To The Last Man, The Mysterious Rider & Desert Gold (A Wild West Trilogy). Zane Grey
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"That y'u, Jean?" returned the rancher, looming up. "Wal, we wasn't worried aboot y'u."
"Blue?" queried Jean, sharply.
A little, dark figure shuffled past Jean. "Howdy, Jean!" said Blue, dryly. "Y'u shore did your part. Reckon I'll need to be tied up, but I ain't hurt much."
"Colmor's hit," called the voice of Gordon, a few yards distant. "Help me, somebody!"
Jean ran to help Gordon uphold the swaying Colmor. "Are you hurt—bad?" asked Jean, anxiously. The young man's head rolled and hung. He was breathing hard and did not reply. They had almost to carry him.
"Come on, men!" called Blaisdell, turning back toward the others who were still firing. "We'll let well enough alone.... Fredericks, y'u an' Bill help me find the body of the old man. It's heah somewhere."
Farther on down the road the searchers stumbled over Gaston Isbel. They picked him up and followed Jean and Gordon, who were supporting the wounded Colmor. Jean looked back to see Blue dragging himself along in the rear. It was too dark to see distinctly; nevertheless, Jean got the impression that Blue was more severely wounded than he had claimed to be. The distance to Meeker's cabin was not far, but it took what Jean felt to be a long and anxious time to get there. Colmor apparently rallied somewhat. When this procession entered Meeker's yard, Blue was lagging behind.
"Blue, how air y'u?" called Blaisdell, with concern.
"Wal, I got—my boots—on—anyhow," replied Blue, huskily.
He lurched into the yard and slid down on the grass and stretched out.
"Man! Y'u're hurt bad!" exclaimed Blaisdell. The others halted in their slow march and, as if by tacit, unspoken word, lowered the body of Isbel to the ground. Then Blaisdell knelt beside Blue. Jean left Colmor to Gordon and hurried to peer down into Blue's dim face.
"No, I ain't—hurt," said Blue, in a much weaker voice. "I'm—jest killed! ... It was Queen! ... Y'u all heerd me—Queen was—only bad man in that lot. I knowed it.... I could—hev killed him.... But I was—after Lee Jorth an' his brothers...."
Blue's voice failed there.
"Wal!" ejaculated Blaisdell.
"Shore was funny—Jorth's face—when I said—King Fisher," whispered Blue. "Funnier—when I bored—him through.... But it—was—Queen—"
His whisper died away.
"Blue!" called Blaisdell, sharply. Receiving no answer, he bent lower in the starlight and placed a hand upon the man's breast.
"Wal, he's gone.... I wonder if he really was the old Texas King Fisher. No one would ever believe it.... But if he killed the Jorths, I'll shore believe him."
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