in looks.” “T don’t need your gun,’ tugging at his mustache. right,” He paused, thinking. “Look here, Rush; did you think Drayton was drawin’ on you sure enough?” “Tt looked pretty much that way. I saw him go for his hip—waited until I saw the glint of metal—an’ I didn’t know until it rattled on the floor that what he was pullin’ out was a—a chewing-tobacco case.” “T told him many a time that that habit of his when excited would get him bored some day,” ruminated the sheriff. “‘He owned up I was right before he got out of bed.” “Out of bed!” exclaimed Lang. ‘‘Didn’t he die?” . “He was mighty close to it for a spell, but he’s pulled through. It was a bad wound. But now—when he hears all this—well now, I’ll be hanged, Rush, if it don’t look to me as if this here case has passed out of my hands!” Lang remained silent—stunned by the good news that he hadn’t killed Drayton. “Sheriff, we ain’t nevér been much on law up here,” drawled John Thornton; “but now that it’s come suppose we go down an’ get this cattle-rustling outfit first an’ then——” “Tf Drayton wants me to push this thing I can come back after you,” interrupted the sheriff, speaking to Lang. “I reckon you'll be here?”’ “T’ll be here,”’ promised Lang. “All right,” said the sheriff as he mounted. Then with a twinkle in his eyes— “T’ll put you in charge of that young lady.” Lang and Alice were silent as the others rode away. “Have you decided what it was that made you stay —wait?” asked the girl after a time. “Ves,” answered Lang without hesitation. “Tt wasn’t you so much as it was what you represent—the clean, clear fairness of the hills and the skies. It’s an influence I’d always like to have—with me.” * ’ scowled the sheriff, “Mine suits me all a 4 OLMUCE JOOKS (E@)