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Chapter 5 MORSE JUMPS UP TROUBLE

Word Count: 2467    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

orner of his mouth. "Knew all the time she did it an'

omber eyes watched the big man jerk the spade bit cruelly and rowel the bronco when it went into the air. It was a

ou could tell me how he'd se

t night when I took

t you bring her to me? Who's in charge of

e half-breeds. I figured it was safer to get her right home to

to have a run in with you right soon. I can see that. Think because you're C.N

e to atmospheres, but he felt the force of this young man. It was not really in his mind to quarrel with him. For one thing he would soon be a partner in t

n of the Belly and the St. Mary's Rivers. This fort had become a rendezvous for all the traders with

of them had turned east toward Wood Mountain before the party was out of the Assiniboine country. Wes

l-temper. For the first time in his life he had been publicly worsted. Practically he had been kicked out of the bu

More than once his simmering anger leaped out at the young fellow who had been a witness of his defeat. In the main he kept his rage s

knew where the best grass was to be found. In many places the feed was scant. It had been cropped close by the great herds of buffalo roaming the plains. Most of th

d out from camp to try for an antelope, since they were short of fresh meat. He climbed a small butte overlooking the

packed that he could almost have stepped from one shaggy head to another. Not fifty yards from him they scrambled ashore and went lumbering into the hazy dusk. So

galloping into the Happy Hunting Ground the Indians prayed for? What would come of their flight? When the plains knew them no more,

" he murmu

ess wheat-fields that would stretch across the plains, of the farmers who would pour into the North by hundreds of thousands, of the cities which would rise in the sand hills as a monument

film before the sun showed over the horizon hills. The bull-teams had taken up their ste

noon," Barn

time for a real sure-enough dinner wit

and bright eyes defied the encroachment of time. He was bald, except for a fringe of grayish hair above the temples

to be di

at the fort and were plodding along it to the

Morse shoute

. "Mebbe they'll have

ice of the di

made a b

he leaders. "Wha

The shots did not come in a fusillade. They were intermittent, di

e. Crees and Blackfeet, maybe, but you never ca

dded. "Till we know where

o end, the oxen bunched inside, partially prot

edeye aboard, Tom, you an' Brad scout out an' take a look-see. Don't be too venturesome. Soon's you find out what the rumpus is, hot-foot it ba

y chances. From the top of a small rise, shielded by a clump of willows, the two looked down on a field of battle already decided. Bullets and arrows were still flying, but the defiant, triumphant war-whoops of a band of painted w

lackfeet. They sure enough do mix it whenever they get to

raveled up from the plains for the same purpose. Filled with bad liquor, the hereditary enemies had as usual adjourned to the ground

back to camp," sugges

n' his oats heap much.

to him lik

pointed to a d

vantage of such cover as he could find. He was wou

hone in the sun. "Not a chance in the world for him. They'll git him soon as the

ribal quarrels of the natives. But old Brad's words, "good Injun," had carried him back to a picture of a brown, slim girl flashing indignation beca

id back its ears, turned like a streak of light, and leaped to a hand gallop

d brave. Simultaneously the limping fugitive and the Crees caught sig

rse. The Crees were close to their quarry. They closed in with a run. Tom knew it would be a near

is hand caught the sleeve of his rescuer at the same time that the flat of his foot dropped upon the white ma

ed at the bronco's tail and was jerked fro

he sky-line at the summit. His hat was gone and his bald head was shining in the sun. He

e and jumped it to a l

he brow in a shower

lled. "Ain't you got any sense a-tall? Don't y

the younger man said.

ould be out of range by the

Why not? What business we got monkeyin' with

like it," ad

h-Lose-His-Scalp? If I know Bully-and you can bet a silver fox fur ag'in'

pulse carry him to quixotic action. Already he was half-sorry for

nguage sulphurous. He announced his determination to turn

id Morse

wh

for that. The

' my busine

kin' it

ounded Indian, tall and slender, stood straight as an arrow, his gaze now on one, now on the

m goin' to tell the Crees to take him if they want him. Yo

ued. He waved a hand toward the horse from whi

he vaulted to the saddle, light as a mountain lion. His bare heels dug

e cottonwoods and disappea

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