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Cordilleras and I never would have been caught if I hadn’t
stopped to help a sick Mexican.”
    â€œA sick Mexican?”
    â€œYes’m. The poor
fellow had hurt his ankle in a fall from the horse he was riding and when I passed
him in the trail, I couldn’t leave him there for the wolves, could I?”
    â€œYou knew they were
after you?”
    â€œYes’m. I could see
their dust, but the Mexican—”
    â€œWhy were you running
away?”
    â€œOh, I know there’s
been a lot of talk. And when a friend of mine told me that they were after me,
I knew I wouldn’t have a chance, no matter how innocent I was. So I tried to
get away.”
    â€œYou’ve been in jail
before?”
    â€œNo, ma’am !”
    â€œWhy did they single
you out as their game?”
    â€œWell, ma’am, there’s
been quite a bit of rustling going on what with Con Mathews tryin’ to keep from
going broke and they had to pick on somebody. And since I stopped Con
Mathews from shooting a Mexican woman in cold blood—”
    â€œWhen did that
happen?”
    â€œDidn’t you hear about
it, ma’am? But then, of course, Con Mathews wouldn’t ever tell about it, what
with all the things he and Big Bill Bailey have done to rid the range of sheep.
Not that they’re bad, ma’am, and Big Bill is a nice fellow, but sheep and
cattle just don’t mix, and neither do Indians and whites. You really want to
know why they got me, ma’am?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWell, you knew I was
half-Apache and half-Irish, didn’t you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWell, I am. And
nobody around here ever had any use for me. The Indians wouldn’t have anything
to do with me because I was half-white and the whites won’t have anything to do
with me because I’m half-Indian and nobody ever let me hold a job very long.
After I got an education in the mission school, I had just nothing but trouble
every place I went because the big cattlemen wouldn’t let the Mexicans alone
and the sheepmen keep driving out the small ranchers, and honest, ma’am, I
can’t stand around and see things like that happen all the time.”
    â€œOf course not!”
    â€œBut there’s no use
wasting any sympathy upon me, ma’am. I’m done for. A lynch mob or the law will
hang me. But God is the only one who can judge me. And when I stand before His
Great Judgment Seat, I shall not be afraid.”
    He almost broke down
at this point and his handsome face was sad but brave. “To help those who need
help is no crime in His eyes, ma’am, and I have done only that which I
considered right. Waste no sympathy. The will of the crowd will be done.”
    Susan was touched. Her
face hardened into determination. “Don’t give up hope. I’ll find a way to help
you.”

Chapter Four
    W HEN Susan Price got back to the
ranch she found Big Bill sitting on the top step with her eight-year-old
brother, Buster. Big Bill was demonstrating the border shift to an apt pupil
when he heard Susan. He thrust his .45 into its holster and took off his hat as
he stood up.
    Buster looked
reproachfully around Big Bill’s right leg. “Hell,” said Buster. “I was just
gettin’ the hang of it and you had to come along.”
    â€œBuster!” said Susan.
    â€œAwright. Heck, then.”
    â€œMa’am,”
said Big Bill, “I’m glad to see you got home all right. I was wondering . . .”
    â€œThank you,” said
Susan.
    â€œMa’am, I was
wondering if you still felt sorry for that polecat , Spick Murphy. I got to
thinking about it and remembering the way he’s got with the women and—”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œWell, you got mixed
up in a sheep war and I thought if you was goin’ to get mixed up in this, I
better try to ride you off. Spick’s goin’ to be lynched and that’s all there is
to it.