He turned directly to Dan.
“But all this is aside from the point, which
is that the whole country is full of these silent
partners of the outlaws. The law plays a lone
hand in the mountain-desert.”
“You’ve played the lone hand and won twenty
times,” said Dan.
“Ay, but the twenty-first time I may fail.
The difference between success and failure in this
country is just the length of time it takes to pull
a trigger—and Silent is fast with a gun.
He’s the root of the outlaw power. We may
kill a hundred men, but till he’s gone we’ve
only mowed the weeds, not pulled them. But what’s
the use of talking? One second will tell the
tale when I stand face to face with Jim Silent and
we go for our six-guns. And somewhere between
that rising sun and those mountains I’ll find
Jim Silent and the end of things for one of us.”
He started his cattle-pony into a sudden gallop, and
they drove on into the bright morning.
CAIN
Hardly a score of miles away, Jim Silent and his six
companions topped a hill. He raised his hand
and the others drew rein beside him. Kate Cumberland
shifted her weight a little to one side of the saddle
to rest and looked down from the crest on the sweep
of country below. A mile away the railroad made
a streak of silver light across the brown range and
directly before them stood the squat station-house
with red-tiled roof. Just before the house, a
slightly broader streak of that gleaming light showed
the position of the siding rails. She turned
her head towards the outlaws. They were listening
to the final directions of their chief, and the darkly
intent faces told their own story. She knew,
from what she had gathered of their casual hints,
that this was to be the scene of the train hold-up.
It seemed impossible that this little group of men
could hold the great fabric of a train with all its
scores of passengers at their mercy. In spite
of herself, half her heart wished them success.
There was Terry Jordan forgetful of the wound in his
arm; Shorty Rhinehart, his saturnine face longer and
more calamitous than ever; Hal Purvis, grinning and
nodding his head; Bill Kilduff with his heavy jaw set
like a bull dog’s; Lee Haines, with a lock of
tawny hair blowing over his forehead, smiling faintly
as he listened to Silent as if he heard a girl tell
a story of love; and finally Jim Silent himself, huge,
solemn, confident. She began to feel that these
six men were worth six hundred.
She hated them for some reasons; she feared them for
others; but the brave blood of Joe Cumberland was
thick in her and she loved the danger of the coming
moment. Their plans were finally agreed upon,
their masks arranged, and after Haines had tied a similar
visor over Kate’s face, they started down the
hill at a swinging gallop.
In front of the house of the station-agent they drew
up, and while the others were at their horses, Lee
Haines dismounted and rapped loudly at the door.
It was opened by a grey-bearded man smoking a pipe.
Haines covered him. He tossed up his hands and
the pipe dropped from his mouth.
