The Sheriff's Son
Without the least hesitation Ryan spoke out. "You 'll hear that he's got more guts than any man in Washington County—that he does n't know what fear is. Then likely you 'll be told it's natural enough, since he's the son of Jack Beaudry, the fighting sheriff. Ever-rybody believes that excipt you and me, Dave. We know better."
"What do we know, Pat?"
"We know that the bye is up against a man-size job and is scared stiff."
"Hmp! Was he scared when he licked a dozen men at the Silver Dollar and laid out for repairs three of the best fighters in New Mexico?"
"You 're shouting right he was, Dave. No man alive could 'a' done it if he had n't been crazy with fright."
Dingwell laughed. "Hope I'm that way, then, when I get into my next tight place." He added after a moment: "The trouble with the boy is that he has too much imagination. He makes his own private little hell beforehand."
"I reckon he never learned to ride herd on his fears."
"Jack Beaudry told me about him onc't. The kid was born after his mother had been
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