The Sheriff's Son
"You 've made a good bargain," Beaudry told the buyer.
"’Course he has, and he knows it." Dingwell opened on Roy his gay smile. "I hear you 've had a run-in with the bad man of Chicito Cañon, son."
Roy looked at the Denver man reproachfully. Ever since the affair on the station platform he had been flogging himself because he had driven away and left Meldrum in possession of the field. No doubt all Battle Butte knew now how frightened he had been. The women were gossiping about it over their tea, probably, and men were retailing the story in saloons and on sidewalks.
"I did n't want any trouble," he said apologetically. "I—I just left him."
"That's what I 've been hearing," assented Dave dryly. "You merely showed him up for a false alarm and kicked him into the discard. That's good, and it's bad. We know now that Meldrum won't fight you in the open. You 've got him buffaloed. But he 'll shoot you in the back if he can do it safely. I know the cur. After this don't ride alone, Roy, and don't ride that painted hoss at all. Get you a nice quiet buckskin that melts into the atmosphere like a
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