Front matter (continued 2)

“I guess we have!” snorted a cowboy. “Yo’re all through, you dirty half-breed.”

Jack shut his lips tightly.

“Reber’s been hit hard,” said one of the men. “That feller down at the stable got him.”

They led Jack around to where Reber was lying. But Jack paid no attention to Reber; he was staring at old Buck Priest, who was barely able to sit in his saddle.

Park Reber had the men lift him to a sitting position. He looked at Jack Silver closely.

“I swore I’d get you, Silver,” he said. “I started out last night to clean out the valley. I don’t know how badly I’m hurt, but it’s bad enough. But you’ve stolen your last cow, kidnaped your last woman. If you’ve got any prayers to say you better say ’em.”

“I’m not prayin’,” said Jack coldly. “I never stole yore cows and I never kidnaped any woman.”

“What else could yuh say?” cried Reber, and then to his men, “Run a rope over the ridge-pole of the stable.”

The men hurried to do his bidding. Old Buck Priest had heard Reber’s order, and it seemed to amuse him greatly.

“Goin’ to hang the lad, eh?” he laughed. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That’s good! Goin’ to die with that on yore dirty soul, eh? It’s like yuh, Reber.”

He turned to Jack, who was being held by two men.

“Reber’s men bushwhacked me last night, Jack. They killed Ken Mader. Yesterday afternoon they killed O’Steen.”

“You lie!” declared Reber weakly. “You’re tryin’ to turn it around. You stole my cattle and my men caught yuh.”

“And yore men shot Sam Herd yesterday, Priest,” declared Nelson.

“Lies!” panted Buck. “All lies! We didn’t know Herd was dead until we met yuh at the forks of the road, Nelson.”

“The rope’s ready, Park,” called one of the men.

One of the cowboys threw a noose around Jack’s neck, but he did not quiver. He was probably the coolest man in the crowd.

“Have you said yore prayer?” asked Reber.

Jack shut his lips tightly.

“All right,” said Reber weakly.

“I wish you’d wait until June Meline recovers,” said Jack. “She might have somethin’ to say.”

“Your time is up, Silver.”

“Yuh better not hang him,” said Buck Priest. “You’ll be sorry, Reber. Ain’t there nothin’ that can save him?”

“Not a thing, Priest.”

“All right, Reber. Go ahead and hang him. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Hang him, you dirty old pup! Hang yore own son, and be ⸺ to yuh! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

In spite of his weakness, Reber jerked forward, staring at Buck Priest. Jack Silver stumbled forward, his eyes on the curiously twisted features of the old cattleman. Reber tore his gaze away and looked at Jack Silver.

“You lie, Priest!” he said.

“I don’t lie! He’s your son, Park. His mother died when he was born and he was nursed by a squaw. Ask him who his father was—he don’t know, I tell yuh!”

Jack shook his head.

“I kept track of him, Park,” said Priest. “I shipped him to school and paid for it. I wanted an ace in the hole. You’ve always wondered if there was a child. Look at him, Reber. He’s yore own flesh and blood—and you’re goin’ to hang him! Let’s get it over with, Reber. I want to see you hang yore own son.”

Reber shut his eyes, and after a few moments the tears trickled down his cheeks. The wound was sapping his strength. It was a long way to a doctor, and he knew he couldn’t live till one came.

One of his men came bustling into the crowd.

“Hey,” he shouted, “that fellow down by the stable is Bell, of this ranch, and the one on the hill up there is Bob Cliff, of the Lightnin’! What does it mean?”

“It means that Reber’s own men planned to clean him out,” said Jack Silver. “They kidnaped June Meline. I found her and brought her here. Last night Bell killed McLeese. He was on the porch and he’s burned up by this time. I think you’ll find that the Circle X, Lightnin’ and Two Bar X outfits were makin’ a big steal, but circumstances blocked ’em.”

Reber opened his eyes and stared at Jack.

“Is that all true, Jack?” he asked.

“The girl’s awake,” burst in one of the men.

They brought her over to Reber. She saw the rope around Jack’s neck.

“He—he saved me!” she said hoarsely to Reber. “Jack Silver wasn’t to blame. It was your own men. Oh, you’ve been hurt again!”

Reber leaned back and his face was very white now.

“Come in close, boys,” he said weakly. “Listen to what I’m sayin’. No time to write. Jack Silver is my son. Everything I own belongs to him. I think Buck Priest taught him to hate me. I—I didn’t kill off his herd of cattle. Mebbe my men did it. But it’s all right now. He owns this valley and everything else I have.

“Get Buck Priest to a doctor. I don’t hate him any more. He gave me back my son. Jack—come closer. This—is—June. She’s—fine. I—I—”

His head fell forward on his chest.

There was little left of the old ranchhouse when Jack Silver and June Meline stood beside the body of Park Reber, who seemed to be smiling in his sleep. Nelson came up to Jack and held out his hand.

“You’ll have to hire new crews, Jack,” he said. “I imagine a lot of Diamond R men went over the West Fork pass this mornin’.”

“Let ’em go,” said Jack. “There’s been enough killin’.”

He put his good arm around June and they went down toward the stables, where the men were rigging a stretcher to carry Buck Priest back to his ranch.

Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the May 15, 1927 issue of Adventure magazine.