Frank Cameron had let himself go after his wife died. Fences weren't fixed, stalls needed work on them, half the time he didn't bother to shave or put on a clean shirt. But he still straddled good water and Jim Dahlman came after it. _x000D__x000D__x000D__x000D_He brought thirty riders and pulled down the fences, burned down the house, and left Cameron shot in the leg on the ground. _x000D__x000D__x000D__x000D_Henry Butler, his hired hand, older than Frank, got him into a dugout where Dahlman couldn't find him. A half-breed woman, part Kiowa, lived there with a young girl who had lost her family. Henry told her, "Keep him safe."_x000D__x000D__x000D__x000D_Henry told Cameron, "I'm going to go get your boys."_x000D__x000D__x000D__x000D_Tom Cameron was the foreman for the largest ranch in Texas. Reuben Cameron lived in the mountains and came down now and then only to lead a wagon train to Oregon. Morgan Cameron was a gambler with a knack with a gun. Henry found all three and they came back home from different directions, one at a time._x000D__x000D__x000D__x000D_And Jim Dahlman was done.
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