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Show THE STORY SO FAR: Over Calhoun Terry's protests, the big ranches have imported a large number of Texas ex peace officers to round up and kill suspected sus-pected "rustlers." Several killings preceded pre-ceded this, and Jeff Brand, a rustler CHAPTER XXVI From the Box 55 to Lee Hart's place it was eight miles across the hills. Jeff rode fast. Before he had covered half the way to the hill ranch he heard the sound of firing far to his left. First a single shot, and perhaps a minute min-ute later two more. Though he listened lis-tened for more, no popping reached his ears. To Jeff there seemed something sinister in these breaks disturbing the silence . His imagination pictured pic-tured a man peacefully hoeing a potato po-tato patch or mending a fence. From the direction of the report it might have come from Wade Scott's place. If so. Wade would probably have been whistling, his mind on a girl in Cheyenne who worked in the railroad restaurant, one he was expecting ex-pecting to marry In a few months. and how they chased two men Into his cabin. He himself managed to flee without identifying them. The two men are Calhoun Terry and his foreman. But Jeff did not know this when he decided to aid them. Apparently he was urging them to a charge. Terry shot him in the arm, and he took cover behind the barn. A few seconds later Calhoun's rifle scored another hit A lumbering lumber-ing Texan behind a Cottonwood tried to improve his position by running to another tree closer to the house. He stopped before he reached it, lurched sideways and fell to the ground. With scarcely a moment's delay he began crawling back to his original position. "You got him!" Larry cried. "In the leg. I didn't want to kill him. Maybe his friends will get the idea that they haven't been invited to come any nearer." "Some folks can't take a hint unless un-less a Methodist church falls on them," Larry said lightly. "Wish I had a rifle too. My six-gun won't carry that far with any accuracy. Looks like I'll have to be an innocent inno-cent bystander until they begin to crowd us." Both of them knew there could be only one ending to the battle if it went to a finish. But they were cool, game men, used to danger, and they could take whatever was in store for them without weakening. The attackers grew more wary of exposing themselves. Presently the firing died down except for an occasional occa-sional shot. "Something's up," Calhoun said. "Probably getting ready to rush us." He laughed sardonically. "I never was in this kind of a Jam before. A1J we have to do is let them know who we are and they would let us alone, but as soon as we poke a nose out to tell them they blast away at us." INSTALLMENT THIRTEEN himself, traces them to Jack Turley, a "spy." Nor does JefT like Calhoun, foreman fore-man of one of the big ranches. Ellen Terry seems interested in both of them. Lee Hart, a. rusUer-rancher, reports of -the mobilization of the Texan invaders CHAPTER XXVII Calhoun Terry and Larry Richards, Rich-ards, on their way to Round Top to meet a cattleman who had a registered regis-tered Hereford bull for sale, struck across country to hit Johnson's Prong and take the short cut down Box Canyon. They traveled at a road gait, not pushing their horses, for there was a long journey ahead of them. It was not necessary for them to make talk, since they were knit in close friendship tested by a hundred experiences ex-periences shared together. When they talked it was mostly about a new enterprise in which they were to be partners. They had made an arrangement with John Q. Powers to buy the old Terry Ranch once owned by Calhoun's father, and with it a fine stretch of river land adjoining. Larry had lately inherited inherit-ed some money. This was to make part of the initial payntent. The rest of it was to come out of Terry's Interest in the Diamond Reverse B. "You're getting the most unpopular unpopu-lar man on Buck River for a partner," part-ner," Calhoun said. "The little fellows fel-lows and the big outfits have just one thing in common. They both agree that I'm a deserter and a traitor." "Inside of a year all that will be forgotten," Larry predicted. "The big ranches will be following your example. The bad feeling will pass away soon as the friction is removed, re-moved, and the settlers will give you credit for taking the first step to straighten things out." They came to the lip of a small mountain park and dipped down into it. Terry pulled up his cow- Later Jeff heard more shots, but these were from the Hart place. Since this meant that the defenders were still holding off the attack, he was glad to hear them. He rode fast til he reached the top of the ravine which ran down to the Hart clearing just back of the house. Instead of taking the gulch he followed the rim, keeping to cover as he came close to the edge. Looking Look-ing down, his gaze swept the clearing clear-ing and picked up details. He saw two men crouched back of the barn. Evidently there were others in it, for as he stood there a puff of smoke came from the window opening In the hayloft. At least one man was stationed in the bed of the creek a hundred and fifty yards from the house. A shot from that point told him so. There was a small alfalfa field to the left of the house. It ran to the draw leading up to the ravine. He could see the ditch crossing it in the direction of the house. Rank grass covered the edges. A wild idea jumped to his mind. Why not get into that ditch, crawl along it till he was close to the cabin, and make a dash to join the defenders? It was the sort of plan to catch Jeff's fancy. He felt the pulse of excitement beating in his throat which for him always accompanied danger. By heaven, he would try it. Near the top of the ravine he picketed pick-eted his horse, then moved down it cautiously. As he came round a bend in the gulch, he looked down into the little basin which held the ranch. Thirty yards below him a man crouched behind a large boulder, a rifle in his hands. He was watching the log cabin, evidently hoping to get a glimpse of one of the defenders. defend-ers. Lower down in the draw and fifty yards to his right another marksman was also waiting behind cover for a shot Larry was watching the attack-, attack-, ers through his peephole. "They are I getting their horses." His voice grew excited. "By the jumping horned frog, they're riding away. They figure it would cost too much 1 to dig us out of our hole. Seems too good luck to be true." It was too good to be true. More than forty men took a trail Into 1 the hills, but enough were left to keep up the attack on the cabin. Terry tried again, during the lull in the firing, to let Ellison know who they were, but he was fired upon the instant he opened the door. At the end of an hour another plan was tried to dislodge the besieged be-sieged men. Two horses were taken into the barn. A few minutes later they came out drawing a wagon with a hayrack on it. The wagon was driven Into a meadow of wild hay. Near the center cen-ter of the field was the remains of a stack of hay, most of it weeds tossed aside as unfit food for stock. Men began to gather this trash with pitchforks and load it on the rack. At first Calhoun was puzzled, but the purpose of this Jumped to his mind. "Ellison is going to burn us out," he said. Larry caught the idea. "Sure. They aim to get behind the hay and push the wagon by the tongue up against the house. Then they will set fire to the hay." After a moment Larry spoke. "You've been favoring these fellows, Cal, and that was right so far. But no longer. They mean to kill us, even if they have to burn us up. It's them or us. I won't let them rub me out without fighting back." Calhoun nodded agreement. "Nor I. But maybe the time hasn't quite come for that, Larry. The thing is to delay them all we can. Help is on the way to us by now. I expect Hart could not have recognized us. He thinks we are some of his outlaw friends. When he reaches Black Butte he will start gathering men to Jeff tiptoed forward, revolver in hand. pony and pointed to the opposite slope. A large body of men on horseback was moving down it. "The Texas invaders," Larry said instantly. "Yes, and we'd better get away from here," his companion decided. "When they see us they will hold us prisoners, to make sure we don't spread the news. That wouldn't suit us. We don't want to be identified with them." Too late, they wheeled their horses. The sound of a rifle shot roared across the park. Larry's horse went down and flung him. His friend raised the palm of his hand to give the peace sign, but the answer an-swer was a splatter of bullets. "Come a-running, Larry," called Terry. Richards vaulted to the back of the horse, and they were on their way. From the ridge they headed down into a country of huddled hills and ravines where outlaws had their abode. The roan gelding did its best, but when Larry looked back he knew the race would be a short one. "They're coming hell-for-leather," he said. "We won't reach the hills." He held up his hand in the peace sign, but it did not stop the crashing of the guns. "We'll have to hole up at Lee Hart's till we get a chance to explain ex-plain we're not the men they want," Terry said. , "Yep. There's Lee down there with his stock. He isn't waiting to ask questions either." save us. That will take some time, but not very much if we are lucky." Terry was watching the wagon and the men with it. They had loaded the refuse hay and were picking up brush to pile on the top of it. The driver swung the team round to return to the gate. He was nearer the house than at any time since leaving the barn. Calhoun took careful aim and fired. One of the horses sank to the ground. . . "That will hold them for a while," he said. A voice outside, not far away, hailed the house. It came from the side Larry was defending. Richards searched the alfalfa field and saw nobody. j Jeff tiptoed forward, revolver in hand. He had not been a big-game hunter for nothing. No perceptible rumor of his movements reached - the lank Texan toward whom be 1 was soft-footing. Unwittingly the sniper helped at his own undoing. . Intensely preoccupied with the job in hand, his mind was following a single track which led straight from him to the quarry in the cabin. When Brand was about ten strides from him he drew a bead and fired. As the rifle cracked Jeff flung aside caution cau-tion and took the last stretch on the run. The Texan whirled, too late. The long barrel of the .45 smashed down on his lifted forehead. His body swayed, and collapsed. Nobody had noticed what had taken tak-en place. Jeff helped himself to the man's rifle and cartridge belt. He moved to the left and stepped down into the dry ditch he had seen from the bluff above. Crouching low in it, he crept forward. The alfalfa . hid him pretty well. If he were seen by the attackers he would probably prob-ably not be molested, since he would be taken for an ally of theirs trying to get close to the enemy. . Crossing the field was a slow business. busi-ness. He went on all fours, dragging drag-ging the rifle beside him. He was near enough the cabin to see lead fling splinters from the logs. He called softly, "Hello the house," and when no answer came back to him he called again, more loudly. It was after his fourth attempt at-tempt that somebody inside answered. an-swered. "Who is it? What you want?" "Jeff Brand. I'm gonna make a run for the door. Fling it open for me when I give the word." There was a perceptible silence before the man in the house replied. "How come you there if you're Brand?" "Don't talk, you fooL Do as I say." Jeff came out of the ditch running. From the edge of the valley he heard a shout. Somebody had discovered dis-covered the Texan he had knocked out and was spreading the news. The guns roared. He bowled over, all the power knocked out of him in an instant. That he had been hit he knew, though he felt no pain. Still clinging to the rifle, he tried to clamber to his feet. The ground tilted up at him, and he went down again. Still conscious, he crawled forward a foot or two. A splatter of sand kicked up in front of him. Another bullet parted his curly hair. The cabin door was flung open. Two men showed at the entrance. One ran toward Jeff, in long, reaching reach-ing strides. The other covered the rescue, firing at the figures which had come into the open to get Brand. It was a matter of seconds, but they stretched interminably. The man reached Jeff, gathered him up, and plunged back toward the house. As he crossed the threshold the man with the rifle slammed the door shut oomeone nas worked up right close to us," he told his compan- ion. "Sounds like he's only forty or fifty yards awav." "Ask him who he is," Terry said. "We can send a message by him and tell Ellison who we are." Larry shouted the question. The answer astonished him. He passed it on to his friend. "Claims he's Jeff Brand and is going to make a run for the door. He must have crawled up the ditch." Larry demanded more information infor-mation from the man outside. A moment later he cried in excitement: excite-ment: "Hell, it's Jeff, all right! He's coming on the run . . . They've hit him. He's down." ' Terry ran to the door and flung it open. He thrust the rifle into the hands of Richards and raced toward the man on the ground, who was crawling toward the house. Stooping, Calhoun picked up Brand, the rifle still in his hand, and hurried back to the house. He reached it in safety and Larry bolted the door. Terry put the wounded man down on the bed. "Where did they hit you?" he asked. Jeff Brand did not answer. He stared at his rescuer in vast astonishment. as-tonishment. "They got him in the ankle," Larry Lar-ry said, pointing to a hole in Brand'i boot (TO BE CONTINUED' "Don't blame him. He's on their list." They reached the clearing, flung themselves from the horse, and raced for the cabin by the creek. Once inside, they slammed and bolted bolt-ed the door. From the window Larry Lar-ry saw the leader of the regulators disposing of his men. They could hear bullets thudding into the logs. One shattered the other window. "We'd better move back out of sight," Larry suggested. "Have to dig holes between the logs to shoot through." "I'll try a white flag," Calhoun said. "If they'll hold back long enough to listen to us we'll be all right." He found an empty flour sack, opened the door a few inches, and waved the white sack. He called out his name to Ellison. The noise of the guns killed the sound of his voice. Lead tore into the door. "Quit that foolishness, Cal," his friend snapped. "You'll get shot up, first thing. The darned fools are crazy with the heat." A foreman of the Circle C C ranch, a big, blustering fellow who rode his men hard, was gesticulating violently violent-ly and pointing toward the cabin. |