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Show jPllfe By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM Jll '4g e EU&ENE CUNNINGHAM W.ltU. R.ELEASE CHAPTER I The 20 Bar herd was strung out over a half-mile of, the flat. Behind the lead cattle the straggling column col-umn moved forward toward that distant dis-tant plume of gray smoke that marked a train on the new railroad. Con Cameron was one of the eight swing riders divided between the two sides of the herd. He was small, muscular, quick-moving, with alert gray eyes in a smooth, square face. He looked younger than his twenty years, in spite of small, reddish mustache and shaggy hair and the heavy tan of a month's hard trailing. trail-ing. Like the other riders, he was very shabby. His dusty old Stetson and too-big boots and patched flannel flan-nel shirt and once-green trousers gave him a trampish look. He looked down at himself and grinned one-sidedly. "Nothing that can't be cured in Wild Horse," he thought. "If the regulars draw fifty a month, I ought to get half that, or about thirty dollars. dol-lars. For Buzz Upperman is a mighty square boss. Pancho, here, doubtless goes with the other horses, and I haven't got enough to cover the hull and bridle. But I'll make out! One thing sure: I was lucky when I headed for Texas." A big bay steer edged out of the column and began to work wolfishly to the side, behind Con. As if he Con sat Pancho the sorrel beside Caramba's bay. had eyes in his stubby tail, Pancho spun about and jumped into a lope. Con gave easily to the sudden movement move-ment and let Pancho head the steer. The wise sorrel nipped the bay rump and grunted reprovingly; then took up his jog again. Caramba Vear lifted his voice in a Comanche war whoop not for any special reason, rea-son, Con knew, but only because the spirit had moved him. From the "point" far ahead. Buzz Upperman loped his bald-faced horse toward the "drag" of the herd. When he came to Con, he turned about to ride with him. He was inches above six feet, a narrow-shouldered narrow-shouldered old man with the arched nose and small dark eyes of an Indian. In-dian. As a veteran trail boss he had few equals in either experience or ability. "Well, it's Wild Horse tomorrow, son," he graeted Con. "See that engine smoke? Hard to believe it's got and politeness out of him while they're ripping the hide off him. You bring up a herd of longhorns and if you don't know the ropes, you'll get skinned when you sell to one of the buyers in the ring. If you don't like the price and decide you'll ship somewheres else for a fair offer, something'll likely happen to you, and your longhorns they'll end up in that buyer's iron that you wouldn't deal with." Near the corrals a fat, red-faced, and noisy man came to meet the 20 Bars. With him was a short, very wide man, who had huge hands and ' the bulging gray eyes of a short-tempered short-tempered person. Con observed the expensive gray Stetson, the fine broadcloth suit, the gleaming kid boots, of this man and wondered if- Asa. I could drive in or not drive in. And I'm well-knowed among cowmen. If something was to happen hap-pen to me, there'd be trouble with some salty customers, plenty of 'em Lowe is a stranger. Brock stands in with the crowd that runs Wild Horse. He'll try some shenanigan, keep Lowe from getting away." Lowe had freed himself of the persistent per-sistent buyer, looking all around the room with his faint, pleasant smile. Now he went out, and Brock, anger very plain in the set of his fat back, looked after him. Then he whirled and went waddling toward the gambling gam-bling side of the Drovers', where men were crowding about the games. He disappeared but came quickly in sight beside Dynamite Downes. The stocky, dandified mar-ohoi mar-ohoi nf wilrt PnrsR listened to shal of Wild Horse listened to Brock's rapid talk with a blank face, as they went down the room toward a door in a plank partition wall. Upperman said his brief goodbyes to the ex-20 Bar men and banged Con on the shoulder with a hard hand. When he had gone, Caramba led the way to the faro layout. Baldy was already there, besides townsmen and cowboys from other herds. He pushed silver onto the painted queen of the layout and the dealer, blank-faced as the grizzled lookout above him, glanced at the layout, and dealt. When Baldy won, he threw back his head for a yell. Then, meeting the sour stare of the lookout, he swallowed and drew in his winnings. "If a man was to win quiet, ,i,i that ho all rieht?" Caramba more'n fifteen mile off, huh? "I was just watching it. And that's Trail's End . . ." "Well," Buzz Upperman drawled reflectively, "I been trailing cattle one place and another, it's a good many year, now. But this sashay has been crowdeder than ary three or four drives I ever made, all put together. Well, you're some different differ-ent from the tramp kid that hit our camp that night with old Zelotus Imel's freight outfit. You filled out plenty on 20 Bar beef and beans and lots of hard work. And you made a band, son. I'm free to tell you that. Nothing wrong with your riding and roping and shooting and plenty that's all right with all of em! Funny ... you picking up things like that, around Chicago he were the buyer Buzz Upperman had dealt with. Then, as if settling some argument with the fat man, the dandy said snarlingly: "I'm Big He of Wild Horse! They better not forget it." "Dynamite Downes," Caramba whispered to him. - Buzz Upperman was promptly as good as his promise, when the herd had been turned over to his buyer. He took Con and Caramba in charge and discouraged the latter's moves toward the inviting doors of Wild Horse saloons. When a barber shop had done all possible for them in the way of baths and haircuts and shaves, he led the way to a general store. A black Stetson, blue flannel shirts, waist overaUs, heavy woolen Stucrvj'ciiua. "Well, it's as I told you: Uncle Hugh worked around the yards. He'd lived in Texas a long time-all time-all his life, maybe until Aunt Hetty made him come back to what she called civilization. I think I was born in Texas, but they never actually actu-ally told me so, or told me much of anything. Neither was a talker. And they were both killed in an excursion excur-sion train accident last year." "When we hit Wild Horse, you 11 be free to start out and whittle off your chunk of living. You keep that saddle and horse and all the rest of his stuff. Then, I'm going to buy you a new rigout from John B. to box-toes. You draw fifty dollars for your work-and you earned it! "Why-thafs a lot more than 1 expected! To say nothing of the horse and saddle-I certamly do tLe' mind! No reason a-tall why a boy with your education educa-tion and your natural bent can't own his own outfit quick!' trousers, dooiu, - new slicker, the old man chose for Con and paid for. Caramba outfitted out-fitted himself at the same time and admired the figure he made. "Now, we'll have a couple drinks," Upperman told them. "I got business busi-ness at Vacaton and I'm riding the train tonight. I hope you boys get out of town with something in your pockets and nothing through your hides." In the great barroom of the Drovers' Drov-ers' Saloon were cowboys from four or five herds besides the 20 Bar. j freighters and merchants and buyers and other men of less apparent occupations. oc-cupations. The red, loud buyer whom Con had seen taking the 20 Bars came in and stopped to talk with Upper-man, Upper-man, who called him Asa Brock. The two discussed future herds, but all the time Brock's restless little green eyes were wandering as if he hunted somebody. And when a tall, dark young man came into the Drovers', Drov-ers', he cut short his discussion of inquired in a meek voice, of the lookout "I want to know because 1 aim to come down on that lovely rack of chips there like a pan of milk off a top shelf." "Come after us! Come a-run-ning!" the lookout invited him. Caramba began to play. He won, lost, won again. Baldy had little better luck. Con watched until he understood something of the system by which bets were made on the deal. He risked five dollars presently pres-ently and won, lost his winning on another turn, won three times. Then he missed Caramba. "Him?" Baldy said. "Oh he went off towards the front door with a fellow. Don't bother. He'll be back." But when twenty minutes had gone without sign of Caramba, Con lost interest in the game. He was more than forty dollars ahead. "I'm going to hunt up that bronco," bron-co," he told Baldy. "Caramba." "Oh! Going to quit on us, huh?" That nignt, "." --bedded --bedded down on the flat, Con lis tened at the fire. The veterans off-guard off-guard were talking of the spree they fntended to have with the trips W -'well, you bright young fellows want to watch out for Dynamite Downed" Buzz Upperman warned got another think coming, erdwason-move SgUT sa?fncho the sor.1 adhudoattheshtp- rbuHetof westward,, 4btrS.fCaRrIaambfeaegtreed. he3L as a copperhead! All they : fom aV cowboy is aU he . conditions. -"Hurry back, Upperman," he said with a quick, mechanical grin. Con had been looking at the tall man. He noticed his neatness and the smooth, deliberate way he had of moving. He watched Brock waddle wad-dle up to him, slap him on the shoulder shoul-der and wave toward the bar. The young man smiled very slightly and shook his head. "Young fellow name' Nevil Lowe, from the Territory," Upperman said. "His first time here. Drove up a liT herd of awful good steers. But mostly, he has got horses, some of the finest I laid eyes on in a long, long time. Brock wants the whole layout, but this Lowe knows prices. He told Brock flat that he ain't driving driv-ing for the benefit of sharpshooting buyers. He gets a decent price or he drives on." "He looks like a man who can take care of himself," Con sad approvingly. ap-provingly. "Reckon Brock will pay a fair price, as he paid you what you 3S"Cases ain't the same. I was holding the downhill drag on Sl'ck the lookout said unpleasantly. ia some of our money and right away you want to pull out winner." Baldy looked uneasily from Con to the lookout. Con, facing the grizzled griz-zled man, drew a long, slow breath. "Yes, I'm quitting." he told the lookout flatly, meeting the narrow, dark eves levelly. "For now, anyway. any-way. I know it's the custom for cowboys to quit you losers, but is it a downright rule?" A big, bearish cowman who had i been losing heavily threw back his head and laughed roaringly. "Don't ruin your own game. It's I the likes of us, not the hocmen, that you live off of. But that's because! we're easy-going. Not because we j have to be crowded. In fact, when we're crowded too far, we ain't . easv-going . . . Says Keith Yoker- who's got most of h:s growth-and all his teeth . . ." "Rafter Y Yoker," Baldy whispered. whis-pered. "Richer'n Croesus. Hell on stripedy wheels in any kind of fight. And Nobby knows it!" (TO BE COXTiyi tD) |