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A Man Four-Square

BY WILLIAM MAC LEOD RAINE

AUTHOR OF THE YUKON TRAIL, BUCKY O'CONNOR, STEVE YEAGER, WYOMING, ETC.

1919

Contents

PROLOGUE

I. "CALL ME JIMMIE-GO-GET-'EM" II. SHOOT-A-BUCK CAÑON III. RANSE ROUSH PAYS IV. PAULINE ROUBIDEAU SAYS "THANK YOU" V. NO FOUR-FLUSHER VI. BILLIE ASKS A QUESTION VII. ON THE TRAIL VIII. THE FIGHT IX. BILLIE STANDS PAT X. BUD PROCTOR LENDS A HAND XI. THE FUGITIVES XII. THE GOOD SAMARITAN XIII. A FRIENDLY ENEMY XIV. THE GUN-BARREL ROAD XV. LEE PLAYS A LEADING RÔLE XVI. THREE MODERN MUSKETEERS XVII. "PEG-LEG" WARREN XVIII. A STAMPEDE XIX. A TWO-GUN MAN XX. EXIT MYSTERIOUS PETE XXI. JIM RECEIVES AND DECLINES AN OFFER XXII. THE RUSTLERS' CAMP XXIII. MURDER FROM THE CHAPARRAL XXIV. JIMMIE-GO-GET-'EM LEAVES A NOTE XXV. THE MAL-PAIS XXVI. A DUST-STORM XXVII. "A LUCKY GUY"XXVIII. SHERIFF PRINCE FUNCTIONS XXIX. "THEY CAN'T HANG ME IF I AIN'T THERE" XXX. POLLY HAS A PLAN XXXI. GOODHEART MAKES A PROMISE AND BREAKS IT XXXII. JIM TAKES A PRISONERXXXIII. THE ROUND-UP XXXIV. PRIMROSE PATHS

A Man Four-Square

Prologue

A girl sat on the mossy river-bank in the dappled, golden sunlight.Frowning eyes fixed on a sweeping eddy, she watched without seeing theracing current. Her slim, supple body, crouched and tense, wasmotionless, but her soul seethed tumultuously. In the bosom of her coarselinsey gown lay hidden a note. Through it destiny called her to thetragic hour of decision.

The foliage of the young pawpaws stirred behind her. Furtively a pair ofblack eyes peered forth and searched the opposite bank of the stream, thethicket of rhododendrons above, the blooming laurels below. Verystealthily a handsome head pushed out through the leaves.

"'Lindy," a voice whispered.

The girl gave a start, slowly turned her head. She looked at the owner ofthe voice from steady, deep-lidded eyes. The pulse in her brown throatbegan to beat. One might have guessed her with entire justice a sullenlass, untutored of life, passionate, and high-spirited, resentful of allrestraint. Hers was such beauty as lies in rich blood beneath darkcoloring, in dusky hair and eyes, in the soft, warm contours of youth.Already she was slenderly full, an elemental daughter of Eve, primitiveas one of her fur-clad ancestors. No forest fawn could have been moresensuous or innocent than she.

Again the man's glance swept the landscape cautiously before he moved outfrom cover. In the country of the Clantons there was always an openseason on any one of his name.

"What are you doin' here, Dave Roush?" the girl demanded. "Are youcrazy?"

"I'm here because you are, 'Lindy Clanton," he answered promptly. "That'sa right good reason, ain't it?"

The pink splashed into her cheeks like spilled wine.

"You'd better go. If dad saw you—"

He laughed hardily. "There'd be one less Roush—or one less Clanton," hefinished for her.

Dave Roush was a large, well-shouldered man, impressive in spite of hishomespun. If he carried himself with a swagger there was no lack ofboldness

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