Martin Cole was the last of his life-long friends.
"This--this outlaw--you say you ran him down?" asked Naab, rising haggard
and shaken out of his grief.
"Yes. He didn't recognize me or know what was coming till Silvermane was
on him. But he was quick, and fell sidewise. Silvermane's knee sent him
sprawling."
"What will it all lead to?" asked August Naab, and in his extremity he
appealed to his eldest son.
"The bars are down," said Snap Naab, with a click of his long teeth.
"Father," began Dave Naab earnestly, "Jack has done a splendid thing.
The news will fly over Utah like wildfire. Mormons are slow. They need
a leader. But they can follow and they will. We can't cure these evils
by hoping and praying. We've got to fight!"
"Dave's right, dad, it means fight," cried George, with his fist clinched
high.
"You've been wrong, father, in holding back," said Zeke Naab, his lean
jaw bulging. "This Holderness will steal the water and meat out of our
children's mouths. We've got to fight!"
"Let's ride to White Sage," put in Snap Naab, and the little flecks in
his eyes were dancing. "I'll throw a gun on Dene.
Pages:
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224