Page:Cherokee Trails (1928).pdf/267

 strain at dawn, and was asleep when the rider came.

Wallace Ramsey was the man who came riding hard as the sun was rising. Mrs. Ellison's heart gave one great bound of apprehension, then seemed to stop as she heard the rider halt at the gate. She was at the window as he rode through. Waco Johnson, his pancakes fried in the fat of his bacon, his scalding coffee drunk, was coming from the corral to meet him.

Wallace had come directly from Coburn's ranch, having been an incredibly short time on the way. By the time Mrs. Ellison and Eudora had dressed, quickly as prairie women can accomplish that feat, Wallace had told what he had come riding to bear.

Coburn had returned home from Drumwell between midnight and morning after a forced ride. There was a gang of squaw men and mongrels up from the Nation, drinking and carousing at Kane's, making no secret of their intention to wait there until Simpson came in with another load of bones, when they intended to kill him. The toughs of Drumwell, notably the marshal, were lined up with the friends and relatives of Wade Harrison's gang who had lost their lives in Simpson's recent foray against them.

Wallace had hopped his horse at once, at Coburn's request as well as his own inclination, in the hope of reaching the Ellison ranch before Simpson left. He was greatly concerned when he learned that he was twenty-four hours too late.

Mrs. Ellison turned on Waco with severe censure for keeping the facts from her when he knew Tom was going out against such great odds. Waco did not shrivel in