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GLASS VS. BULLETS
By Frank Filson.
The sheriff had known all along
that the half-breed girl .was tricking
him. But "Big Tom" Bagley had
meant to be tricked. He wanted to
set eyes upon "Kid" Long, not to fol
low a dubious trail that might lead
nowhere. And he had been certain
Creeping Cautiously Through the
that, at some time or other, the "Kid"
would show up at Naida's shack.
Naida lived alone, save for the old
crone who was said to be her mother
and looked like her great-grandmother,
twelve miles out in kthe Painted
Desert It is the cruelest of all deserts.
It breeds scorpions and gilas and ven
omous things, and those who take
to it, whether perforce or from nat
ural anity, share the same nature.
Half Spanish, half Indian, Naida, at
seventeen, was a fit mate for the
"Kid," the most bloodthirsty, and at
the same time cowardly, of the bad
men of Parthenon county. The list
of deaths which he had checked off
in notches on the barrel of his Win
chester had all been of inoffensive
men, and nearly all had been killed
unarmed or unawares. "Big Tom"
Bagley had laughed when he was
warned of the outlaw's reputation.
James Penney, the sheep owner, a
man universally esteemed for his
quiet, law-abiding nature, had been
shot in the back by "Kid" Long, on
account of some grudge the outlaw
bore, and Bagley had just taken down
his rifle, saddled his mare and ridden
out to Naida's cabin.
At first the Indian girl tried an af
fectation of Ignorance, then cajolery,
then threats. None of these moved
"Big Tom." "I reckon if your man
ain't here he'll be along soon," he
said, and took up his quarters in the
Naida began to be in deadly fear of
the big, quiet man who treated her
with such deference. She planned to
ride out to the "Kid" and give him
warning. The "Kid" was lying up
among the hills, fearing a posse, and
it was cold there. He longed for the
comfort of the cabin. But if he had
known that only "Big Tom" was
there he would not have hesitated for
a moment. The coyote is always a
match for the lion m guile.
As soon as Naida, at dawn, had
leaped upon the back of her mustang
she saw Bagley standing in the door
way. "Going riding, Miss Naida?" drawl
ed the sheriff). "I reckon I'll go along
with you, to see you don't come to no
For answer Naida dug her heels in
to the pony's flanks, and the desert
bred steed was away like the wind.
But, half an hour later, when it pulled
up, breathless, with leaving flanks,
the sheriff was at Naida's side, and
his mare, though blown, was still un
winded. "Best be getting home for break
fast, hadn't we?" he asked with a