"Well," Lark's lips tightened, "so've I got a bad bunch around me, Maw. I can't look back at a time when folks didn't hesitate some before they tackled the Meddalark outfit."
"The Meddalark never locked horns with old man Palmer yet. Lark, if you take my advice, you'll send a man up to the old lookout your dad fixed on the rim. That's the weak point of the whole Basin, Lark, and you know it. A man could stand up there with a rifle and pick off the whole bunch down here. There'll be trouble over this boy, sure as you live. If you got him away from Palmer there'll be shooting, and you better oil up your six-gun and get ready for it."
"Why, Maw, you danged old outlaw, you!" Lark laughed. "There wasn't any shootin' when I kidnaped you."
"Nobody cared about me, Lark. This is different."
"Yeah," Lark admitted thoughtfully, "mebbe it is."
[CHAPTER TWO]
SMALLPOX HAS ITS USES
Down through the pass came two riders, drenched with the storm that had lasted through the day, with intermittent gusts of booming wind and vicious lightning, then long, steady down-pours as if the whole heavens were awash and there would be no end to the falling water. From the window overlooking the Basin Bud saw them lope heavily into the meadow trail, small geysers of clean rain water thrown up into the sunset glow whenever the horses galloped into a hollow. Bud lounged across the room and put his head into the kitchen.
"Two riders coming, Maw. Better keep that kid out of sight."