Prairie Flowers by James B. Hendryx

Prairie Flowers by James B. Hendryx

Author:James B. Hendryx [Hendryx, James B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781409926184
Publisher: Book Depository
Published: 2008-10-14T23:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER XV. PURDY MAKES A RIDE

Purdy's altercation with Grimshaw occurred on the night Alice Endicott and the Texan spent on the river. A raid on a bunch of Flying A mares had been planned for the following night, and early in the morning Grimshaw and the man called Bill, pulled out to the northward to locate the mares, while the other outlaws separated to skirmish the surrounding country and make sure that the coast was clear. Purdy's patrol took him into the vicinity of Red Sand Creek, and as he rode the outlaw smiled grimly: “Grimshaw's busted,” he muttered, “this one job an' he's through. It'll be the Purdy gang, then—an', believe me, we ain't goin' to stop at runnin' off a few head of horses. This country's lousy with money, just layin' around for someone to reach out an' take it—an' I'm the bird c'n do it! They'll be four of us, an' that's a-plenty. We'll clean up the Wolf River bank, an' the Zortman gold stage, an' the Lewiston bank, an' a train or two—then it's me for South America—an' to hell with 'em all!” He pulled up abruptly and sat gazing down upon the buildings of McWhorter's ranch. The cabin door opened, a woman stepped out, emptied a pan of dishwater, and entered the cabin again. “So, my pretty,” sneered the man, “you carry yer nose high. Yer too good for a horse-thief, eh? If you had your way McWhorter would have a posse camped on the ranch till they'd wiped us out. Guess I'll just slip down an' give you one more chanct. When Purdy's boss of the gang you won't be so damnsafe ! I ain't afraid of losin' no friends. Friends never got me nothin'. Damn the nesters! There won't be no deals when I'm runnin' the gang. It'll be every man for himself an' the devil take the hindmost. If a nester's got anything I want I'll reach out an' take it—nesters, or banks, or railroads—they all look alike to me. An' if McWhorter's huzzy don't throw in with me willin', she'll come along unwillin'. I'll break her. I'll take the snap out of them eyes, an' the sneer offen them red lips—she's the purtiest thing I've laid eyes on sence—sence Wolf River—an' I'm goin' to have her!” He swung down into the creek bed, spurred his horse into a run, and pulled up before the door with a flourish, heedless of the fact that one of his horse's hoofs ground a tiny lamb into the dirt. The door flew open and Janet McWhorter appeared. Her eyes rested for a moment on the little dead lamb, deep red mounted to her cheeks, and when she met Purdy's glance, her eyes blazed. The man laughed, and reaching into his pocket, tossing her a gold piece: “What's lambs worth?” he asked, “that had ought to pay for two or three of 'em. Why didn't the fool thing git out of the way?”

“You brute!” The girl's voice trembled with passion, and snatching the coin from the ground she hurled it into his face.



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