The Sheriff's Son
When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the shock of his life. In Dingwell's competent hand was a revolver aimed at his heart.
The man turned savagely to Beulah. "So I'm the goat," he said with a curse. "Rutherford is going to frame me, is he? I'm to go to the pen in place of the whole bunch. Is that it?"
"No, you 've guessed wrong. Yore hide is safe this time, Meldrum," the cattleman explained. "Reach for the roof. No, don't do that. … Now, turn yore face to the wall."
Dave stepped forward and gathered in the forty-four of the enemy. He also relieved him of his "skinning" knife. With the deft hands of an old roper he tied the man up and flung him on the bed.
This done, Dingwell made straight for the larder. Though he was ravenous, the cattleman ate with discretion. Into his pockets he packed all the sandwiches they would hold.
"Is it true that you—that they did n't give you anything to eat?" asked Beulah.
He looked at her—and lied cheerfully.
"Sho, I got cranky and would n't eat. Yore folks treated me fine. I got my neck bowed. Can't blame them for that, can I?"
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