The Sheriff's Son
through her veins like the exquisite flush of dawn. Her lustrous eyes were wells of glad tears.
The owner of the horse ranch stood on the porch and watched a rider coming out of the gulch toward him. The man descended heavily from his horse and moved down the path. Rutherford eyed him grimly.
"Well, I'm back," the dismounted horseman said surlily.
"I see you are."
"Got out of the hospital Thursday."
"Hope you 've made up yore mind to behave, Dan."
"It does n't hurt a man to take a drink onc't in a while."
"Depends on the man. It put you in the hospital."
Meldrum ripped out a sudden oath. "Wait. Just wait till I get that pink-ear. I 'll drill him full of holes right."
"By God, you 'll not!" Rutherford's voice was like the snap of a whip. "Try it. Try it. I 'll hunt you down like a wolf and riddle yore carcass."
In amazement the ex-convict stared at him. "What's ailin' you, Rutherford?"
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