It was like puncturin' a
shadow!"
"Sure," nodded Sliver. "Shootin' by night ain't ever a sure thing."
Ronicky wiped his heated brow.
"So I sent Vic away before he had a chance to get real nervous. But when he
comes back--well, boys, it'll be kind of amusin' to watch Vic's face when
he saunters into town tomorrow and sees Dan Barry--maybe dead, maybe in the
irons. Eh?"
Only a deep silence answered him, but in the interest which his words
excited the terror seemed to have left Ronicky and Gus. They rode close,
their heads toward Sliver alone.
"There goes Vic," mused Sliver. "There he goes--go on. Mac, you old fool!--
scared to death, ridin' for his life. And why? Because he believes some
ghost stories he's heard about Dan Barry!"
"Ghost stories?" echoed Reeve. "Some of 'em ain't fairy tales, Sliver."
"Jest name one that ain't!"
"Well, the way he trailed Jim Silent. We've all heard of Silent, and Barry--
was too good for him."
"Bah," sneered Sliver. "Too good for Silent? Ye lied readily enough: booze
done for Silent long before Barry come along.
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