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Show ' jHT JACKSON GREGORY M .GREGORY W.N.U. RELEASE iM& THE STORY SO FAR: Old Bill Cole, having been fatally shot by an unknown assailant, made two Identical wills, leaving leav-ing his money and the King Cole Ranch to Ann Lee and Cole Cody, children of till two old cronies, Busty Lee and Buck Cody. Ranee Waldron, who claimed relationship, re-lationship, put In an appearance at the Bancb just before Old Bill's death. Meanwhile, Mean-while, both Ann Lee (accompanied by her Aunt Jenifer) and Cole Cody were on their way to the Ranch by stage coach. During the Journey the stage was held up by bandits. Long Peters, the driver, and a passenger, Andy Jenkins, were shot, but Jenkins saved the money be was carrying In a carpet bag. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER V And so, at least in so far a William Cole Cody and Miss Ann Lee were concerned, all was well and the night was filled with beauty. There was little talk between them; at first just a few words referring to what had just happened, then silence. si-lence. The high seat of a lurching mountain stage is at do time the ideal spot for any steady flow of conversation; further, just now Cole Cody, driving a team new to him, the horses still of a mood to jam their necks deep into their collars and take the bits in their teeth and run away, had his work cut out for him then, too, he had to keep his eyes focused watchfully on a road none too good, full of bends and kinks and spotted with chuck holes and crossed by ridges and hollows, a tricky road by daylight to a man familiar with it, far worse than that by nlghtlight to a stranger. He had buckled the stage driver's leather belt about him for anchorage; anchor-age; the girl kept a hand locked on the iron guard rail at the back of the seat. But whereas he had to watch the road, she was free to watch him out of the corners of her eyes. There were times when there was a little approving half-smile half-smile on her lips. At times with the swaying of the stagecoach her sleeve brushed his; she was warmly aware of the slight contact. She approved of this and the way he walked and talked and bore himself. Unconsciously she drew a long, quivering sigh And it was just at that moment, as the stage having rocked through a bit of starlit clearing was about to plunge into another of the dark, forested canyons, that Cole Cody put on his brakes and pulled his horses down, and said hastily his voice sounded curt to her, "Look here! You've got to get down and ride inside!" "Oh!" she said. She whipped back from him, as far away as the seat allowed. She was having such a wonderful ride! The wind in her face, her hat blown back and the wind in her hair, her lips partly opened to let the cool fresh air stream across them living only in the moment, looking less at the dark world about her than at the glitter of the heavens above. So she said, "Oh!'.', an "Oh" like an icicle. He was still slowing his team down, not looking at her but straight ahead. "And tell Bert Nevers I want him up here with me. You can help your aunt with the two wounded men." What a crude sort of beast he really was. She no. longer felt the cool air against her face; her cheeks were burning hot. She bit her lip before she spoke. Then her voice sounded gay and it also sounded quite determined. "But I prefer to ride outside. It wai stuffy in there and I like the wind in my face. I was miles away, thinking " He had the horses at a restless standstill now and turned briefly toward to-ward her. "I've been a fooL" he muttered. "I wasn't thinking " "I've heard that all men are fools," she said brightly. "Are you going to drive on? I am not getting down!" "I tell you, I wasn't thinking!" He was urgent, and sounded harsh. His eyes bad only flicked at her, then turned ahead again, to the road entering the deeper dark in the canyon. can-yon. "Just because those two highwaymen high-waymen rode oft doesn't necessarily mean that they've gone for good. They may waylay us again. You mustn't be up here! Let Bert Nevers Nev-ers come up; if there's any trouble he can use Long Peters' carbine." "I won't do it! I am going to stay here. Whether you like it or don't like it, Mr. Cody, I am staying here!" "You'll do nothing of the kind. Look here, Miss Lee " "I won't look. And I won't go down!" 'Til make you get down! I'll drag you off the seat and throw you inside!" in-side!" She laughed at him, treating him to her scorn at its best. "You just try it!" He put one hand on her shoulder, the other busied with the reins and Miss Ann Lee slapped his face. Good and hard. And his temper blew off the lid. Lord, Lordy, this girl was the most unreasonable little chit of a thing that was ever born to drive a man mad. He yielded to the urge within him and caught her hard and fast in the circle of his free arm and drew her stonlshed body close to him and kissed her on the mouth. Good and hard. A kiss every bit as emphatic as a slap. She gasped and jerked away and scrubbed her mouth with her hand and then with all her might she slapped him again! The blow jarred him; after it was over he could feel the shape of her hand, fingers and all, etched in fire along his cheek and jaw. For an instant he sat rigid. Then again he dragged her to him and again he kissed her, and it was a long kiss, his lips crushing hers, before he would let her go. "I didn't do that for any fun I get out of it," he told her in a cold fury. "It's just the best way I know to slap you back, you little wildcat." And, making sure that she saw, he scrubbed his lips savagely with the back of his hand . . . And she slapped him! And, as he was reaching out for her she let the carbine slide off her lap and scrambled scram-bled out of the seat and half leaped, half fell over the wheel to the ground. Aunt Jenifer's voice called up, "What's wrong? Why are we stopping?" stop-ping?" He took a long breath to steady himself, then answered. "I just saw a wildcat Oh, never mind! We'll be going right on. I want Bert Nevers up here with me. Miss Lee will ride inside after this." Bert Nevers came as desired, retrieved re-trieved the fallen gun, climbed up beside the driver. "What's all this about wild cats?" he demanded. Cody threw off the brake and started. A scream stopped him. It was Aunt Jenifer. . "Mr. Cody! What on earth! Ann isn't even in yet." "That's all right, Aunt Jenny," said Ann's voice if it really was 121 His slim brown hand ran like the flick of a striking snake to his. side, Ann's! "I could walk from here. Thank you for waiting, Mr. Cody. I hesitated because I thought I just saw a skunk!" Then she got into the stage. And from that spot on into Bald Eagle the stage horses probably made the best time they had ever made in their lives. The two old porch-sitters in front of the Bald Eagle Hotel smoked and sat in a companionably gloomy silence. si-lence. They didn't once mention Early Bill Cole. But like the Irishman's Irish-man's parrot who didn't talk, they did a lot of thinking. They had known for a long while that Early Bill had seen his last roundup, had watched his last spring come in and bloom out into young golden summer, sum-mer, and yet now that he was gone they missed him as neither of them had ever realized they could miss an old reprobate like Bill Cole. It was early dark, a couple of hours after sunset, and fitful music blared and died in the saloons accordion ac-cordion -and music box and somewhere some-where the scraping of an inaccurate, languid fiddle; men went up and down, stopping in small knots now and then for an exchange of old news; everything was quiet yet mildly expectant, for it was stage-day stage-day and time now any minute for Long Peters to swing his racing team into Main Street and pull up in front of the hotel in a great billowing bil-lowing volume of dust. The stage came lurching and rocking rock-ing around the bend, the four horses at the run, and pulled up at its usual usu-al place. That was because Bert Nevers had instructed the stranger-driver. stranger-driver. Men caught the horses by the bits; Cole Cody tossed his reins far out to right and left, socketed his whip and got down. He ran briskly up the steps and confronted the Judge and Doc Joe. "There are a couple of men in the stage who've been hurt," he said crisply. "Where'll I find a doctor?" "Who are you? Where's Long Peters?" Pe-ters?" demanded the Judge. "Long Peters is one of the men that got hurt Both of them want a doctor right away." Doc Joe stood up. "Get' the men inside," he said. "I'll go ahead and have a room ready." He went into the hotel. The Judge threw away his cigar and reached to his pocket "Bad hurt?" he asked, and stood up. "Not Peters. The other man, Andy An-dy Jenkins is the other, I'm afraid he's in pretty bad shape." His eyes had followed the departing Doc Joe. "He the doctor?" The Judga nodded and went down the steps to watch proceedings and to direct. Already the stage doors were open, folks were getting down. He saw a couple of females, didn't pay them any attention. He watched Long Peters descend under his own power. Men standing close lifted little Andy Jenkins out; at first they and the Judge, too, thought him dead already. He was carried into the hotel, Long Peters following. Men were asking rapid-fire questions: ques-tions: Just what had happened? Where? When? The two women, looking a bit bewildered as so many earnest-eager men milled about them, clung to each other and looked for escape. Upon Bert Nevers, known to many here, fell the duty of giving a running account of the holdup, hold-up, and Aunt Jenifer and Ann broke free. One of the men, though still held here to listen to Bert Nevers, followed fol-lowed the two with their appraising eyes. Cole Cody, standing on the steps leading to the raised platform before be-fore the hotel, looked down over the throng a moment. He himself was accosted and asked to tell about everything; ev-erything; curtly he jerked his head toward Bert Nevers. "He knows all about it; listen to him," he said, and moved away. Cody didn't look back to see Aunt Jenifer and Ann Lee make their way into the hotel lobby. Ann, looking with quick interest in all directions, saw his back; in the swing of his stride and in the set of his shoulders and even in the way he wore his hat she read something of the man's mood. He was still furious; he was impatient to be done with the stage and all it contained, all that it suggested sug-gested to him. She had the swift impression that he was headed straight for the first saloon and meant to wash a lot of things out of his memory with good strong liquor. She was, in this, quite right. Young Mr. William Cole Cody felt not only desolate and down-in-the-mouth, but mean and ugly. He made something of entering the Last Chance Saloon; he struck the swing door with his shoulder as a man aswarm through his veins with belligerence bel-ligerence might smite an enemy. The half-door, flung violently back, struck a man about to depart and all but swept him off his feet. This man glared and showed his teeth. Those teeth of his were as white as snow, as glistening as a hound's teeth and about as sharp. He was a small, aged Mexican-Indian, Porflrio Lopez by name, a stranger here in "Bald Eagle and, tonight in no mood at all to be knocked around. His slim brown hand ran like the flick of a striking snake to his side just under his ornamental jacket. It would have been with him just then a supreme joy and a perfectly superb relief to slit somebody's gullet from ear to ear. And then he saw who it was! "Don Codito!" he cried. He dropped all thoughts of his knife and caught both Cody's hands in the warm Latin way. "Gracias a Dios! Look Senor! Me, all over, I weeshed I was thead! I ask for to thie! And now! I kees your hands, the two!" All of which meant, Thank God! When I was ready to die, here you are! You! "You are drunk, Porflrio," said Don Codito. "Go to bed." Porflrio laughed like a coyote. He pulled his hair, looked at his hands, saw that he had caught some few harsh black strands between his lean fingers and tossed them upward. up-ward. "Boracho, Senor?" That laughter of his showed those teeth of his to all advantage; and still in his laughter laugh-ter there was the snarl of a coyote, the threat and surrender of a wounded wound-ed wolf. He said quite simply, "This is one other time, Senor Don Codito, Co-dito, you save my life. We are going go-ing to drink one with the other. You will honor me in this little thing, this thing that is so big, Don Codito?" Co-dito?" Porflrio began, frank and unhidden unhid-den in all he did, to cry. "Pretty soon," he confessed, "I am going to cry like one babee. The fines' man in this worl', the fines' man, I am a-tellin' you, is sick; he is pretty sick." (Only Porflrio said "seek.") "He is goin' to die! Aie! I jumped on top my bes' horse, an' I ride 'n I ride an' I ride, Senor. You believe me? More than one hundred, more than one hundred and twenty-five, more than one hundred and fifty (feefty) miles, I ride! An' so, here I am an' he is already dead!" He put his head down on the bar and let his tears run at large. "I'm sorry, Porflrio," he said in voice as gentle as his heavy hand. Porflrio jerked up his head, tossed back his black mane of hair, getting get-ting it cleared away from his burning burn-ing black eyes and began to laugh. (TO BE COSTISLEDJ |