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Show 0jjW By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM J& EUGENE CUNNINGHAM W.N.U. RELEASE vT . fcon checked him reprovingly. THE STORY SO FAR: In the railroad town of Wild Horse after bis first experience experi-ence riding berd, Con-Cameron goes witb Caramba Vear, another cowband, to the Drovers' Saloon. There they see Asa Brock, a buyer, quarrel with a catUe man named Nevt! Lowe, who won't sell to blm. Brock is a sharp trader and a crooked one, but he has the law, in the person of Dynamite Downes, Uie marshal, mar-shal, on his side. In the midst of a faro game Con misses Caramba and goes to 6nd him. On the way be sees Lowe kiss a pretty girl good-by and put her on a train. He locates Caramba at the Widow Kleiss' bouse and then goes back to the Drovers'. There he saves Lowe from being be-ing shot by one of Brock's crowd, a deputy dep-uty marshal called "El Muchacho," and has to get out of town In a hurry. Later, on the trail, he meets some cowboys from other ranches and learns that the story of his fight bas already traveled far and that the country around there Is no longer safe for him. He starts on, having been warned against the town of Fronteras and all the people In it. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER III Fronteras looked harmless, from the height where Con sat Pancho to stare downward. The single "street" was empty except for a horseman and a file of wood-burdened burros moving slowly. He pushed the sorrel down the winding trail, looking with very real interest to right and left. A shabby young man with cheerful, freckled face said Hi! and waved toward a large house out of which came an unmusical, deep-toned chanting. "Just Quirk Ellis," the freckled cowboy reassured Con. "Him and his one song." "Thanks!" Con said, smiling faintly, wondering if this friendly cowboy would be one of those visitors visi-tors to Fronteras of whom Easy and Two Eyes and Hogpen had warned him. He wondered what he would actually actu-ally find in the big cantina. He twisted slightly to let his shell belt move and holstered pistol sag more comfortably. Then he walked into the dusky, dirt-floored room and looked all around. There was a bar made of rough planking and tables of the same rude carpentry around the walls. Boxes and kegs and stools seemed to serve the dozen customers or loafers as seats. At the far end of the bar a big man slouched with a tin cup and a bottle before him. He stared fixedly at Con and continued to sing huskily: "And now my time Is drawing nigh When for my evil I must die. So all young men be warned by me And shun all evil companeee " As his eyes accustomed themselves them-selves to the gloom of the low room. Con faced the drinkers blankly. Quirk Ellis was a florid man with long, sandy hair, by his rough clothing cloth-ing cowman or cowboy. A tall and slim man near Ellis was very neat, his blue shirt looking as if just ironed, his dark trousers drawn over the legs of glistening kid boots. But Con disliked the hatched face with great hooked nose, and dark eyes sunk in deep sockets, and straight, almost lipless, mouth. Three men close together were nearer Con. Two looked like brothers, vaguely alike in towy hair and square, sullen, sul-len, beard-stubbled faces. The third was a hulking red-faced man heavier heav-ier even than Quirk Ellis, as shabby as his companions. "Howdy!" Con greeted them all generally. "If there's no objection. I'll buy the drinks. For the house." "I got thirteen dollars in this pocket." pock-et." Ellis announced at last, sandy head on one side as he looked at his money. "So I'll, give you that for the sorrel. But you ought to throw in that carbeen. account of the way you're skinning me. Pack it in here and stand it up in the corner yonder. yon-der. I'm awful tired, somehow, today. Here!" He yawned and indicated the silver. sil-ver. Con looked at all the faces within range, without seeming to having his first drink. The bartend- er began a yell of protest, but Con was across the floor with the gun hammers back under his thumbs before be-fore anyone could interfere. He slid outside and put his back to the wall. Ellis had seen him instantly and with flashing jerk drawn his pistol and leveled it But the grin froze on bis face as he saw the shotgun. Con drew a long breath and made himself relax against the wall. "At your age," he said carefully, "and I really don't know how you ever got to be that age, either, your hearing's naturally poor. You evidently evi-dently thought I said I'd sell Pancho. Pan-cho. But what I said was that I don't want to sell him. So put the little popper away and saddle him again." "Better put that down, sonny," Ellis told him harshly. "It might go off and hurt somebody. Put it down, or " A' "You're right," Con agreed. . "It might go off and . hurt somebody right where you're standing. In fact, if you're thinking of doing anything with that hogleg, you'd better do it. Make up your mind. I'm ramrod-ding ramrod-ding this hurrah and I say you've got five seconds. One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four ..." He saw Ellis' shoulder stiffen slightly, then relax. The Colt sagged while he watched tensely. From the corner of his eye he saw the packed doorway. But he watched while Ellis El-lis reholstered the pistol and took a step toward him. Then he gestured with the shotgun. "Your hearing!" he said irritably. "I said: Saddle him! And do it right. Even if I let my tender heart get the best of me and just shoot you in the legs, you won't like it! For this cannon will probably carry high ..." "Now, listen, sonny " "You listen! It's .your hearjng that's bad. Get that saddle back on, or " From the barroom the voice of . the bartender was suddenly lifted, yelling indignantly about his shotgun. shot-gun. Con only gestured toward the door with the muzzles and there was the sound of sudden scrambling scram-bling and oaths of those trampled. Ellis, furiously red, leaned to the fallen saddle. Con directed him critically crit-ically as he put on the blanket and settled the saddle upon it. When the cinchas were tight and Ellis would have stopped. Con checked him re- "Riding, are you?" Welsh asked Con. "You can side us, if you are so minded. We're cutting stick, too. Maybe for Faith. No never mind whichaway. Just saddle lobosl" "Glad to side you," said Con. "Barkeep, I am buying this one." Quirk Ellis seemed to have decided de-cided to bide his time. He said nothing when Con asked with exaggerated exag-gerated politeness for the "pleasure "pleas-ure of his company" outside. He came to stand before the hitch rack, florid face blank. Con broke the shotgun in shelter of Pancho, extracted ex-tracted the shells and put them in his pocket. With the carbine across his arm, he set the shotgun at the hitch-rack end and tossed a dollar to the bartender, who stood sourly behind Ellis. The four swung into their saddles. For several days they rode slowly westward, missing the towns, getting get-ting tobacco and meals at little pla-zitas, pla-zitas, or stopping overnight at some small ranch. They were in no hurry. hur-ry. Con least of all. At the little ranch they talked with a blue-eyed, red-haired Mexican Mexi-can deputy sheriff. He was a friendly friend-ly and talkative soul, this Martino Palafox. A shrewd and efficient man, top. Con decided; his quick glances missed very little. He was riding from Anthony to Faith on an errand for his superior, the sheriff. sher-iff. In the slow talk, he spoke of Ti-van, Ti-van, farther west; a good little town, he called it; a salty little town. Milam Mi-lam Fant, marshal of a half-dozen hell-roaring cowtowns up and down, had come home to be sheriff. Martino Mar-tino spoke admiringly of Fant's gunplay. gun-play. "He's what my people call un bru-jo bru-jo a wizard. About as slick as they come. I heard that he had a deputy in Wild Horse named Dynamite Dyna-mite Downes, about as fast. That's hard to believe." "How about Nevil Lowe?" Con asked carefully. "Is he fast?" "Well, he's always been fast enough. But 1 wouldn't put him anywhere's near a Milam Fant. Uh-uh. Uh-uh. But Nevil's one of them fellows as calm as a cat in the sun. Awful hard to figure and he's figuring all the time. He's stood and just looked himself out of lots of sdrapes a shaky man would've killed somebody some-body in, or got killed himself. If you're figuring on hitting him up for jobs, he's one of the best to ride for Him and his sister both, they're fine people." Con called to mind the pretty face of that'dark-haired, dark-eyed girl, small and graceful, admired in Wild Horse. A sister, not a wife . . . And Nevil Lowe was a good man to work for . . . The Raniers. Lee Welsh, and Con slept on a narrow porch at the back of the house. Con heard them talking talk-ing after all had rolled in their blankets, but they kept their voices down so that he caught only mutter-ings. mutter-ings. He forgot them, presently. Ti-van Ti-van sounded interesting. He tried to recall what Hugh Nor-ris Nor-ris had said at one time or another, over a period of years, about Tivan. But he could remember nothing definite. def-inite. At some time, his uncle had been in Tivan and exciting, interesting interest-ing things had happened. But Con could not piece together the bits of stories to make them explain Hugh Norris. All he could recall was his boyish conviction that Tivan must be a wonderful place to see, and his determination to go there some day. Now, he was going. Nevil Lowe had a ranch in the neighborhood . . . And certainly he had saved Nevil Lowe's life in Wild Horse . . . It was pleasant to look forward to meeting Lowe. He had no intention of introducing himself as Lowe's rescuer. res-cuer. But he could inquire about the herd and Lowe's trouble with Asa Brock, then remark casually that he had thought a bowling ball or two might help. And what was the pretty pret-ty sister's name? Janet! Through the quick breakfast, Con found Martino watching him. But he said nothing more. All of them saddled, Andy the rancher to ride northA'ard with Martino. The rest of them went west. (TO BE CONTINUED) provmgiy. "Why, it's all dusty! Wipe it nice and clean with your hat if you can'l find anything else. If you want to argue, just think how much use you'll have for that hat, if you don't!" Ellis glared but when Con moved the shotgun in a small, menacing droop and stiffened, he fished a bandanna from his pocket and cleaned the saddle after a fashion. "Fine!" Con complimented him. Now. let's go back inside. I want a drink. Looking at all the pain that job was to you made me thirsty." Ellis walked stiffly inside. The drinkers gave back to let the two enter. Con checked his prisoner at the near end of the bar and himself him-self stood so that his back had solid mud bricks protecting it. He trained the shotgun muzzles upon the floor but did not uncock the hammers. "Somebody is going to buy a drink," he informed the scowling bartender. "Maybe the old gentleman gentle-man of the bad eyes and ears. No-o. I can see by the soulh side of" him that he won't. So I will, for the house. You take something special. Barkeep. I owe you for the loan of this equalizer." "You won't buy this round!" the hulking red-faced man beyond Ellis grunted. He looked at' Ellis and burst into a roar of amusement. "Young fellow! I like your style. I go by Lee Welsh and I'm strange to Fronteras as you are. These fine, upstanding cowboys with me. they're strangers, too. They go by Ranier, Chick and Odd. They're cousins and you can tell 'em apart by Chick, he shoots his pistol left-handed left-handed and Odd, he shoots his right-handed. right-handed. They're awful good shots, and so am I, but not quite so good as Chick and Odd. Set 'em up. Bar-keep!" study them. "I'm sorry!" he told Ellis sadly. "You never will know how sorry 1 am. But I promised my aunt I never would. She said to me that out in the Wild West and certainly in Fronteras there would be chances to get rich taking advantage of kindly kind-ly people. But she said it wouldn't be honest. So I promised her I wouldn't. But" He looked thoughtfully down at the silver while Ellis stared without expression at him. "Tell you! Just to make some kind of trade, I'll buy that bunch of dollars dol-lars from you. I'll give you eighty cents for every one of 'em and if you want to bring in some more, I'll take any number you want to get rid of." Ellis shook his head gloomily. "And him so young!" he drawled. Too lazy to strip his null off my horse and pack my carbeen in here and me asking him as pretty, like you all heard." He slouched up the barroom and when near the door turned to look at Con and shake his head. Then he went on outside. Con moved backward back-ward two steps so that he could look through the doorway. EUis stood before Pancho, but with side to the door. His right hand was thumb-hooked in his shell belt, tapping tap-ping the butt of his Colt. He stepped across to the sorrel, slapped him so that Pancho moved and was between Ellis and the door. Con kept his face blank while Ellis jerked loose the latigoes and dropped the saddle into the dirt. Then he shook his head and returned to the bar. He leaned quickly and from its nails behind the bar jerked the sawed-ofl shotgun he had seen while |