At daybreak a shot from one of the guards awakened every man within
hearing, and soon they romped and scampered down to the river's edge
to indulge in the luxury of a morning plunge. After an hour's
horseplay they trooped back to the cabin and soon had breakfast out of
the way.
Waffles, foreman of the O-Bar-O, and You-bet Somes strolled over to
the seven unfortunates who had just completed a choking breakfast and
nodded a hearty "Good morning." Then others came up and finally all
moved off toward the river. Crossing it, they disappeared into the
grove and all sounds of their advance grew into silence.
Mr. Trendley, escorted outside for the air, saw the procession as it
became lost to sight in the brush. He sneered and asked for a smoke,
which was granted. Then his guards were changed and the men began to
straggle back from the grove.
Mr. Trendley, with his back to the cabin, scowled defiantly at the
crowd that hemmed him in. The coolest, most damnable murderer in the
West was not now going to beg for mercy. When he had taken up crime as
a means of livelihood he had decided that if the price to be paid for
his course was death, he would pay like a man. He glanced at the
cottonwood grove, wherein were many ghastly secrets, and smiled. His
hairless eyebrows looked like livid scars and his lips quivered in
scorn and anger.
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