CHAPTER XXXII.
PREPARATION.
THAT same night, Mr. Lane told his daughter that he would leave home early the next morning to be gone two days. Jim was cleaning his big forty-five when he made the announcement.
Sammy paused with one hand on the cupboard door to ask, "With Wash Gibbs, Daddy?"
"No, I ain't goin' with Wash; but I'll likely meet up with him before I get back." There was a hint of that metallic ring in the man's voice.
The girl placed her armful of dishes carefully on the cupboard shelf; "You're—you're not going to forget your promise, are you, Daddy Jim?"
The mountaineer was carefully dropping a bit of oil into the lock of his big revolver. "No, girl, I ain't forgettin' nothin'. This here's the last ride I aim to take with Wash. I'm goin' to see him to,"—he paused and listened carefully to the click, click, click, as he tested the action of his weapon—"to keep my promise."
"Oh, Daddy, Daddy, I'm so glad! I wanted this more than I ever wanted anything in all my life
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