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Show sgPljSpM By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM g) EUGENE CUNNINGHAM W. N. U. R.ELEAS E V THE STORY SO FAR: Forced to run from the taw to ave bis life, Con Cameron Cam-eron is anxious to prove his honesty. Arrested as a murder and robbery suspect sus-pect because of bil association with the notorious Kanlers, he was in danger of being banged as "Comanche Linn," tn spite ol the fact that be had recently saved the life of the marshal, Nevil Lowe. He escaped from Jail with Jeff Allmon and Joined Dud Paiamore' gang, but broke with Paramoie when Dud attempted to kidnap Lowe's sister, Janet. He saved Janet and later foiled Dud'i attempt to rob the bank at Tivan. When be founi Jeff shot by Dud. be left a note telling the story. SUU a fugitive, but nearer the law. Con Is going with bis pal, Caramba Vear, to work for Topeka Tenison. owner of the Broken Wheel, the most powerful ranch In that part of the country. At Caramba's suggestion Con Is calling himself "Twenty Johnson." John-son." They are, meanwhile, acting as detectives for a rancher named Wiley, who Is a member of an association organized or-ganized to break np a band of cattle rusUers. Tenison Is a member of the association. So Is Nevil Lowe. While they are talking to Tenison they meet Janet Lowe, who recognizes Con but says nothing. She calls Tenison "Uncle Peek." On the way to Tenison's ranch they are stopped by Monk Irby, who Is out to get Con for killing a -nan named Oxweld, though Con only shot Oxweld In self defense. It's Con or Irby this time, and Con knocks blm out but doesn't kill him. Now continue with the story. Then he felt a terrific blow upon his left breast. long arroyo which the road paralleled. paral-leled. "You'll be all right," he told her. "You can sit down and take it easy in the arroyo. They'll never guess you're here." He jumped to scramble up again. The shooting was a steady rattle, now. There were yells, too. Caramba, Ca-ramba, he could tell from the flashes, was on the ground. "Ride over him!" someone yelled savagely. "Come on!" Con did not mount. He could see the bulk of Megeath's men and, this time, he had no slightest compunction compunc-tion about shooting at riders instead in-stead of horses. He shot his carbine of his wounds, while Caramba was telling the cook about their fight. The pounding of a triangle waked Con and when he moved in the bunk his stiffened side twinged painfully. pain-fully. He sat up and faced Caramba, Caram-ba, who was examining his own burns and yawning. They went out to a long trough behind the bunk-house bunk-house and Con washed his side and rebandaged the long, shallow gash. "Now, if somebody'll bring on about half a cow," he said; "I'll be ready to take care of it." They found the long bunkhouse table set. Gale Goree sat at the head of it and he grinned at them. "Well, how's the young gladia- CHAPTER XIII Con went quickly to the still figure, fig-ure, stopped and unbuckled Irby's belt, then stopped to jerk off his boots. Caramba came grinning to help. Between them, with Con beginning be-ginning to laugh, they got him into his saddle, pantsless, "facing south," as Caramba put it chokingly, and barefooted. "ParlrnffA nt trash fnr Glnnmv Me- geath," the printed legend ran, with the Broken Wheel brand for signature. signa-ture. He went abruptly over to explore Irby's alforjas. One of the leather ' saddle pockets held a pint of whisky, a can of matches, some bacon and a blackened length of telegraph wire with short stick for handle the rustler's rus-tler's flexible "iron" for altering brands. In the other alforja was an old shirt, some coffee, cartridges, and a piece of dirty, greasy cloth at which Con stared frowningly before he held it up for Caramba to see. "Mira! Looky! Now, where'd the rat get this motto he's been using for a gun-rag? God Bless Our Home . . . From the looks of the corners, he jerked it off some wall. Bad luck. Monk! Like tearing up a Bible for cigarette papers." They started the horse along the trail to the boulders. It went steadily, steadi-ly, as if knowing the way. Then they had a drink apiece, and another, an-other, and smoked quietly. The sun was dropping behind the western ridge and all the land was clear in a light that had a tinge of blackness in it. It was .very still. "Wonder when Topeka and the girl, will come out," Caramba drawled as they swung into their saddles. "Not likely they'll catch up with us, them in a buckboard, even if we have killed plenty time awful dead." They went at the walk along the dim ranch road. Caramba hummed and sang snatches of a dozen songs. Con looked to right and left, content con-tent to go slowly and watch the range. Abruptly, both turned to listen. lis-ten. "For dios! Seems your guess was poor," Con said, as behind them hoofbeats pounded. "The old man Say! If he's really coming, he's rolling roll-ing up the dust!" The hoofbeats now blended with the dry whirring of wheels and thundered thun-dered closer. And as they made out the mass of horses and buckboard, Topeka Tenison's voice lifted, calling call-ing them. "What's the hurry?" Con answered, an-swered, jumping Pancho into a lope and leaning to the buckboard as it came up to him. "Megeath!" Tenison told him harshly. "He's up to something. We left town after you-alL Just before be-fore sundown Janet looked back. Megeath Me-geath and a bunch is coming hellbent hell-bent Can't be too much behind." Mechanically, Con looked at Janet's Jan-et's face, a white blur in the dark. He wondered if she understood what Topeka was making so plain to him; that Gloomy Megeath was on her trail, not Tenison's. He put out a hand and it touched her arm. A thought came. He grinned one-sidedly and wondered how she would receive it Before he could speak, Caramba voice it from beside Tenison: Ten-ison: "Leave the girl here! You go on with the buckboard, lickety-brindle! We'll put her off safe to one side. She'll be out of sight We'll wawa with Gloomy and his outfit a spell. Even if they stampede around us, they'll naturally figure that she's still with you. They'll boil right after you. When you hit the house, send us out some of your best firesnort-ers." firesnort-ers." "But " Janet began gaspingly. "But surely" "It's the best way!" Con assured her. face almost against hers. Janet stood and stepped into the stirrup that Con cleared for her, then swung up to sit behind him, arms about his waist Tenison lashed the team off. and Caramba. facing the rear, called that he could hear the Megeath men. x Con rode to the side, toward the CLiiyiy Willi a ianiug uic oiu"6 line of the flashes that answered Caramba. Ca-ramba. Then he reloaded quickly and turned to the quiet sorrel. In the saddle he yelled ferociously. He sent Pancho charging up the trail before Caramba could get on his horse. The thundering drum of hoofbeats paced him on the left He spurred Pancho, and the stocky horse lengthened his stride and ran like a racer. He passed the leading horses of Megeath's party and rode for two or three minutes with face on his shoulder, estimating distance. Then he pulled in. What the Megeath side thought he could only guess at. He could see that under fire from front and rear they broke and ran. Caramba had cut away from the trail as soon as he found himself with an empty Winchester. He joined Con, now drawing rein with a long, sighing whistle. "And that's that, huh?" he said. "I have got some new airholes in my Stetson and if ary one of that crowd could shoot, I would have more than a crease on the left hip and a stripe on my spareribs. You get hurt?" "Never touched me! But I wouldn't be surprised if my shirt was fixed up for a hot summer, too. But ne' mind! I'm going to see if I can catch up with Topeka. You hightail back and ride herd on Janet, Jan-et, will you?" Over the rim ol the arroyo he could see flashes. They were answered an-swered by flashes from three or four points above. Con yelled like ten and charged the besiegers, waving his carbine Indian fashion. But it was the attacking party which had the advantage, now. They were on the ground. Con in movement His hat was thumped from his head. A slug blanced off his saddle-fork and cut overalls and skin on his right thigh. Then he felt a terrific blow upon his left breast, with stinging pain, and gasped for breath. The ground seemed to rise and take him from the saddle. He sprawled, gagging. gag-ging. A tiny voice was calling, but it was too far away to be understood. under-stood. When he tried to answer, his tongue was dead.- The voice became louder. Someone Some-one was calling his name; asking how he was and where he was. He could breathe more freely; hear Caramba Ca-ramba and Tenison talking, then Janet's anxious voice. Con made mumbling noises when they lifted him. His left side seemed aflame, now that numbness was going. go-ing. "Left side," he muttered. "Knocked me over." He got to his feet and staggered against Pancho. Then Janet's arm went around him as he held to the saddle horn. Caramba brought a clean shirt, torn into strips. They managed a wadded bandage, then Con got painfully pain-fully into the saddle. Then Tenison called impatiently and Caramba rode over to Con. They trailed the buckboard. Tenison drove fast to the Broken Wheel house. There was a light in the long bunkhouse and a yell brought out the tall, grim Goree and two cowboys. "Gloomy Megeath and some trash chased us out of town," Tenison told him briefly. "These two men I hired 'em today stood off Gloomy and got skinned up some. Roust out four-five of the boys and ride down the arroyo toward the line. See if any of that gang's on the ground. But don't go past the rocks Gale." Con and Caramba watched the party go fast and eagerly off. Then Topeka Tenison showed them bunks and they crawled wearily into bed. Con fell asleep, in spite of the sting rors.' nam neii, us missing out. on a squabble that was right on our step-stone." step-stone." They finished breakfast and as they ate Goree set the cowboys to jobs for the. day. Con listened and watched appreciatively. Goree marshaled mar-shaled his men like a general, with quick, sure orders that showed how he held every detail of the Broken Wheel work in mind. Con found that his ugly gash and the weal across his right thigh hardly hard-ly slowed him in the dusty confusion confu-sion of the round corral. On the wise Pancho, he forefooted his first colt and dragged it to the wrestlers. Goree watched down his nose, lids sagging, apparently half-asleep where he leaned against the logs. But when Con had roped his fifth, surer and faster with the practice, the lanky Texan nodded slightly and went off to other affairs. As Con went after his sixth colt, he saw the heads of Topeka Tenison Teni-son and Janet above the corral top. He grinned faintly at sight of them. There were many things about the business of a working ranch which he had yet to learn, mostly dull, practical details connected with the business of profitably growing steaks and roasts on the hoof. Goree knew these things; Tenison, of course, knew even more, or knew the business busi-ness more completely. But the spectacular spec-tacular part of a cowboy's work, the riding and roping, Con could do more expertly than most range-bred cowboys. cow-boys. For around the stockyards he had done more roping, ridden "more dangerous horses, than the average working cowboy. So he looped the colt deftly and hummed to himself. He was anxious to show his ability because of the Broken Wheel's name for hard efficiency. If Perch were something unusual with a rope and he could mtch him, that would be a good start as a Wheeler. Too, it might make Goree and Tenison less critical of what he lacked in general knowledge of range business. So he ignored twinges of pain from his side and concentrated on making every ev-ery catch perfect As the morning wore on, the branding crew forgot to look critically criti-cally at his work. Their faces grew strained and tired. Con knew that he had never done better roping. At last the sixty-fourth colt was wearing wear-ing the odd Broken Wheel brand and Con by way of bravado spun out a "county loop" that enclosed him, crooked a leg around his saddle horn, and put on his most respectful respect-ful expression for Goree. "If Perch or somebody will just show me a few of the fine points about roping," he said, "I'll try to earn my way." "I reckon you done all right," Goree admitted. "All right?" one of the branders grunted. "Hell! You never run the iron on colts that fast on the Wheel since it had an axle! Perch never seen the day he could spin the twine with this boy, Gale. He had us yelling yell-ing 'calf rope!' a time or two." "He'll maybe make a hand, yet," Goree said, grinning. "This is just short-grass country, you know. You boys better eat. We never stopped you, account it's the first good morning's morn-ing's work any of you done in a month of Sundays. Then I want you, Skeet, to take Twenty and Caramba over to Red Mesa. Johnny Dutch is by hisself. That'll be the last horses you bring in." He turned away, then turned back: "Keep your eyes peeled. That no-account no-account Helligo Canyon outfit might just accidental bulge over toward the Mesa. With four of you, you ought to do. But take aplenty shells!" (TO BE COXT1XUED) |
