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Show nwmM Ernest Haycox a, Otf THE STORY SO FAR: Although he Is also a rancher, Clay Morgan decides to play a lone hand against Ben Herendeen, Heren-deen, another rancher, who is trying to run the cattle country his own way. Of his old friends, only Hack Breathitt is still on his side. The othera like Gurd Grant, Lige White and Charley Hill-hoose Hill-hoose are supporting Herendeen, more or less in self defense. Gurd Grant's sister, Catherine, is in love with Clay and is at his ranch when Hack Breathitt rides up followed by Herendeen, Lige White and Gurd. Catherine hides, but Gurd recognizes her horse. Herendeen continues his war on 'nesters" and squatters by warning the Gales to get off the range. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER VI Morgan entered War Pass in first darkness, putting up at Gentry's. There would be supper for him at Ann McGarrah's but for some reason rea-son that wasn't very clear to him, he went to the Long Grade saloon, found Hack Breathitt, and took him to the hotel for a meal. When he got to Ann McGarrah's he found her kneeling before Janet, adjusting the pleats of Janet's dress. Ann McGarrah said: "I'll get you a meal, Clay." "No," he said, "I didn't want to bother. I ate at the hotel." She showed him a quick, faintly hurt surprise, but covered it up at once. "We should be starting for the sohool in a little while." "Am I taking you to the dance?" She said: "You hadn't asked." "So now I'll ask." Morgan and Janet passed through the store and sat on the porch steps, watching the crowd roll along the street. Ann McGarrah presently came out, dressed in a pearl-white gown; it made her eyes darker, it made her black hair shine by contrast. Standing before her, marveling at the change, he reflected that she was different from the women of this town. The gentle flow of the crowd car-tied car-tied them up the hill to the school. At the door Janet left them and Morgan found two seats near the front of a newly made platform. Breathitt stood in the rear of the room, crowded crowd-ed between other townsmen. He caught Breathitt's eye but Hack only shook his head, unsmiling and clearly clear-ly ruffled by something. It went by grades, some singing, tome dancing, some reciting. He was nervous, not realizing it. When Janet came forward to the edge of the stage a fine sweat broke across his forehead and he pushed his legs against the floor, trying to remember remem-ber what the first line of her poem was. Afterwards she made a quick curtsy and her voice came over the room, precise as it always was, and quite sure. When she was through he sat still, not looking around at the other people. Ann said something some-thing to him, turning him. She was smiling with that brightness which comes so close to tears. He murmured mur-mured "Yes," and was thinking of Lila who would have been happy to have seen this. This was about all he heard of the program, for it was soon over. Hack Breathitt went directly into the Long Grade and saw a solid line at the bar. Nearest him were a group of Grant's Crowfoot riders, all of them his friends. Billy Mc-Quire Mc-Quire said, "Step in here, Hack," but Breathitt shook his head and balanced on his heels, his face cool and smooth and tough. Herendeen's men had gathered at the far end of the bar, and these he watched solemnly. sol-emnly. Liard Connor and Bones Mc-Geen Mc-Geen were side-by-side at the bar, ' turned from him, but he knew they 1 had him spotted in the back bar mir- ' ror. He pushed up his hat and t walked on, making a turn behind these two. There wasn't any space between them, but he came against them and shoved them aside. He stared straight ahead, into the mirror. Their faces came around to him, with the reserve he had seen many times before in moments of trouble. He knew what the expression expres-sion meant. The barkeep came down his way, waiting for his choice; Breathitt said gently: "Not now, Sam. When I drink, it'll be in better bet-ter company." It was a sound that traveled around him. The talk in the saloon faded a little and he saw, still watching watch-ing the mirror, men's hats and heads swing. Liard Connor pulled his arm aside. Bones McGeen suddenly grinned over his whisky glass. In Hack's voice was the flat melody mel-ody of a man on edge. "Maybe it was just an accident when you boys bumped into me down by the hotel. Maybe. If there's something in your j craw, you don't have to go to that trouble. I can hear English, if you bullheads can talk it I don't like my feet stepped on. I'll be out on that street all evenin'. Try it again." He withdrew from the bar and stepped to the door with the solid silence of the crowd following him. He batted the doors aside with his shoulders. On the walk, he turned quickly toward his horse, which was near Gentry's. He seized his gun- ! belt from the saddle horn and buckled buck-led it around him and pulled the bottom of his coat over it. One ! hand resting on the horse, he watched the street, knowing that the town was no longer safe for him. j None of the Herendeen bunch showed up at the Long Grade door, though he realized they would be moving bis way soon enough. Sher- Suddenly Jesse Rusey slid from the shadows and was before him. iff Nickum came into the light of the hotel. People kept crossing to the Odd Fellows' Hall and the music and the scrape of feet made quite a racket, and Suddenly Jesse Rusey slid from the shadows and was before be-fore him. He had the soft-footedness of a cat, this marshal, and eyes that could burn through a brick wall. It gave Hack Breathitt a moment's self-affront to think Rusey had come on him thus unawares, but he stood fast, not saying anything. The marshal's mar-shal's hand reached out and hit Hack Breathitt's flank, where the gun was. Afterwards Rusey, no man to ask questions, made a turning circle ofi his heels, looking the whole street through. He said then, "Be careful, Hack," and stepped back into the shadows. Parr Gentry called for a schot-tische. schot-tische. Lige White came over to claim Ann McGarrah, leaving his wife with Clay. They went wheeling and dipping around the floor, Mrs. White very graceful in his arms, and very pretty; but her glance kept following .her husband with that calm indrawn attention Morgan had noticed so often. Herendeen had kept Catherine Grant to himself. After the schot-tische schot-tische Morgan returned Mrs. White to Lige and stood awhile, idly talking. talk-ing. The stag line thickened. Gurd Grant was over there and Gurd's glance was directly on him, and stayed on him without recognition. Parr Gentry said, "Pick your partners for a waltz," and the fiddles fid-dles began tuning-up again. Clay remained in his tracks, head-down, puzzled by Gurd Grant's cut. Something Some-thing was in the wind. He couldn't catch it with his mind, but he knew Herendeen had somehow gotten at Gurd. He debated it coolly, trying to make up his mind, until he heard Ann say, "What is it, Clay?" "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all." Herendeen and Catherine were only a few feet away. Catherine's glance touched him, brief and interested, in-terested, and- then he forgot Gurd and put his hand to Ann McGarrah's McGar-rah's elbow and moved her toward Herendeen. It amused him to see Herendeen's ruddy face show instant in-stant intolerance. He said to Catherine, Cath-erine, "Should be ours, I think," and moved away with her as the waltz began. Catherine said: "I wondered if you would." "One more week one more dance. War Pass, the Burnt Ranch school, the old hall at Chickman Creek. This goes back a long way." "Do you remember so many of those dances, Clay?" "Yes," he said, "I guess I do when I'm dancing with you." These dance nights were like markers leading into the back years. He could visualize most of them; he could remember the fun of most of them. "It is an odd thing," he said, and was puzzled by his own sentiment senti-ment in the matter, "but it seems to be a habit I'm afraid to stop. Like a man that has done one thing so long he can't quit without breaking something that holds him together." She murmured: "This dance, Clay with me?" "Ten years of it," he said. "We were pretty young and all our friends were young, and we had a fine time. As long as we keep on we've still got something left, of those times. Of everything that used to be. It is a way of keeping yesterday yes-terday alive, I guess." "It will die sometime, Clay." "I hate to think of it." They were all around the hall before be-fore she spoke. "It isn't the good times you want to remember, Clay. It is one person you never want to forget. I know. I watched you tonight when Janet spoke. I knew what you were thinking. Not of Janet, Jan-et, not of anything or anybody in the hall. It was Lila. wasn't it?" "Whv, yes," he said, in some surprise. sur-prise. "How would you know that?" Slowly turning with the swing of the waltz, he saw Harry Jump come up the stairs and move through the loitering stags at the edge of the floor. Harry Jump was here when he should have been forty miles out in the Moguls. Morgan wheeled Catherine around, losing Harry Jump, and catching him again. Jump saw him and showed no ex pression of any kind. It was a signal. sig-nal. Morgan said: "Maybe you'd like a drink of water." She had been too long in the country coun-try not to know. She slipped her arm through his elbow and they left the floor, passing Harry Jump without with-out giving him notice. They went down the stairs into the soft dark shadows. Harry Jump's boots scuffed the stairs, following. He passed them, saying from the side of his mouth, "Not here, Clay." They followed him as far as Gentry's Gen-try's and stopped before him. "All right," said Morgan. "You sure?" said Harry Jump, staring at Catherine. "I'll go," she said. "Never mind," answered Morgan. "You know better, Harry." "Well, then. I rode through Government Gov-ernment Valley before dark tonight. There's a notice posted on the building. build-ing. The land office is selling the valley at auction tomorrow afternoon after-noon at four o'clock, in Sage City." He waited for Morgan to speak and when Morgan kept silent, he added: ."That notice should have been posted a month before the sale. Somebody's got at somebody to hold off until it was too late for you. It's nine o'clock now. Eighteen hours until four tomorrow. Hundred and ninety miles to go." Morgan said: "I talked to Fred Rich at the post office a few days ago, and he knew nothing." He drove his hands in his pockets; he had his head up, he was watching the mouth of the Odd Fellows' doorway. door-way. But he wasn't seeing it, Catherine Cath-erine realized. He was a long, still shape in the shadows, quistly considering con-sidering this little treachery. He had a way of absorbing trouble and punishment without showing emotion; emo-tion; he had a way of storing these things in his mind. He said: "All right, Harry." He turned back with Catherine. She said: "Speculators, Clay. Or Ben." She knew how he felt about Government Valley. The music had stopped. Coming up the stairs they saw Herendeen. and Ann standing at the edge of the hall, neither one liking the other enough to keep up conversation. Herendeen never bothered to conceal con-ceal his feelings. He displayed resentment re-sentment now as they came forward. for-ward. He ducked his head at Catherine. Cath-erine. "My dance," he said, and led her away. Out on the floor he looked toward Morgan, a thoughtful-ness thoughtful-ness on his cheeks. Ann said: "Don't make me dance with him again." He said: "I guess I've got tc take you home. I'll have to ride." She got her wrap at once and they went down the stairs. The sense of wasting time pushed Morgan Mor-gan along, making Ann McGarrah walk quite fast. On the store porch he thought to lift his hat. "Tell Janet I'll be back to take her home on Wednesday," he said, and swung away. For Ann McGarrah the evening went flat as she watched him go; he had not thanked her, he had no-, even thought of her these last moments, mo-ments, he had not taken her intc his confidence and mentioned the trouble that now made him disappear disap-pear at the head of the street. Still and dark and hurt, she looked dowr at the smooth front of her dress knowing that she was pretty and knowing she had, for a moment, warmed his heart. And then this had gone. She thought of Catherine, coolly and critically, and turned intc the store. Janet was asleep. Standing Stand-ing over the bed in the dark room, Ann McGarrah watched Janet's small sweetly mature face, seeing there so much of her mother. This was the secure grip Lila held on Clay Morgan this was Lila's power, this was her way of forever reminding remind-ing Clay of the past, and this was her way -of holding him to an unreal, un-real, unjust obligation. Thinking ol all this, Ann McGarrah hated Llie with a secret, passionate fullness. She turned back the extra cover; from the child and left the room. Going up Stage Street, Clay Mor gan reached Harley Stewart's house at the top of the hilL When Stewan came to the door, Morgan said. "Come down to the bank, Harley I've got to have some money inside of fifteen minutes." (TO BE COMIMEDJ |