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Show T1 By FRANK H. SPEARMAN rf4nl . Sp.armaN WNU Wi. A burst of gunfire flashed from the chaparral next the river. Slugs whistled through the air. Felipe was hit but not badly. "Charge 'em!" shouted Bowie, and he spurred at the thicket. They rode down the ambush before the three men within It could reload. Short work was made. Two of the men were stopped and bound. The third, dodging rapidly rap-idly through the brush, was pursued pur-sued by Simmie out of the Jungle, jerked from his feet by a lariat, and finally trussed up with his companions. compan-ions. Their rifles were hunted up in the thicket, found and thrown into the river. Shack after shack of that group was challenged and emptied. emp-tied. Each squatter was allowed to save what he had. The ranch horses they had stolen were claimed by Pedro, but Bowie quickly repaired his tactical error In claiming them. "Where can a man get to on foot in this country, Pedro? We want 'em to travel fast and far. Give 'em the horses." At a point where the river, fed b confluents, broadened, and along the slope running up toward the hills, lay some of the choicest field acres of the Guadalupe rancho. Here Blood, as squatter chief, had fixed his own abode. With the airy assurance as-surance of a squatter he had re- must be rid of their trespassing and their increasing depredations. No fixed plan was arrived at that night The men chosen were only told to look to their arms, their ammunition, their mounts, and to hunt up a few knots for torches. Bowie understood the value of suspense sus-pense to worry defenders of a post and made no move to leave the rancho until the next day had passed. It was after midnight when he called together his men and rode quietly away for the river. Carmen had refused to go to her room until he started. She was unnerved un-nerved by the situation and the danger, dan-ger, and she stood with him at midnight mid-night in the patio until the last moment mo-ment Tears glistened in the moonlight moon-light as she lifted her face to the stars in prayer when he rode away. The raiding party made a wide detour in their approach to the squatter quarter. They forded the river well above it and came slowly slow-ly down through the hills on the farther end of the settlement The moon was high but the chaparral chap-arral along the river near the Me-lena Me-lena afforded some protection as the horsemen wound their way through it. In the silence after the next half-hour half-hour one man, Bowie, emerging emerg-ing from the shadows, stepped to the ramshackle door of the nearest shack. It was built with a patchwork patch-work of boards picked up wherever found and dragged by lariat, behind be-hind a horse, to the camp site; willow wil-low poles chopped from the Melena swamp had been added, together with strips of condemned sails picked up from the water front of Monterey. Bowie knocked with the butt of his pistol on the flimsy door. "Hello! Inside there, boysl Hello!" he called. A second and louder summons brought a tardy and profane response. re-sponse. "Get up," said Bowie sharply. sharp-ly. "I want to talk to you." There was some moving and fumbling fum-bling about inside with more profane pro-fane questions. "We're friends," said Bowie, answering an-swering a question, "provided you behave yourself. Open the door." "Open it yourself," came the truculent truc-ulent challenge from within. Bowie kicked the door open and sprang to one side. At the same moment a pistol shot rang from within the shack. kg XVH Continued 'irjg -18- M e when their fears had "" jjidless, when it became ti,rj:,(D0t a living soul was tW it or hearing, did Bowie ct gti realize that a fountain ? to the plaza was gush-i' gush-i' , , roar into the air and ia , t , river over the po- Ptyerked at the church Dut hfcptcognize it It dawned ettli3t the tower was gone. v&tdii to the house. Their e fought no response. They r.ef,e door of the church; 3i fi barred. With the earth m every few moments un-et, un-et, they shouted togeth-; togeth-; ie names of the two pad-eir pad-eir own names. Slowly sly the church door was Padre Martinez opened : 0 "very soul men, women ,'of those at the mis-on mis-on their knees, sending -i up to heaven for help, eaking into tears, Joined n m ' i, 1APTEB XVIII nea u 1 J.W before Santa Clara Lrered from the shock of !, earthquake. Gradually - s: the neighboring ranchos ;acho Guadalupe, and the died when It was learned W been no human casual- iquake was past; but f J)st troublesome problem t' ned him the squatters. I ed to act at once. I nothing to be gained by I j-much may be lost," t j Don Ramon energetical-I energetical-I quake has demoralized I in't help but do it. Any-r Any-r oing after them in the think best, senor. Take I . -self. To lose you would the whole battle for the , listened to the decision i iiness and anxiety, but I" ed no alternative. She, .egged Bowie to be carets care-ts about among the squalid squal-id iajr before, Simmie had at some half dozen of f itened by the fright of I r, had decided to seek "Do you want to murder the fellow?" fel-low?" "Just want to see how many there is up there shooting," said Parda-loe Parda-loe amiably. And without hesitation hesita-tion he stepped into the doorway himself. No shot greeted him. "Jus's I thought; Jus' two uv 'em tiere. Look here," he said, shaking shak-ing the squatter savagely, "who'i up in the woods?" "Must be Deaf Peterson 'n' the captain," the squatter mumbled. "Jus's I thought Henry Blood and Peterson," commented Parda-loe. Parda-loe. "Get to the horses," exclaimed Bowie. "We'll see how much nghi there is in those fellows. Pedro, look after the woman. Burn the shack and ride after us. That timber tim-ber is thin; not much chance tc hide. Go!" The run, with Pardaloe and the long-bearded Simmie at Bowie's heels, was across an open meadow that exposed the riders to rifle fire. This was held back until the three men were fair moonlight targets. But the beads were drawn on men spurring hard and heading straight at the enemy. The squatter rifles blazed. Blood, especially, was accounted a dead shot but the odds that night were against marksmanship from the wood. Pardaloe's horse stumbled. His knees crumpled, and Pardaloe took a cropper. Man and beast rolled violently along the ground. Simmie took a flesh wound under his right arm. Bowie, riding faster, reached the timber before the squatters squat-ters could reload. Blood and his companion made no stand. Bowie caught sight of the two dashing through the trees on horseback and gave chase to the one closest Simmie, more enraged than seriously hurt took after the other. It chanced that Peterson was Simmie's quarry; Bowie was chasing chas-ing Blood. The squatters rode the fresher horses; they were more familiar with the country. And their pursuers, pur-suers, not able at every moment to keep their eyes on the chase and dodge among the willows and laurels, lau-rels, found their hands full Bowie succeeded in chasing his man out of the timber to a stretch of open country. Both horses, despite de-spite the desperate spurring of their riders, were showing the grueling pace, but both held out till day was breaking. In the stillness of the early dawn, with Bowie straining every effort to keep his man in sight, the chase, mile after mile, went on; only the flying rhythm of the horses' hoofs broke the silence ushering in a peaceful day. And where nature offered every possible beauty to calm the heart of man, two men thundered in deadly enmity across a field of poppies that turned the dull brown of the cropped grass for miles into a glory of golden blooms. The Texan with straining eyes held his man against the distant horizon. No thought of relenting, no thought of mercy, restrained him. The insolence and invasion of a squatter might be forgiven. But the Texan's thoughts were set on the cold-blooaed murder of an unoffending unoffend-ing Indian. That murderer must be held and punished, and his pur- Held his man against the horizon. solved to take all he wanted for himself and had sworn he would defend de-fend himself. Profiting by the absence of resistance re-sistance from Don Ramon during his long illness, Blood had built upon his claim a rough attempt at a stockade. It stood on the brow of rise that overlooked the river for "What are you shooting at?" asked Bowie casually. "Why waste your ammunition? There are twenty twen-ty men out here. If you hit one you'll be shot or hanged in ten minutes. We're going to fire your shack. If you want quarter, come out now, while you've got a chance." A tall, gaunt and dirty specimen of the American outlaw frontiersman frontiers-man of his day slowly emerged from the interior darkness into the clear moonlieht that shone into the ns for their abode. But ; 'the milder mannered of ' rs. The hard cases re- )peak the next morning Pardaloe, Simmie and him. Crossing the riv-:ted riv-:ted his men to ask the g come out for a talk, of them had straggled shacks Bowie, on his iined his mission. led you together for a boys," explained Bowie, the six squatters and sing of twice as many king men. "You are ad here that doesn't be- .. Hold on! Don't all try : once. Wait till I get ; iyou can have your say. atted here on a rancho e from the owner, with-i with-i leave. J killing the rancho cat-s cat-s you please. You claim miles. The spot had been well chosen cho-sen for defense and would prove, Bowie realized, a troublesome obstacle ob-stacle to the cleanup. When they rode up In the moonlight moon-light to Blood's place Bowie gave orders to his scouts and vaqueros. "Take no chances here. This man is tough. He will shoot to kill; don't let him beat you to it. Scatter now. Work around by the Melena. Don't expose yourselves any more than you have to." doorway. He was rigged in a loose ragged shirt and loose ragged trousers. trou-sers. He cursed and growled; swore he knew nothing of any summons, sum-mons, had been in Yerba Buena for three days, and ordered the midnight mid-night trespassers off his premises. Bowie made no effort to appease him. He repeated bluntly, "Get your belongings out of this shack if you don't want 'em burned up." The squatter flew into a rage apparently a planned one, for he suer meant he should be. With a sharp jerk of the bit Blood wheeled suddenly to the right, away from the poppies and toward the Melena. It was a desperate move for refuge, but if the murderer could gain the swamp far enough ahead of his pursuer he could turn on Bowie Bow-ie and pick him off his horse from hiding. It was a ten-mile run to the great swamp. Mile after mile fled under the drumming feet of the straining ponies. Yet Blood, even on the fresher mount, could gain but little on his grim pursuer. Every glance backward from the murderer's saddle sad-dle lessened his hope of a chance to reload for a shot after gaining the swamp, for Bowie, alive to the trick, was bent on defeating it Sooner than seemed possible, the two men, racing on narrowing planes, thundered into the lush grass of the Melena border. Blood, glancing back over his shoulder, yelled a defiance and, halting on the very edge of the morass, whipped out a pistol and threw a shot at his pursuer. It was an impossible shot, made from the saddle on a restive horse at more than fifty yards, yet the slug went home, tearing into Bowie's already al-ready pricked right forearm and shattering it between the elbow and wrist. With an impatient curse the wounded Texan, crouching in his saddle, spurred headlong at his enemy. en-emy. But Blood did not wait for the attack. Bowie knew that the squatter squat-ter must have a second loaded pistol pis-tol or he never would have fired so wild a shot a shot with which he could at best only have hoped to hit the horse. But Blood did not know that Bowie had thrown away his empty pistols and now carried only a knife. The squatter wheeled and plunged into the bog, Bowie racing after him. When Blood, hotly pursued by Bowie, dashed into the swamp a feathered scream rose from a myriad myri-ad of birds in their sanctuary, rudely invaded. Slinking cats scampered madly from under the plunging hoofs of the two horses. The Melena Me-lena woke in panic. (TO I1F COM I WED) He had hardly spoken when the scream of a woman surprised everyone. ev-eryone. A second scream followed; then a succession of moans, growing fainter. Bowie's mind worked fast. He passed his rifle to the nearest va-quero. va-quero. "Spread out and charge 'em, boys. A fight inside is our only chance," he shouted. "Scatter." Spreading into a fan, they dashed forward. A second surprise greeted greet-ed them at the stockade a burst of gunfire. A vaquero was knocked from his saddle; a horse went down. Bowie and his two Texans galloped through the flimsy stockade to find themselves facing five fighting men. They emptied their pistols, sprang from their saddles and rushed the squatters, who, clubbing their rifles laid hotly about them. But they were dealing with men familiar with every trick of frontier fighting, and the knives of the quick-footed Texans Tex-ans turned the tide. One of the squatters went down, out. Two of them ran for the cabin, and the remaining re-maining two threw up their hands. Pricking them significantly, the Texan Tex-an pushed them as unwilling shields toward the shack. A gunshot flashed from the cabin. The squatter hostages hos-tages yelled to the defenders not to shoot and, leaping to the shack door. Pardaloe crashed it in and jumped aside. There was no further fire from within. The vaqueros came up with loaded rifles, torches were lighted, and the men followed their leaders inside. An Indian woman, strapped and gagged, lay on the floor. Pedro cut her bonds. She had been kidnaped from the mission. Two men. she told them, had bound and gagged her when she had tried to escape. Who were they? Where were they? Bowie tried to learn. He flung open the back door. The moonlight streamed in. A rifle shot rang out and tore into the lintel above his head. It was from the woods and. as Pardaloe shoved a screaming squatter into the doorway, a second shot came from the woods. "Hold on, Ben," protested Bowie, pulling the squatter victim away. ended it suddenly by pulling a pistol, pis-tol, hidden under his trouser band where his shirt hung loose, and firing fir-ing it straight into Bowie's face. It was not quite fast enough, Bowie Bow-ie knocked the barrel aside and laid the butt of his own pistol heavily across the squatter's head as the man sprang to clinch him. He slammed the squatter aside just as a second man sprang like a panther through the doorway, knife in hand. It was a knife with a long blade. Bowie, taken somewhat by surprise, confessed next day it looked a yard long. He ducked to one side, but the second squatter, a smaller and quicker man, got the knife point into Bowie's left forearm before the latter lat-ter could escape it. The stab served only to enrage the Texan, and the wiry squatter took a fast beating from the pistol butt while Pardaloe and Simmie threw and bound the tall fellow. "This buck is a wildcat," exclaimed ex-claimed Bowie, turning his smaller captive over to Pedro. "Look for his knife, Pedro. It's here somewhere some-where on the ground. Felipe, fire this shack. No matter about the belongings. be-longings. These fellows don't deserve de-serve any consideration. But first make sure there isn't someone drunk and asleep inside." Felipe, with lighted pitch pine, hurried into and out of the empty cabin. The next minute it was ablaze. The two squatters were dragged away and left bound in the chaparral to work themselves free. "Move fast, boys," counseled Bowie Bow-ie as he galloped with his men down the river. "The whole nest will be awake after that shot." A quarter of a mile brought them to the second cabin. It was sounded, searched, found empty, and burned. "Guess some of the boys skedaddled," skedad-dled," suggested Pardaloe. "How's your arm. Henry?" "All right." "Bleeding?" "Not much." "Got it tied pretty well?" "Good enough for tonight. Come on." "There's another shack." said Pardaloe suddenly. "Look out!" f- yourselves; you claim Jjvner's got more cattle Jkis and you haven't got you don't say a word lj-attle that you've killed f Monterey, do you? Not Jut his beef quarters and you've traded for whisky 71 don't say a word about f rancho storehouse and ' J'selves to flour and grain fHiat has happened twice, f ' that's going to stop. I more about old scores; t trying to burn the mis- before last and your de-f de-f at the Indian women be . ; 1 you. 3 ( notice: You're headed, !1. to get off Guadalupe 3 of! the mission lands in ,' hours or to stand your i-fi rifles and shotguns. For 'morning I'll be here to fvhote mess up and it'll p-al's my say. Now you j'crsnn did talk, and he Sand long. "We stand on Is bony fidey settlers and i the United States of J he shouted finally. "You P us 'n' we don't surren-'lesteads surren-'lesteads for you nor for f sors in Californy. Capt'n :f here tomorrow, boss, fi if you want to. 'N' if :;ng for a fight you can "I here now where you're and." r5ad your warning, boys," ie evenly; and without he and his compan- :per that night there was at the quarters of the "aqueros. Bowie had as-irdaIoe, as-irdaIoe, Simmie, Pedro, force of the hardiest of 'tor a conference. The sttack on the squatter as discussed. The sug-' sug-' daylight assault was 'since it was almost cer-iu't cer-iu't in more casualties be likely in a night raid. Part of Bowie's plan to -luatters. but the rancho |