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Show THE TIMES.NEWS. NEPHI. UTAH Thursday, March 16, 1944 c OiTO K.V MMW" .y HAROLD CHANNING LEW BURNET If trail boss of the Crosi T herd which is being driven from Texas to the Indian agent at Ogallala. The year is 1875. TOM ARNOLD, owner, li killed In a stampede. His will names Lew boss and owner until the cattle are sold, when STEVE and JOY ARNOLD will receive their shares. After overcoming difficulties and hardships, they enter Indian territory. Lew refuses a demand by a party of Cheyennes for 600 cattle. CLAY MANNING, foreman and fiance of Joy, wants to abandon the herd, but Lew insists on fighting. He sends a man back to Doan's store to bring out the soldiers. The next afternoon the Cheyennes appear. Lew and his men prepare to shoot it out. t CHAPTER XIV Lew nodded, turned and swept a circling gaze around the flat land. But this one party was all. And then a grunt from the old man jerked his eyes around. He half rose in his stirrups, held there suddenly rigid by the horrible beauty of that charge. It came like a tossing wave with every horse thrown forward in the same instant. The Cheyennes rode flat, their black heads hardly above their animals' manes. A drumming on the earth ran ahead of them, nothing more. They didn't yell, and it was that unexpected deadly silence that made his blood run cold. Even with Quarternight's calm voice warning him, "Take it easy," he dropped in his saddle and swung up the long barrel of his gun. He knew what Quarternight was counting on. This was the moment of the Indians' greatest advantage. Why they must strike with this fierce strength, then always stop and boast before they fought, he didn't know. But this one time maybe they wouldn't. The wave was sweeping on within three hundred yards. He lined his rifle sights, and then his eyes caught no signal. Every man was suddenly upright, with the horses thrown back on their hindquarters, rearing and plunging to a halt. Their arms flew up. Rifles that had been' hidden beneath the naked bodies glinted in the sun. They sat in an unbroken line, motionless, until one rider started out at a walk from the others. Off two hundred yards - he - stopped and crooked his arm and shouted something. He had only a strip of blanket cloth around his waist and between his legs. Lew yelled across to him, "No savvy!" The Cheyenne yelled back something that sounded bad. He wasn't Crazy Bear. Quarternight raised his rifle. "Boy," he said, "first lick's half the battle. Might as well show him what we've got." He squeezed the trigger once. The horse wheeled and stumbled, bolting back into the line. The old man's whiskers parted in a wicked grin. "There now. Watch out, they'll make a run!" They were yelling now, high and gobbling like a flock of turkeys. horses pivoted Suddenly their and they were lying flat again, racing in a circle around his herd. He slapped his buckskin with his heels, riding with both bands free. The men strung out from him needed no order; there were old Indian fighters in this crew. Swinging off from the cattle, they rode their own smaller circle abreast of the Cheyennes' running line. But he had to yell at young Jim Hope to make him stay with the horse herd. He saw Clay start from Joy's wagon, turn and go back. Little black puffs of smoke began to rise and drift above the Indians, wild shooting, at too long a guns. range for their He kept an eye on Quarternight just ahead. They were half around the herd when the old man threw up his arm. "Hold in, boys! Here they come!" He let out his rebel yell. Lew swung his buckskin with his knee and halted, facing out Some out of Quarternight's instinct Apache days had let him time the moment of a charge. For the Cheyennes had pivoted again. They came on in a solid running front was The blast of Springfleld-Allin- s like the" rattle of beans in a gourd. Beyond his own sights he saw a gap break wide open. Jt was a withering fire. Horses went down. He saw the way the Cheyennes plunged with them, unable to kick free of the rawhide loops that held their legs. He felt cool and a little sick. The charge broke and scattered. He called, "That's enough," and admired the stolid courage that brought some of the red men back to pick up the wounded. Then oft at a distance out of range the ragged line continued its circle. But that blast had taught them something. At three quarters around the herd they pulled in and bunched up close together. He could see their arms making signs and hear the gobble-talk- . He fed a handful of shells into the side of his rifle and said to "That'll make 'em Quarternight, powwow some. All we need is time." It was past noon. Any moment ought to bring Joe Wheat and the cavalry op. over the edge of the plain. With his gun filled he took a long look ufT southeast beyond the bunched Cheyennes and thought once there was couldn't be sure. something v i CIFZCL-- Er and fabric, it's an mer choice for a small girl! all-spri- His first minutes' run down the channel's looping course was blind and unreasoning, thinking only l.e'd catch them around the next bend. One of their mounts had the extra burden of carrying Joy. It would slow their pace. He quirted his tiring buckskin for better than a mile and the swath of trampled grass ran on vacantly ahead. He gave in then to his knowledge of their swifter ponies. His own had already given its best. To crosscut between one bend and another he swung up the channel bank. He looked south and suddenly pulled his horse in and rode in short, fast circles. At the same and time he drew his forty-fou- r shot it into the air. The far-of- f spot of blue was plain now Joe Wheat bringing the cavalry troop. Yet at more than two miles they " ? i T ' couldn't hear his gun and gave no sign of recognizing his riding signal. They kept on toward the stalled herd. Back there, equally two miles away, he could see the little darting figures of men spreading out to catch the horses. While almost out of sight beyond them the split-of- f bunch of cattle were vanishing to yrs. the west. Bolero Charm The channel wandered back and forth, the banks gently sloping, its DRETTY as a picture, this little- bottom smooth and green. The short girl jumper and bolero set is cuts let him gain a lot. They'd copied from grown-up'- s wear! keep under cover themselves, fol- Comfortable and dressy in a nice lowing down the crooked way. He watched backward, hoping any moment that some of the outfit would show up. But they might be riding directly along the Indians' trail. Each time he plunged into the winding course there was only the empty trampled grass. Those devils long-horn- fP f r All 1943 3-- 8 I could move! - u sSEtYING WIKE. but His run brought the black Wichi-ta- s looming up into the fog that had held low overhead all day. Light around him began to fade. The channel straightened. He saw water of North Fork Creek beyond the narrow mouth. He loped on for half a mile and the hunch that had pulled him this far became like a magnet losing its force. The wash lay empty on ahead. A sense of every moment taking her farther from him with those brown devils made his skin crawl. No use going on this way any more. He pulled to a stop and sat listening. Any sound from' the canyon mouths would carry far in the still air. Not even a blue jay's warning chatter broke the Wichita's dead hush. His heart went cold. He was turning to head back down the stream when there came a coyote's quavering bark. It held him rigid. Too early in the evening for those animals to be on the prowl. He pulled his rifle from its scabbard and saw his ears buckskin's little black-tippe- d swing and point. There was danger here. But he could locate nothing up where they directed. Slowly he moved the horse again. "Hold on. son!" Old Willy Nickle stepped from the willow fringe. "Willy!" he said and rode toward him. "You old coon!" "Been seein' you," said Willy. That was all just then. He turned his gentle changeless face and stared off blankly. But he might be learning things; you never could tell. Lew waited, keeping down hit sudden impatience. "Well," he said in a moment and brought his eyes around. "There's Indians knocking about here, so there is. Cheyennes. They give you a fight? Seems like I was watching from the hills, but was too much fog." VWe held them off," he said. And then it burst from him: "They got the girl!" Unconcerned, old Willy said, "So they did." "You saw them?" He moved his horse. "Which way?" Willy stood there calmly looking up. "Now you hold on. Don't you never go trailing Indians up too close. It was Crazy Bear had her on his pony. Him and six of his bucks. They're in the hills by now and they'll be watching back. No, you give an Indian time to think he's safe." ' "Time!" he said. "With the girl?" "They'll wait for that." said Willy. 'Take a white man now and he'd risk his hide to stop. But Crazy Bear, he'll want to parade her in camp first and maybe get same buck to fight him for her. Seems like an Indian has always got to mix it up with fighting. Well,. this nigger don't know why." He looked north up the creek, nodding. "You ride on now, easy." He stepped back and was gone. This was no time to doubt old Willy Nickle. Yet it wasn't the way he'd get on the bunt himself. He'd find the trail and ride it But he knew that Willy was half Indian in most things by now, wise to all their tricks and able to understand the language of any plains tribe. In a little while a canyon stream came down to join North Fork. He was standing on its bank. "They turned up here," he said and pointed. "See, they're leaving sign." "Means they don't think they're followed. That's a heap careless for Must be likher in 'em Cheyennes. yet . . . Weil, it s plain wher they're headed." ASU ME I'&ttf&THEli ? W.N.U. RELEASE The Cheyennes abruptly stopped their gabble. It left a strange dead hush. He saw their horses move a little. All their painted faces turned. Clay Manning's yell was like a shot. He jerked around and saw Clay near the wagons and heard him s shout again. North beyond the a Ion',' mounted Indian had risen from the ground. A blanket whirled above his head. He was Then the alone for an instant. earth seemed to open behind him, pouring up horses and brown men. Things have way of happening, swift in the action yet tormentingly slow to the quick flashing of a man's mind. Lew felt himself move. But it was like those dreams in which he struggled against an unseen force that held him back. He saw forty or fifty Cheyennes pour up and strike toward the herd at its farther rim. Quarternight yelled, "Let 'em go! Watch here!" From the south a bunched run was coming on again. He pivoted back and steadied his horse and emptied the magazine of his rifle. Once more those ranks broke. Off across the herd the Indians had struck in a flying wedge. Their terrific impact sent a wave of motion through the massed pool. It rolled backward as the long- - 7 PAGE SEVEN sum- 9 answers offering f S informa,ior,onvarioussubiec,s , A quiz with Barbara Bell Pattern No. 1943 is in sizes The Questions years. Size 4 requires material. 1. How far is the Panama canal Due to an unusually large demand and from the equator? current war conditions, slightly more time 2. By what name is Vissarcono-vic- h is required in filling orders for a few of Dzugashvili now known? the most popular pattern numbers. 3. In the First World war it was Send your order to: What is it now "zero hour." called? SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. 149 New Montgomery Street 4. A standard parachute San Francisco Calif. an area of how many square has Enclose 20 cents in coins for each yards? pattern desired. 5. The power of a number is Pattern No. Size The Answers 3. 4, 5. 6, 7 and 8 2' a yards of 35 or It is 600 miles. Stalin. "H" hour. Seventy. The product that results from multiplying a number by itself. 6. Scotland. 7. To the wakes made by submarine periscopes. 8. Rumania. 9. Thailand. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. what? 6. Where was the first real bicycle made? 7. When the pilot of a torpedo of "feathers," to what plane Viscountess Meets Elman, does hespeaks refer? 8. Peter II, young king of JugoThen Confusion Reigns slavia, is the son of former Princess Mary of what country? world-famoWhile in Europe, the 9. What is the present name of violinist, Mischa Elman, Siam? was introduced one evening to an 10. 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The waves of fighting longhorns had struck their terror into the horse herd. He saw Jim Hope and Moonlight Bailey fail d to hold them. Jackson's e team plunged and reared against his tightened reins. But it was Joy's team that he aimed, for in this flash of time. There was that instant when Clay Manning1 could have saved her, as the mules bolted, tearing the reins from her grip. He " could have grabbed their bridles or caught the girl from the seat Instead he tried to turn the horses, saw hip mistake too late. Their running flood hit him and carried him on. With Clay gone there was no one near the girl. Her mules were kicking as they ran His own buckskin was snapping like dog at the horses and cattle that blocked his way. He clubbed the bony skulls of longhorns with his rifle. A lane parted. He was half across before it closed again. Their horns were lances stabbing at his legs. He kicked at them and tramped them down and in that struggle could no longer watch the wagon. He was almost through when he saw it and the half a dozen Cheyennes who had raced back on that side of the herd to cut it off. They swept around It, running. The next moment they vanished completely from the earth. A last stubborn chain of s blocked him. As he broke free he heard Quarternight's rebel He looked back. The two yell. war parties had joined, scattering west behind a bunch of split-of- f cattle. To the south was a moving spot of blue. The wagon's white top was ahead of him fVn, down In a hidden channel of some ancient stream bed that twisted away to the east. The mules had halted, tangled in their harness. The scat was empty. A trampled swath of footprints led back toward the Wichita range. Owl-Hea- four-mul- long-horn- I , , (TO BE CONTINUED! ooo earn owmtmrn m imnm Q0OG3O ffOQSS QOC? a product wins and holds WHEN out you know its leadership customer-preferenc- year in and e is established on merit. 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