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Show gPSp By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM l g) EUGENE CUNNINGHAM W. N. U. R.ELEAS E ll- THE STORY SO FAR: When Con Cameron Cam-eron arrives in Wild Horse alter his flrst trip as a cowhand, he finds himself him-self rich! In the midst of trouble. Wild Horse is controlled by Asa Brock, a cattle cat-tle buyer, who has the marshal. Dynamite Dyna-mite Downes, on his side. Nevll Lowe, a rancher, quarrels with Brock, and Con saves Lowe from being shot by a deputy marshal called "EI Muchacho." After that the town is no longer safe for him, o he hits the trail again, leaving his pal, Caramba Vear, behind. At Fronteras, another frontier town, he meets Lee Welsh and his two companions, the Ranters, Ran-ters, who Invite him to Join them. But' Con learns that the trio is wanted tor murder, and when tho Ranters kill Welsh during a quarrel, Con goes on alone toward to-ward Tlvan, where Nevll Lowe has Just been made marshal. Con believes Lowe will help him, since he is Indebted to Con for saving his life. But when Con gets to TivVn he is seized as a partner of Welsh and the Raniers. He tries to escape, but is struck down by Lowe himself. him-self. Now continue with the story. "You're up Salt Creek without a paddle." CHAPTER V His eyes grew used to the dim light. He blinked around and saw that the room holding him was small, perhaps eight by ten feet, H n Ann rn hie loft .t.nriinn oior "I see," he drawled. "She had Caramba roped, but he got away before she tied him. So. tie's a scoundrel. Maybe so, but my notion no-tion is, he's a lucky one. But she didn't say anything about his introducing intro-ducing me to her and telling just , when and how I joined the 20 Bars. J Too full of her disappointment, prob- ably." i He fumbled for tobacco and papers. pa-pers. "You put your sister on the train and told her to have a good time. You went on to the Metropole and saw Mrs. Kleiss. I went there, too. hunting Caramba Vear. We stood in the door of the dining room while you thanked Mrs. Kleiss for being nice to Janet. But I can see that all this still leaves me a buscadero. if you feel that way. Even leaves me "You're up Salt Creek without a I paddle and a hole in the boat! Did you really see Nevil Lowe in Wild Horse?" "I saw him there. He was pointed point-ed out to me as a man who was on the edge of a lot of trouble." Briefly, he told of Lowe's difficulty with Asa Brock, while Oil informed i Fant and the others of his opinions. Jeff's shrewd eyes were on him steadily. "Don't tell me you're the man I that shot Lincoln, too!" Jeff said. 1 grinning. He began to talk of Dud Para more and Con listened sullenly. By Jeff's account, Paramore was a gun-J gun-J man and horse thief second to none i the Southwest had ever known. "When are you going to ask Lowe e to let you go?" Con said sourly. "Or From his handcuffs a yard of chain ran to a Cottonwood log in the wall That freckled and cheerful cowboy who had refused his drink in Fronteras Fron-teras was chained on his right. He grinned at Con. "Weill" he drawled. "Out of the stars, huh? About time. Nevil Lowe hogtied you there seems like half an hour back." - "You're Jeff Allmon," Con said slowly. "Martino Palafox mentioned you to us. the other night. You work with Quirk Ellis, I hear." "No more!" Jeff Allmon denied. The door on Con's left was hooked open by a toe. He looked into a larger room, and lighter. By swaying, sway-ing, he could see two rows of three men each, chained to the walls as he and Jeff Allmon were. In the center cen-ter of one line a tall man sat Com as this Comanche who was snot in the robbery and died in the saddle, Lee Welsh said. All right! I'm done talking." Lowe said nothing, only turned to go out. Janet got up quickly and followed. From the next room the murmur of their voices carried to Con as he and Jeff stood. "Not a thing!" Lowe was saying to Janet "Except The description of Comanche warns against being deceived by baby face, and remarks re-marks that he is amazingly plausible plausi-ble liar and born murderer! I couldn't take a chance, even if I fell inclined and I don't feel inclined-not inclined-not the least bit!" When they were chained to the log once more and alone. Jeff leaned to Con and whispered: "How do you feel about taking a Daseo? To the Lobo Hills?" do you want me to ask him? Instead of answering. Jeff began to whistle. He shook his head when Con asked questions. The gloom of the improvised jail became dusk. The door opened and Chunky the deputy brought a Mexican waiter who carried a big tray. A wall lamp was lighted in each room. From the flat-voiced Oil came caustic remarks re-marks about restaurant meals bought with stolen money. When the waiter had gone, an elderly eld-erly Mexican woman brought food in pots and pans for the other prisoners in the large room. She did not serve Jeff and Con. He looked at the deputy. "Sheriff says you two can eat in bis kitchen." Chunky explained. "Do'no' why!" He saw the Mexican woman out. i i nf hanH. fortably, smoking a cigar, a dark and handsome figure, more than well-dressed. "That's Milam Fant," Jeff Allmon informed Con in an admiring undertone. under-tone. He was sheriff till they got the gov'nor to jerk him out, account of some killings and missing cows they say he knows about." "I've heard of him," Con admitted. admit-ted. He checked himself as he was about to say that he had heard little good of Fant, except as to physical bravery and efficiency. "He was marshal of a half-dozen tough towns, before he came back here. What are you bundled up for?" "Title trouble," Jeff said, with widening of his perennial grin. "I won't kill anybody to get out," Con whispered grimly, "but that's about the only line I draw!" "You got awful little hands. Try twisting. These old cuffs are stiff and clumsy. You can slip 'em-Try!" 'em-Try!" It was hard and painful maneuvering, maneuver-ing, but amazedly Con found himself free of the right cuff. Then Jeff passed to him a tiny bit of pointed steel which he called a picklock. Under his whispered directions, Con worked at the left handcuff until it opened. "I had the pick hid all time," Jeff tnlri him. "But these cuffs keep your then produced a single pair of handcuffs. hand-cuffs. He locked Con and Jeff wrist-to-wrist. then unlocked the heavy, old - fashioned gyves which had chained them to the log. The two stood, stretched, twisted. They went out ahead of Chunky's drawn pistol and into a narrow hall, waited while he locked the door behind them, then descended a narrow flight of stairs. At the back of this adobe building was the dirt-floored kitchen, presided over by the Mexican woman who had carried food. But at a table opposite op-posite that on which two plates and cups were set, Janet Lowe kneaded dough. She looked up at the two and Con kept his face blank, his eyes trained to the side of her. Jeff seemed at ease. "Hi, Janet!" he said cheerfully. T uk like nie crust. Save me Con sat, with lessening neaaacne, to consider his own trouble's. He moved slightly and the handcuffs pressed upon his wrists. Something very like panic began to rise in him as a key rattled in the door behind be-hind him and it squeaked open. He turned to face a short, wide man, a very ordinary cowboy little older than himself, notable only because bis round face wore a tension that did not seem to belong upon it. Behind Be-hind this cowboy, though, was Nevil Lowe. He did have a swollen cheek. "Sheriff!" Con called instantly. "Can I talk to you a minute? I was looking for you when Bain jumped me. I'm sorry 1 hit you, but things were moving pretty fast and" "Later," Lowe said evenly, without with-out looking at him. "I'm busy, now. bands so close together I couldn't work it Try it on mine, now." They continued to sit in the dim light of the wall lamp, when both "Looks like pie crust. Save me the middle, will you with the hT ring of pie that goes out to the edges of the pan? I'm partial to that part of pies. Carnacion! Did you" he slipped into accentless Spanish as he grinned at the cook "make that stew of the marvelous aroma with your own tiny, lily hands?" "Picaro! Rascal!" Carnacion snapped. "Compliments to a grandmother! grand-mother! I will not be fooled. Who is this handsome boy? Someone has made a mistake, or he would not be in el calabozo!" "He is the boy who rode with three robbers," Janet broke in, also in Spanish. "My brother had a telegram tele-gram about these men. Martino Palafox met them, not knowing more than that they seemed dangerous dan-gerous and came toward Tivan. So he telegraphed. Then young Ber- I i mAt Vi om onH ;ome on. Chunky. He went with the cowboy trailing into the other room. Con had a glimpse of him moving from prisoner pris-oner to prisoner, seeming to inspect their handcuffs. He talked briefly to someone not Fant. Nevil Lowe came out, followed by Fant's jeering voice. He looked at a man in the door and shook his head. , "He's not going to talk. I didn t think he would, Mr. Tenison. It's as Chunky said: Oil was a good man and except for his mistaken notions about other men's stock, he's a good man yet. We'll just have to scout around for his friends. Can you do it?" Topeka Tenison nodded slightly. Lowe turned expressionless face upon Con. "I wired Salado about you. I don t , w,u inns it will take, but the were free. Jett seemeo unuiuvcu. "Just a liT more oil in that lamp," he muttered. "When it goes out, I'll tie into the door lock . . ." Time went draggingly. There was some talk in the next room as the wick that Con watched gave off a smaller and smaller flame. Then Milam Fant wondered audibly why Chunky had not come up to put out the lights. "We got a self-cocker lamp in here," Jeff called. "Just wiggle your left liT finger and out she goes! Like that!" The flame rose brilliantly, then shrank to a red edge and disappeared. disap-peared. Fant laughed and called to Jeff to come in and put out the other oth-er one. Con and Jeff were at the door. Jeff whistling almost soundlessly as he worked with the pick at the cheap m lock. There was a click that know how long it will take, but me eriff there seems pretty anxious to return any or all of the Ramer bunch. He's sending deputies. You clayed in fool's luck when you resisted re-sisted arrest, or you wouldn't be waiting for the Salado men. -Listen! Do you know Buzz Upper-man Upper-man of the 20 Bar? He sold to Asa Brock at the same time you were dickering with Brock.' If he's sUll u Wild Horse or Vacaton. he'U idenUfy me and prove to you by telegram mat I was with his herd and couldn t have been shooting at that express messenger. And in Wild . Horse ,s a friend of mine from the 20 Bar. William Vear. Goes by Caramba He will identify me for you. Ill nay for the telegrams-" "I've got a lot of tilings on my mind besides you. I can't be bothered both-ered right .now. with hunting trail bosses and cowboys I don't know. The Salado men will look you over. You can wait!" When the door had closed behind Lowe Chunky, and Topeka Tenison. Ton stared grimly at it- -What?" Con grunted, looking at jefl. "Didn't hear you." nardo Hernandez met them and heard one admit that they were bus-caderos. bus-caderos. He told his father, who telegraphed. So when this boy rode in, alone, he was taken." Con understood only a part of the rapid-fire talk, but quite enough to be uncomfortable. Jeff looked curiously curi-ously at him as they ate cuffed right and left hands on the table between their plates - with their spoons that were their only utensils. Nevil Lowe came into the kitchen with a telegram. He looked coldly at Con. -I wired Wild Horse about your men, Upperman and Vear. It seems that Upperman brought in a herd, as you said. But he left right away. Nobody knows exactly where to locate lo-cate him. As for Vear-Mrs. Kleiss at the Metropole says he's not there, either but she knows him for a scoundrel and any friend of his is probably the same." Con stared trowningly. He was oddly unmoved-except that Lowe's contemptuous expression, the eyes of Janet upon him, roused an ugly irritation. sounded thunderous to Con and Jeff's triumphant ahl The door swung slowly open a crack. "Come on, cowboy!" Jeff breathed. "Nobody in the haD!" He stopped for long enough to re-lock re-lock the door as quietly as it had been unlocked. A muttering of several sev-eral voices sounded below them. Then feet. ' "This way!" Jeff grunted. They went into the storeroom as several sets of feet climbed the stairs. The window was a casement case-ment and only latched. They dropped two yards to the ground when hanging at arms' length from the sill. Dimly, from overhead, they heard what seemed many voices snarling. Por dios!" Jeff breathed gaspingly- "I told you I smelled a bang-knot! bang-knot! If that ain't the stranglers taking 'em out No wonder Chunky never showed up! Come on! What we need is cover!" He led the way at a run, to a ditch near some cottonwoods. (TO BE COVTISVED) |