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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"The Untamed"

Rogers started up with
a curse and gripped his revolver.
"I never knew you was so fond of gun play," said Dan. "Maybe that gun
of yours would be catchin' cold if you was to leave it out of the
leather long?"
The sheriff restored his revolver slowly to the holster, glowering.
"An' Rogers won't be needin' you for a minute or two," went on Dan to
Hardy.
They seemed to fear even his voice. The Wells Fargo agent vanished
through the door and clattered down the steps.
"How long you been standin' at that door?" said Rogers, gnawing his
lips.
"Jest for a breathin' space," said Dan.
Rogers squinted his eyes to make up for the dimness of the lamplight.
"By God!" he cried suddenly. "You're Whistlin' Dan Barry!"
He dropped into his chair and passed a trembling hand across his
forehead.
He stammered: "Maybe you've changed your mind an' come back for that
five thousand?"
"No, I've come for a man, not for money."
"A man?"
"I want Lee Haines before the crowd gets him."
"Would you really try to take Haines out?" asked Rogers with a touch
of awe.
"Are there any guards in the jail?"
"Two. Lewis an' Patterson."
"Give me a written order for Haines.


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