Bad Man's Gulch Read Online Free PDF Page A

he had taken upon his shoulders rested lightly there. He was with Marion constantly until he came to be half bodyguard and half escort to her, riding with her or walking over the mountain paths.
    But all that while the shadow of trouble followed them, even when they knew it not, as the hawk circles high in the air above the barnyard, a real danger although flying out of sight. It was Henry McLane who lurked about the mountains with his rifle, alert, soft-footed, dangerous as a stalking panther, and as silent. A dozen times he had seen them walking or riding together at a distance, but only once did he come close enough to stalk them effectively.
    He had seen them walking at some distance away from them, and he hurried after them as fast as he could through the brush at the side of the road. Once or twice twigs crackled under his feet and made the pair halt to listen, but they went on again. He could hear them talking and laughing, and it infuriated him.
    When he came within close range at last, they had paused at the edge of a small stream that foamed about the shoulder of a hill and went on noisily down the valley. They were considering some method of getting across the water without wettingMarion. Lazy Purdue had proposed to carry her across, but she demurred. The faintness of her demurral angered Henry McLane. They were standing well apart. He was in no danger of striking Marion with his shot. So he knelt upon a log and carried his rifle to his shoulder for a careful aim. But the log, which was rotten save for the outside shell, crushed under his sudden weight.
    At the sound, Lazy Purdue swung Marion into his left arm and whipped out his revolver, keeping it leveled at the place where McLane crouched unseen. In this manner he backed across the stream and disappeared around the bushes on the farther side.
    They could guess at the cause of the sound, but they had seen nothing. The hawk had crossed their path unseen.
    From the Negroes, who form the wireless news agencies of the Southern states, the Conovers heard tales of the actions of the McLanes. They were preparing for the worst. The boys practiced with their guns incessantly, and, whenever they appeared on the roads, the three men rode together. So it was when the day of the fair came and Lazy Purdue announced in the morning at the breakfast table that he was going to the town to take part in the sports.
    â€œI hear there ain’t no fightin’ of the old feuds on fair days,” he said.
    â€œThere never was in the past,” agreed John Conover.
    â€œThat’s not sayin’ there won’t be none now,” interjected Mary Conover. “Boy, don’t be foolish. There’s no trustin’ the McLane boys. If they’ll fight from behind trees, do ye think they will respect the old laws of the feud?”
    Lazy Purdue ticked the spoon lightly against hiscoffee cup. “I’m powerful curious to see the folks of this here town,” he stated, “an’ I think I’ll be goin’ there today. Besides” he continued, “ain’t Marion goin’ to be queen o’ the fair?”
    â€œAye,” said Mary Conover, and she flushed slightly with pride as she spoke. “She had to start for town early before breakfast because she has to see how they fix up her throne and see that all is all right an’ that her court is already in their costumes, an’ all of them silly, pretty ways they have at the fair.”
    â€œAye,” said Conover, “this is the first time there won’t be a Conover to shoot for the queen of the fair.”
    â€œShoot for the queen?” exclaimed Lazy Purdue. Then he remembered. He remembered far back to his childhood when he had seen these fairs that made the month of May the wished-for time by every mountaineer within thirty miles of the town. The fair itself consisted of exhibitions of riding and cattle and horse shows and sports, and at the end of the day the youths of