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Show fc f JACKSOM GREGORY lf JfckF GREGORY W.N.U. RELEASE THE STORY SO FAR: Ann Lee and Cole Cody, beneficiaries under two identical identi-cal wills of Old Bill Cole, were attempting attempt-ing to discover who Bred the bullet which caused his death. Suspicion centered around Ranee Waldron, who, posing as Old Bill's nephew, had taken up residence at the ranch. Trailed by Cody one night to a deserted cabin, Ranee was discovered discov-ered arguing with the notorious Tom Gough over the many "jobs" they had pulled. Later that night Ranee left the ranch, apparently to Join Gough at the deserted cabin. Cody delivered his copy of Old Bill's will to the Judge for safe keeping, and Ann gave her copy of the other Identical will to Doc Joe. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER XV Young as the summer was, it was a lazily languid day by now, and both the judge and Doc Joe were inclined in-clined to a sort ol dreamful ease, the horses had expended their first, early morning zest, and the homeward home-ward journey lacked the speed and dash marking its first phase, from Bald Eagle to the King Cole Ranch. Now the sun was higher and warmer, warm-er, now the two old cronies were drowsy and pleasurably sentimental, sentimen-tal, their eyes heavy-lidded from last night's indulgence and in a spot where the narrow road wound down into a cool and shady ravine both men were rudely startled when a man on horseback cut unexpectedly unexpected-ly into the road in front of them and issued his orders. The man wore a mask improvised from a bandana handkerchief, and his voice was a strange muffled voice he might have had pebbles in his mouth and his few, briskly spoken words were to the effect that the Judge and Doc Joe were to stop where they were and not reach for any guns provided they carried such articles ar-ticles as, naturally, both did. "Who do you think you are," the old Judge snorted, "telling us where to head In?" "I want everything In your pockets," pock-ets," he said, "and I want it quick. If you make a fuss about it I'll kill the two of you inside ten seconds." They reached for their purses and tossed them into the dry, dusty grass alongside the road. "There you are, Stranger," grumbled grum-bled Doc Joe. "Take It" "I said I wanted everything in your pockets," he was reminded In a voice which rankled long in his memory. "Everything you've got." "That's all we got," roared the Judge, his hand itching to reach for the old Colt he hadn't gone without with-out for many and many a year, but never stirring an inch toward it because he knew better. "Get a move on, you fools! Turn your pockets out." They strove to fumble and to hide the papers they had carried, that given Doc Joe by Ann Lee, that en- trusted to the Judge by Bill Cole Cody. But the steady eyes bent upon them were too watchful. "Everything, I tell you! Empty your pockets to your nose rags and tobacco. Everything you've got. Pitch it out and drive on and get a move on doing it!" Doc Joe had a pet corn, and he was apt to slaughter a man who trod on it. And certainly none knew about this corn better than did the Judge. . And now the Judge trod heavily and deliberately on Doc Joe's corn. And Doc Joe, already stung almost beyond endurance, caught the signal sig-nal and was glad to have the Judge with him, and like one man the two of them went for their guns. Well along in years they might be, but they were not the type of man whose coat tail you tread on with impunity any more than you go poking a stick at an old rattlesnake. rattle-snake. Actuated by the same instinctive impulse, alike not caring for their present position on the buggy seat, as they snatched at their side arms they threw themselves clear, over the wheels Into the road, landing anyhow, sprawling. Doc Joe sat up and began firing at the masked rider; rid-er; tlie Judge rested on his knees and loosed his own screaming bullets. bul-lets. Their horses, left to their own device, de-vice, startled by the crash of gunfire, gun-fire, bolted, headed straight toward the man at whose command they had been halted. He, too, was firing, fir-ing, rapidly yet not so rapidly as to bespeak any nerve-storm; wasting no time, yet spacing his shots coolly. His horse started to lunge, as the frightened team almost ran him down; his bandana slipped; both Judge and Doc Joe saw who it was. "Ranee Waldron!" roared the old Judge and, his shooting skill not being be-ing quite what it had been once upon a time a long time ago, shot Waldron's horse through the throat. The beast reared and screamed and fell, pawing the air with flailing hoofs; Ranee Waldron leaped clear. A sharp cry of warning burst from Doc Joe. "Judge! Look out! There's another anoth-er of them hid in the bushes like when they held the stage up the other day!" The runaway team went thundering thunder-ing down the road. Taking advantage advan-tage of a moment of confusion, the Judge strove to scramble behind a big pine. Ranee, on foot now was firing again, and bullets came whiz-ling whiz-ling from the man whom Doc Joe nad glimpsed joining Ranee's attack tram a point of some small shelter. The Judge got a good clear view of him and, steadying his hand and taking time for it, drove two bullets into Tom Gough's body. The Judge had but half a dozen paces to go, to come to his big pine, -but never made the short distance. dis-tance. Ranee shot him through the upper body, and the old fellow sprawled on his face and for a moment mo-ment lay there, clawing at the dust. Doc Joe couldn't spare time off to look at him; he could only yell, "Get up. Judge! You're all right, you old fool." But he couldn't help but see how little puffs of dust arose from under the claws which his old crony's hands had become, and how the lean tall figure writhed, seeking to roll over, to get back into the fight, his strength failing him. "We got one down!" panted Doc Joe. "We'll get that Ranee varmint var-mint in a minute." But somehow his eyes weren't as clear as they used to be; he had to blink them once. And there was a tremor in his hand, no matter how steady and firm his wilL Ranee, unafraid it would appear, and contemptuous, con-temptuous, laughed at him and fired and sang out all together, "That for you, you meddling old fool!" Old Doc Joe spat back at him with verbal vitriol and hot lead glad to be fighting even though he knew the Judge had not as yet risen. Doc Joe himself surged up to his feet at last, but only in time to drop again, his weapon falling fall-ing from his suddenly limp grasp, and when he fell, lying crookedly on his side facing the Judge yet failing to see him or anything else on earth, the reason for his fall was written in a bright red dripping smear upon his temple. Ranee Waldron stood stone still where he was, save for the swift, sure movement of his fingers reloading; re-loading; his eyes were hard and bright and suspicious, bent shrewd- The beast reared, screamed and fell pawing the air. ly upon the two old men lying one in the dusty road, the other at its side. He saw that there was never a twitch in Doc Joe's body; he marked how feebly the Judge struggled, strug-gled, still face down, still unable to turn over. Then for an instant only his hard bright eyes flicked toward the brush down into which Tom Gough had spilled. "Tom!" he called. "Tom! Are you all right? Or are you done for? Playing possum, to keep out of the fight, or dying? Speak up, man!" "I'm all shot up, Ranee. Help me, quick; I'll bleed to death." "You're always getting yourself all shot up; you're always bleeding to death," grumbled Ranee. "What are you good for? Bleed and be darned to you." He stepped along then, not toward Tom Gough but toward the two old men in the road, a fully loaded gun in each of his hands. He came first to Doc Joe, stopped and stood looking down at him, then moved on, muttering, "Deader'n a door nail, and a good job, too." The Judge, as a final spasm of strength swept along on a final spasm of pain, sat up; he even groped for his fallen gun and found it. All the strength he could summon sum-mon was needed to lift the heavy Colt .45. But there was living murder mur-der in his eyes and, though he did not speak, he cursed Ranee Waldron. Wal-dron. Deliberately, not hastening. Ranee Waldron shot him square between the eyes . . . He turned then, still deliberate, and broke his way through the brush to where Tom Gough lay with his shoulders wedged against a rock, his hands pressed against his chest and side. There was a terrible look in Tom Gough's eyes, a look of fear and of dumb agony and of wild pleading, a hopeless pleading for there was no spark of hope in those dulling eyes. "So you're done for, are you, Tom?" said Waldron. He didn't exactly ex-actly taunt, didn't exactly smile, but there was the stamp of infinite cruelty, cru-elty, callous and unfeeling, in his look. He said quietly, no emotion whatever tinging his tone, "Here, I'll lend you a hand." Heavy man though Tom Gough was, Ranee Waldron lifted him easily eas-ily and bore him the short distance to the roadside. There he put him down, not more than a score of paces from where the still bodies of the Judge and Doc Joe lay. "Those two are dead, Tom," said Ranee. "Folks'll find them tomorrow. tomor-row. They'll find you, too. They'll say you stuck 'em up, and you three shot It out and all three of you cut one another down." "For God's sake, Ranee!" Ranee shot him twice through the body. It wouldn't do to have all three men shot through the head! He emptied the pockets of both the Judge and Doc Joe. He glanced at the two wills and put them into his pocket. He gathered up the rest of their personal effects, money and watches, and dropped the lot close to Tom Gough's outflung hand. Then he went to Tom Gough's horse and ' rode away into the thickest of the wooded hills, leaving his own horse, i not dead yet, but dying slowly, to kick its life out. It was a sweet day, averted young Gaucho Ortega, idling homeward from Bald Eagle, as he came first of all upon the wreckage of brutal tragedy. Only three or four miles from town, where a canyon debouched upon the valley on the farther rim of which Bald Eagle sunned itself, he saw the runaway team. He recognized rec-ognized the horses with a sweeping glance: Doc Joe and the Judge had had a runaway. But where were they? Then, a couple of miles farther on, he came upon the three bodies asprawl in the road or at its edge. "Holy Mother of God!" gasped Gaucho, and turned sick, horror struck. "Three men dead! And the old Judge and Doc Joe two of them!" When his wits returned to him he thought straight tft-the point: It was less than half a dozen miles back to Bald Eagle, more than twice that distance to the ranch. So he rode back toward Bald Eagle like a dark streak through the afternoon sunshine. sun-shine. And it was the same Gaucho who later brought the heavy tidings to the King Cole Ranch. Aunt Jenifer and Ann Lee were in the patio, and when Gaucho burst upon them they stared back at him, speechless. At first, so great was the shock, that they felt nothing; they couldn't make his running words make sense, there was no reality in what he was voicing so wildly. The Judge and Doc Joe, dead? Dead! When so little a while ago And they didn't say a word, didn't ask a question, didn't even look at each other until Gaucho sped away to find Carl Roundtree and the other oth-er boys and tell all that had happened. hap-pened. For one thing, there was nothing to ask, so complete if hurried hur-ried had been the boy's details. And there was nothing to say. Slowly their impassive faces changed and their eyes met. The dazed look had gone and in its place came horror, then grief splashed with sudden tears. Those two fine gallant old men, dead! Ann Lee wept softly then, her face hidden in her hands, her body rocking, rock-ing, convulsed. Aunt Jenifer dashed the tears from her eyes and sat very straight, her head up, her eyes steady now with almost the glint of steel in them, bent upon far away distances. Presently she spoke very gently, but she did not stir from where she sat on the old green bench. "They were two fine men, Ann darling; they were old; they had to go sometime; like Early Bill they had had their fun." Her lips thinned to bleak silence; then she added crisply, "And they killed the murderer mur-derer who shot them down! That's something." Ann was hushed, but not for long. Hope that will not down without a death struggle sprang up In her breast. "Maybe they are not really dead!" she exclaimed excitedly. "A man can be shot, he can be badly hurt, unconscious even, and yet live!" And she started running to the men's quarters. She came upon a small knot of men, Cole Cody and Cal Roundtree and Porfirio and two others, grouped in a sort of circle, their heads down, their boot toes for the most part scraping in the dirt, as they listened to Gaucho's words. She screamed at them before she reached them to hurry for a doctor, to do what they could to save two lives which otherwise other-wise might be lost even while they stood here doing nothing. Cal turned on his heel. "I'm off to town. boys. I'll take care of things if anything's needed. Come along, Cody?" Cody shook his head. "Later maybe, Cal; in the buck-board, buck-board, if I do come, so you tetter not wait" (TO BE COXTIMED) |