His brother, Jim, chuckled. “An’ you tole me yuh chased this feller ragged when yuh was in the Texas Rangers.”
“I sure did,” the cattleman said ruefully. “I bet the Rangers winded a hundred horses chasin’ yuh when yuh was hangin’ around lower Texas. An’ we never got close enough to throw lead at yuh. Yuh still got them grays yuh had then?”
Allen’s face clouded as he glanced quickly at Snippets.
“I got one of ’em—but Queen is dead. I got her son, though.”
The ex-Ranger had heard that story. Snippets had told him how Allen had ridden his favorite horse to death in order to save her father. He understood what a sacrifice that had been—for to men who ride the long trail, horses become more than horses. They are friends, companions, and the only living things to be trusted. Sam Hogg cleared his throat.
“Heard about that,” he murmured. “It was sure a fittin’ end for a grand ol’ hoss. When my time comes I hopes I go out like that. I hears the whole town turned out unanimous and planted Queen in style.”
“Yeah,” Allen murmured dully. The others watched the little rancher and the even smaller outlaw in wonder. Bill Anderson glanced at Ace Cutts, who was close to the door now. Then his eyes once more sought Allen, and he sneered. A man who could sentimentalize over the death of a horse could hardly be as redoubtable an antagonist as rumor painted him.
Allen stepped away from the girl, who had laid her hand on his arm. He looked at Anderson and grinned once more.
“Let’s get down to business,” Tom Powers spoke.
“Sure, we’re wasting time,” Anderson snapped. “Allen, we think, because you are an outlaw, you may know the whereabouts of the Lava Gang. If you will lead us to them we will pay you well.”