AC dBooks

He softly bolstered his gun. While he could not
understand English, he knew by the tone of the conversation that these
men were not the enemies of his weazened master.

"Seen anything of a kind of dark-complected young fella wearin' a black
Stetson and ridin' a blue roan?" queried Houck.
"Where was he from?" countered The Spider.
"The Concho, and ridin' a hoss with the Concho brand."
"Wanted bad?"
"Yes--a whole lot. He shot Steve Gary yesterday."
"Gary of the T-Bar-T?"
"The same--and a friend of mine," interpolated the cowboy Simpson.
"Huh! You say he's young--just a kid?"
"Yes. But a dam' tough kid."
"Pete Annersley, eh? Not the Young Pete that was mixed up in that raid
a few years ago?"
"The same."
"No--I didn't see anything of him," said The Spider.
"We trailed him down this way."
The Spider nodded.
"And we mean to keep right on ridin'--till we find him," blurted
Simpson.
Houck realized that The Spider knew more than he cared to tell.
Simpson had blundered in stating their future plans, Houck tried to
cover the blunder.


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