The Rider of Golden Bar

by William Patterson White

"What color were the whiskers?"

"Oh, black."

"Was his hair black?"

"Yop, his hair was black."

"Was he a li'l, short, runty feller?"

"Nope, he was a big, tall feller, skinny sort of."

"Did you hear his name?"

"His friend called him Damn-your-soul sometimes and Jack sometimes."

So Jack Murray had gathered unto himself a friend. This was interesting, especially as Jack was apparently still cherishing plans for revenge. If Jack and the anonymous friend were in the vicinity of Dorothy, it behooved a man in Billy's position to look to himself.

Billy had no illusions about Jack Murray. The man was perfectly capable of making another try at him from ambush. He did not believe that Jack would "snitch." Such procedure would indubitably attract too much public attention to Jack. He couldn't afford that. Not with three thousand dollars on his head.