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Show Pf By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM S Z 1L. EUGENE CUNNINGHAM 00 W.N U. R.CLEASE TBB STOBT SO FAR: After Duinmlnf hit T Irom Chicago, Coo Cameron joint tb to Bar rlderi and oei with tnem to Wild Hore. Then be and another an-other 20 Bar rider, Caramba Vear, encounter en-counter Aia Brock, a cattle buyer who, wttb the marshal. Dynamite Uownei, runs tna town. Brock It trylni to persuade per-suade Nevll Lowe, a catUt man new to the town, to aeU to olm. Lowe refuses, and later that night Coo saves hit life la fuo fight wltb Brock, Dynamite and a deputy marshal called "El Mu-cbacbo." Mu-cbacbo." After that Wild Horse Is no longer sate for him, so he hits the trail again. At Pronterai, a town notorious for ita toughness. Con attracts the attention at-tention of a rancher named Lee Welsh by getting the best of Quirk Ellis, a Fronteras man. Welsh It an outsider, too, and Immediately invltet Con to Join him and hit companions, the Ranters. But when Con learns they are near Tlvan, where Nevll Lowe's ranch It located, lo-cated, be decides to head for Tlvan. Now be and Welsh and the Ranlers are riding rid-ing toward Tlvan. Now continue wltb the story. CHAPTER IV The Raniers and Welsh kept together to-gether that morning. Con was con tent to let them argue. The discussion discus-sion of his three companions became be-came a downright quarrel. Con watched them curiously and decided that, as soon as they reached Tivan, he would ride alone. At noon. In a little crossroads tienda kept by a squat Mexican, they ate and drank the storekeeper's hot whisky. Neither Nei-ther of the Raniers went beyond a second cupful. Con stopped willingly willing-ly after his first. But Lee Welsh continued to drink while Con and a young vaquero who spoke English after a fashion explored the Spanish tongue. "Go among our people and forget your English for a month," he complimented com-plimented Con, "and you will have more of the Spanish than many of our gente use easily. You ride to Tlvan? But your companeros seem of two minds about that, as about other oth-er things." "All right, then!" Lee Welsh said angrily. "Don't go. Me and the kid'll make a pair." The vaquero looked suddenly at Con and his manner changed; stiffened stiff-ened a little. "What's a buscadero?" Con asked is a low voice. . "The word is Spanish, after a fash-Ion. fash-Ion. But the thing why, that may be Spanish or Anglo. In the Territory Terri-tory and Mexico and some other places it means one who Is hunted. And one Is not hunted except for reason . . . Now, I ridel" He whirled and went out fast. Nobody No-body spoke for a while. Then Welsh turned to Con. "Left go!" he said. They went out to where the horses dozed. For a time, during the afternoon, Welsh amused himself by singing. But toward sundown his mood changed to grimness, and when they sprawled around their fire in the darkness he faced the cousins, but talked at Odd. "We'll split in the morning," he laid harshly. "You can head for hell, if you want to that'll be the devil's- hard luck. But me and Con can make a team" "Count me out," Con stopped him. "If I had known that you-all are buscaderos. I wouldn't have sided you. No hard feelings! I'm Just saying that it's not common sense for a plain cowboy to hang around long riders. So we will split tomorrow tomor-row morning. I'll ride by myself." "Ne" mind that, for right now." Lee Welsh thrust in. "What I want out of you two is enough to make up my even split and my third of Comanche's cut. Him leaving no heirs, like the lawyers say, I reckon us three fit the hole. And it was me that put him on his horse after that posse shot him. and held him on it, too, till he cashed his chips. Maybe that makes me entitled to all his cut. But I ain't hoggish. I'll take a third." "You'll take Just what you got." Chick Ranier snarled. Con, a little to the side of them, had moved his hand with snail-slow-1 ness on his lap until it curled around the butt of his Colt. Chick and Odd were eyeing Welsh with hawklike steadiness. Then Odd's hand seemed to explode ex-plode in flame twice. With the heavy roar of the palmed derringer, Welsh sagged, rather than fell, forward for-ward and sideways. As if Jerked by a spring, automatically auto-matically Con had snapped out his pistol and steadied it upon his knee, leveled toward the two. Chick was about to draw a Colt when Con's thin, harsh snarl checked him. "Both of you! Reach up and take your ears. This is a little strange to me. I'm likely to shoot ragged; kill you instead of crippling you. Hup! Hup! This Is cocked." They regarded him uncertainly. But when he moved the pistol slightly, slight-ly, they raised their hands smoothly. "You think for a minute you're cutting stick, knowing all you found out about us?" Chick snarled. Con came quickly, smoothly, to his feet "Stand up! But keep that dally on your ears." Their faces were like devils' masks In the firelight. He was strangely calm. now. But he did not make the mistake of carelessness. careless-ness. "Odd! Put down one hand and unbuckje your belt. Let it drop. Chick) You Just imitate a statue. Two days later he was on the down-slope of the Bravo valley. Pronto! It would be a good Job for the country if I got jarred into killing kill-ing both of you! Better think of that." Stiffly, Odd unbuckled his belt with one hand. It thudded with his pistol into the dirt. Then Chick was disarmed. dis-armed. Con went over them both carefully, took a second derringer from Odd and stood back. "Now." he said drawlingly, "we can get along without having to kill you. Chick, bring Pancho in a little closer and saddle him for me like a nice fellow." Con, with the heap of weapons at his feet, watched both Chick and his cousin. "Not so tight with that back cinch!" Con ordered Chick. "He won't buck, but he's not fond of it Now!" He got into the saddle without losing los-ing the drop and sat tor an instant looking at the pair. He touched Pancho with the rowel and rocketed into the darkness out of sight, kneed the sorrel to the side and kept at the pounding gallop for a quarter-mile. Then he slowed to a trot and went on for what he guessed to be three miles or more across arroyo-gashed country, before be-fore camping. He slept lightly, nervously, that night. He was out of his blanket before daylight, stiff and uncomfortable uncomfort-able of mind. But after the sun rose he felt better. Two days later he was on the down-slope of the Bravo Valley. At midday Con ate at a farm, trying his Spanish upon an ancient woman and a girl of fifteen or so, learning more words, gathering gather-ing news. The girl managed with her small stock of English and Con's increasing increas-ing Spanish to tell him the surprising sur-prising news of Milam Fant's arrest by vigilantes, for murder and cattle thefts. He asked who had been appointed ap-pointed sheriff to succeed Milam Fant "A very good man!" the girl told him. "Nevil Lowe, of the NL, a ranchcro who raises horses north of Tivan." When he left the pretty and friendly friend-ly Mexican girl a dollar richer for his meal, he looked for a good pool in the little creek that flowed Tivan-ward. Tivan-ward. When he found the place to suit him. he splashed clean, shaved, changed into the "town clothes" he had worn so briefly in Wild Horse and beat the dust of miles from his black hat. Pistol and belt went into an alforja a saddle pocket Then he rode on. He swung off Pancho before a saloon sa-loon in midstreet. He went into a crowded room and to the bar. Most of the drinkers stared calculatingly at him, but the bartender served him without saying anything. While he fingered his glass, a pale, slender young man with nervous hands and restless dark eyes stood talking in a hurried undertone to a grizzled, cowboyish figure. They stood two yards down the bar from Con, with a vacant space between. "Like 1 been telling you. Hearn, . it's nothing to me; no affair of mine. Matter of actual fact it's no busi-ness busi-ness of Nevil's, neither, I don't see why you're talking to me. Why'n't you save that wind for Ro-bards? Ro-bards? It's his grief." "Because 1 want the whole bunch of you to agree not run to Robards making him go counter to his own opinion! You and Lowe and Smith can persuade him" The other shrugged heavy shoulders shoul-ders and straightened. He turned and Con saw the badge on his but-tonless but-tonless vest. He was a deputy sheriff, sher-iff, his badge showed, and he came toward Con without taking his eyes from him. while Con swallowed bis drink and put the glass back upon the bar. Then someone at the door called "Bain!" and the deputy looked that way, frowned slightly, and went past. Con trailed him out. So did the pale man. A few steps from the door Bain stood with a small, elderly man In dark citizen's suit and derby hat. Ahead of Con, the pale young man went to Join the pair. They faced him. "Hearn." tne derbied man said slowly, "I don't want to accuse you of anything, without being certain, but the way you're going about this business of Fant's leaves you open. You ought to see that it can be taken as an attempt at bribery!" "Nothing of the sort!" the pale Hearn cried. "I'm simply trying to make bond for Fant and Slade. Ten thousand. There's no reason why men of Fant's position should stay chained like wild animals at the whim of local authorities, at the mercy of riffraff! "You calling me riffraff?" the deputy sheriff demanded. "Of course not, Bain!" Hearn cried instantly. "1 mean this so-called so-called Vigilance Committee. Not one of them has the nerve to meet Fant face-to-face. But under cover of darkness, enough of them might get together to" There was more argument before the three went upstreet together. Down the line of Tivan's buildings, presently Con met a florid, fattish young man in all the glories of derby der-by hat pomaded hair, cheap perfume, per-fume, a reddish-brown suit with wide yellow stripes. The young man seemed to like the attention Con gave him. He paused, straightened a lapel, took the cigar from his mouth and nodded. "Stranger in town?" he Inquired. "I can usually spot a newcomer. Know everybody around. Never forget for-get a face. My business makes it important to remember faces and Judge 'em. I'm cashier of the bank. Yonder." Out of a store behind the cashier two girls came bearing packages. One was yellow-haired, pretty. The other was Janet Lowe. The cashier turned with sound of their voices. He called both by name. The yellow-haired girl, it seemed, was "Marian." They called him Cicero and looked curiously at Con, then returned to their talking. Con turned his head slightly, to look past the girls at the red-faced Bain, who was coming toward them. Bain passed Janet and Marian with vaguest grunt and came on to stop before Con. Cicero began to talk, but the deputy stopped him with impatient im-patient Jerk of the chin, without looking look-ing at him. Con grinned faintly. "So you're packing a hideout in town, huh?" Bain grunted. "Hideout?" Con returned, shaking shak-ing his head. "Uh-uh! Not even a water pistol, Mr. Bain. My hardware's hard-ware's on my horse, yonder." "Yeh, I know about that one In the alforja," Bain said calmly. Come along. Salado wants the bunch of you for that slinking bunch of killings there and the robbery." "Listen!" Con began anxiously. "I want to talk to Sheriff Lowe. I've been looking for him. I met the bunch at Fronteras. They were strangers to me" Left-handed, for his right hand was hooked in the belt conveniently near his Colt Bain caught Con's right arm and Jerked. Con twisted tree and stepped backward. "Keep your hands off! You don't have to drag me anywhere. I told you, I want to see Lowe. I can tell him some interesting things. And when I finish talking, I think he'U tell you that I'm no buscadero" Bain shot out his big left hand again and clamped it upon Con's arm. When Con jerked angrily, the deputy ignored the pistol at his side and whipped up his gunhand to slap Con savagely across the face. "Shut up!" he snarled. "I hate a mouthy kid and one that hangs out with a bunch of killers like that" Con forgot his good intentions, under un-der that smashing open-hand blow; even forgot the pistol that Bain wore. He struck three times so fast that Bain could not guard against the blows with the edge of hard hand upon Bain's left and right arms, then with smashing fist to the deputy's belly. The slow, unskilled un-skilled deputy, for all his forty-odd pounds' advantage in weight, had no chance against the cat-quick attack. His knees buckled. He crashed forward for-ward under alternating hooks that thudded against his big chin; lay still. Something was like a shadow above Con's head. He slid sideways side-ways and felt the very wind of Nevil Lowe's blow with pistol barrel. Without With-out thought, he pivoted bark and smashed a terrific swing into the taller tall-er man's face. Lowe dropped as if poll-axed. Con stared almost dazedly, daz-edly, then, before he could straighten, straight-en, something seemed to explode in his skull. He heard a dull roar, saw streaks of flame, then blackness took him. (TO BE COSTIW ED) |