The Sunset Trail

the flats that stretch from the Canadian, and as he peeled the husk from that buffalo the nearest paleface was thirty miles away. The next day cam

s in laying out Mobeetie. Later, he aided the public in laying out certain predatory characters who from time to time rode into Mobeetie with a purpose of spoil. These latter intermittent lifts to law an

er because her little feet took hold on innocence, the men for the beauty of her face-for brown of cheek, and red of lip, and with eyes as softly, gently deep as are

h his soul in sonnets, in which vehicle of verse he identified Mollie Brennan as "The Wild Rose of the Canadian." There were no wild roses along the Canadian, at least in any near vicinity of Mobeetie, but the love-wrung bard, more moved of the

The defeat gave general satisfaction, for Mobeetie distrusted if it did not disapprove of poets, and in that harsh hour the Panhandle thought better of a Sharp's rifle than of a sonnet. The poet, in a lucid moment, perceived as much, a

as one of its founders. Nor did the fact go without a value, since nothing but that

erein he combined a six-shooter with a deck of cards-the latter most improperly marked-and which resulted in the demise of a gentleman then and there playing draw-poker against

icide, because, technically, it was a killing rather than a murder, and the departed wore his hardware at the time; even those hang-dog facial marks of an innate treachery would have passed unchallenged, for who may help his looks? but that braggart trick of, orally, reviewing what scalps he had taken, and exulting thereat, set public sentiment f

called his heart. The gift bred an alarm in her bosom beyond any induced by the rhyming passion of the sonneteer. Whereas the poet had only annoyed her, she drew

However, what few words he addressed to her never went beyond the commonplace; warned as by intuition of her aversion, he offered no syllable of love. But his eyes, black, and burning with a hungry fire-half-hidden, half-bursting into flame-made no sec

was frequently about its causeways. Buffalo hunting would wax monotonous betimes, and in what moments it palled upon him Mr. Masterson unbent in visits to Mobeetie. Thus the Wild Rose caught frequent glimpses of him, and the heart which had refused the p

asterson, if he nursed opinions on the point at all, held by a theory that love ought to be confined to the East as a region endowed of what leisure was demanded by its pursuit. When the Wild Rose swept him softly, and then let fall those lids in fear lest the modest hazel depths give up thei

King, lounging in the doorway of the Lady Gay, surprised the look of the Wild Rose, and read its truth. The knowledge shone in upon h

for unresentful years, passively enduring the coldness which was his reward. But that Mr. Masterson should have the Wild Rose aroused in him a

king off of Mr. Masterson was the one thing natural. It called for no motion of the intelligence; the resolution leaped instantly into being as the fruit of what he saw and what he felt. His enemy must die

to be brought to his elbow to assist his cogitations. He put away glass after glass, for-as those mule-skinners freightin

s though Fate were delivering his victim into his clutch, Mr. Masterson with Mr. D

e faro table, which stood at the end of the bar; an equal number bent noisily over monte, the latter diversion being

able. Sergeant King called him with a motion of his hand. The Mexican approached, received the whispered directions, took the gold piece tendered, and disappeared. By the time Sergeant King had taken another drink th

beside. And, when you have settled its sort, there remains the matter of comparison. There is a courage born of caution; it is fed and led by caution, and runs by i

had conferred upon him to mark their admiration of his arctic dauntlessness of heart. Mr. Willingham, sheriff, having official reason so to do, aimed his six-shooter at Old Tom Harris when the latter's back was turned. Then he called upon him to hold up his hands. Old To

sand to shoot!" s

Willingh

ances in his favour where his enemy possessed but three he would offer battle. With chance

ng the pony of Sergeant King. Suddenly, above the hu

thief here I'

ly seeking the speaker. He stood erect, his six-

will say, had Sergeant King gone instantly and wordlessly to work; yo

e's enemy in the back. It is one's notifying duty to arouse him. Once he be on his guard, and reaching for his artillery, o

t public resentment would attend their violation. Wherefore, a

thief here I'

t person's enemy. He quietly distasted, and as quietly failed, to be on nearer than nodding terms wi

thereof; "I once saw him jump over a counter to get at a party, when he might as well have gone 'round, a

of the Mobeetie public was then gathered in the Lady Gay, went wholly aware that the feud of Sergeant King was addressed solely to Mr. Masterson. Not a whit behind the public in the feather-e

Masterson, and when he said it his six-shooter was p

th induces trance. It is the bird with the serpent, the mouse with the cat. It is

and more than once had killed his man. What was it now that froze him motionless? As he looked into the mouth of that Colt's-45, and beheld the gray fi

might have heard the heart-beats of the Mobeetie publi

f four ages. Mr. Masterson, with unwavering muzzle and unblinking eye, bega

on. He dropped like some log of wood-his pistol falling from his fingers and rattling on the board floor of the Lady Gay. As Mr. Masterson replaced his own weapon in his belt, he kicked that of Sergeant King into a nook of safety. "It's the notion of Mobeetie," explained Mr. Dixon to Sergeant King, when thirty minutes later the latter was mentally

allen from those heights of strictest English to which he had b

he saddle with the blur that still hung like a cloud across his faculties, Sergeant King rode off to

d to witness the exodus of Sergeant King; "Bat ought to have downed him. However, he's makin' for Tascos

assented one of M

o employ a Panhandle method of marking the flight of time-the affair, as being dull and commonplace in its finale, was quite forgot

ore or bar or what other emporium best attracted their favour. There were no street lamps and the

dy Gay. The Lady Gay occupied the corner of two streets, and the lurking one was leaning against the side of that te

m, was sitting within touch of that small door. Had you returned to the lurking one without, and struck a match, you would have identified him as Sergeant King.

teboard side of the structure, and try to kill by ear, was nothing sure; the best that Sergeant King might do was wait and watch. Mayhap in the cha

Mexican wife was ill, and the Wild Rose, who cared nothing for caste under circumstances of sympathy, was nursing her. Something was

once upon her pretty face. There was enough of cynic humour in the sinister depths of Sergeant King to half curl his lips with a smile.

Rose. When she beheld him she started; he, on h

. Masterson said he wished to see you. He's just inside

the Wild Rose had the name involved been any other than that of Mr. Masterson. The mention of him swa

he wanted me?"

o the left and rear, he drew his six-shooter from its scabbard. There

tapped timid

ried a vo

ou wanted me." The blushes of the

turning of the key; the bolt wa

rson, to whom the voice and words of

e could be no talk of missing; the pistol was pressed against the side of Mr. Masterson. He staggered w

instead of one. The trained senses inside the Lady Gay averred later that the space to

nd clutching at the murderous pistol, threw herself between Sergeant King and Mr. Masterson. She was a breath too late for the first; the second, meant also f

ed the Wild Rose in his arms. She open

ted me," whisper

his own. Even as he gazed, the warm lights failed and faded; the rose flu