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Brand, Max, 1892-1944

"Trailin'!"

Finally he settled to the chase, resolved on overtaking her. It
was no easy task, for she rode like a centaur, and she knew the way.


CHAPTER XXXI

NASH STARTS THE FINISH
Through the windows and the door the cowpunchers fled from the red
spurt of the flames, each man for himself, except Shorty Kilrain, who
stooped, gathered the lanky frame of Calamity Ben into his arms, and
staggered out with his burden. The great form of William Drew loomed
through the night.
His hand on the shoulder of Shorty, he cried: "Is he badly burned?"
"Shot," said Kilrain bitterly, "by the tenderfoot; done for."
It was strange to hear the big voice go shrill with pain.
"Shot? By Anthony? Give him to me."
Kilrain lowered his burden to the ground.
"You've got him murdered. Ain't you through with him? Calamity, he was
my pal!"
But the big man thrust him aside and knelt by the stricken cowpuncher.
He commanded: "Gather the boys; form a line of buckets from the pump;
fight that fire. It hasn't a hold on the house yet."
The habit of obedience persisted in Kilrain.


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