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Show . It A Bghm&i QictiMt Serial t chcw-wNUw,c By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE s "You see," Louise continued, "I understand many things in these mountains too many. I understand the nesters' position, and Art Till-son's, Till-son's, and yours." In sudden impulse, her hand clasped his, warm, throbbing. "Gordon! Don't you see? Cotter lost his life and gained nothing; threw it away on a chance. It's terrible, all of it. Something will happen, I know. But you, you must not be the one to pay heedlessly. Won't you consider it like that for your own sake?" Swept by the girl's fervor Breck drew her madly into the circle of his arms. "And for yours?" he asked, holding her close. "Louise!" She yielded only for an instant as he kissed her. Then she held her face away while her eyes searched deep into his. "I cannot answer saw the fineness of her attempt and could yield to it until his plan opened. Upon entering the room Cook drew a packet of letters from his saddle bag. Breck carried them to his bunk and stretched himself full length. Muscles were beginning to stiffen. Breck unwrapped his letters, seeing see-ing at once the postmarks were from one to three weeks old. His correspondence was not large, as his plan of coming to the mountains was known only to a few persons. Here was business mostly; though one envelope among the lot had never seen an office desk. It had cream paper inside, and even through the accumulated smell of leather and mules, gave off a certain cer-tain fragrance. Breck had reason to recall that "Mud's up," said Slim, pouring a cup of coffee. Breck left his bunk and joined the two men around a big black pot on the table. "So the nesters threw you down, did they?'? Sierra began at once. "And Art Tillson was riding their country before the fire. Ain't hard to read that sign. A pack of bug-juice bug-juice was about due to go out of these lulls. Tillson wanted to keep us too busy to notice it." "This was a lightning fire," Breck argued. "No one set it to help the Tillsons." Sierra shrugged. "Hand of God on their side then!" "I think Slim has the straight of it," Cook put in. "This particular fire may have just happened, but the Tillson crowd are due to make a shipment and might have used it. With the dawn they rode north together. 1 APTER XV Continued 14 : and Breck finished roast ll()m the can, had chocolate ir dessert, then cups of J)3eyond their shelter the rain (l soft rustling through the ien drifted on. Clouds part-i'-itars came out. Breck looked "Aatch. Two o'clock. Dawn ;-ireak in another hour. He r-ive her then and go down to' 3-violes. ;vin did Cook call your camp?" :iIi.d, leading their talk to the st ;-it the middle of the after-tt;:3e after-tt;:3e and Slim were to start, y would be a day on the ,'ie Kern Peak can head them 7- that it's over." Breck con-"Didn't con-"Didn't Cook think I had l';m the Potholers?" Jidn't say." Louise stirred re and hunched herself clos- pushed their plates from roll and sat next to her. (." he asked, "can you tell t I'm thinking about now?" ps began a smile, parted, i'J Then she answered with a J ike of her head. - . I'm thinking of the Pot-lad Pot-lad of what kept the nesters J fining into this fire. It will lreak in another hour and I down there. You're going Temple Meadow, I suppose? try to get Cook on the line 1 him know about this fire? 1 . I'll call later." voided his request. "Why ) going to the Potholes?" 'jfraid that's asking my busi- " U't it?" Sj I meant it that way. But jy; my mistake. I somehow we had reached a point ve could talk openly." Udropped his hand upon both tl resting in her lap. "I was ouise. Forgive it. I'm go- i;j..ie Potholes to prove a sus- Ith her eyes upon the coals, '!d, "You think the nesters "dhis fire?" .jot certain. I do know some-j" some-j" ;e them from helping on it." Tillsons?" act. nodded. turned to him. "I can , p;: about this fire, exactly. ,je-rg started it." ac-';ourse. Lightning always rds:'em!" , rue this time." seem to know. How?" ies.T hesitated. She released ar.ils. "We're talking openly? -ds ikes. No misunderstanding, mint Art Tillson came to our j .ay before yesterday. That , J!ore the fire started. He J 'ill night the night it start- 5,Bl I talked with him. Now do cbvi,,, h;much!" Breck bit off the ! triving to conceal a flare of He was jealous, foolish, roe')less to stem the burst of 1 the name had aroused. if they didn't start the slJe demanded. "The Tillsons efling a threat over the nest-3 nest-3 time for a cleaning and the rts down there!" ! did not speak. He sensed tension of her body, though y visible sign was of her u's'dasped tight about one knee, i iuly she lifted her face to 7 1 Gordon Breck, I know the , pr girl should never plead with j? I'm not pleading, I merely atomise me you will not go SjiS'W." " as so close at his side. He Jjl quick breath and knew she u desperation. And yet pask me to ignore a ranger's of defiance came into her s she replied. "What is a duty if it isn't to use his .ou have nothing on the nest-. nest-. li can get nothing. That isn't r;e to begin. You'll think I'm for them. I guess I am. ' some of the families, the and I don't want to see ' iven out. Give me a chance 'pirn, won't you?" gSance for what?" Dij-alk with Weller sometime." Sjg talked with him already. It's I'm through with words!" you men are stupid!" she "Stupid! All you think of is )g on a gun and going out to "Is there never another way -jithis," Breck asserted. "At Bfjot for me. I have more granger's duty here." J have you?" Si" you know the man who had o J' before me?" !'my Cotter? Yes, I knew him "iHe was killed and you've tO retaliate." lt frowned, asking, "Who said flij)ne said it But you're wear-is; wear-is; Luger. I knew that meant ! onnection." ised, Breck said nothing. fragrance, yet now, here in the odor of pines he was not sure that he liked it. His name was written with a swift impulsive dash, while the flap bore only, Irene Sutherland. He tore it open at once, and as he read, Irene came to him vividly. Tall and slender and undeniably beautiful. Black hair drawn to make three cornered her high forehead fore-head and accentuate her languorous dark eyes. It was a strange beauty, perplexing, all out of accepted standards. The note began with gossip, ignoring ig-noring the fact that they had agreed not to write. She filled a page and said nothing. But then, on the second, sec-ond, came to her real purpose. The senator was home now, grumping for a vacation. No place to go; nothing new. Driving the family frantic like a big grizzly. "Do you have grizzlies? How splendid you must look in uniform! Like the rangers at Arrowhead." Breck looked down at his blackened black-ened work clothes and grinned. And then the truth. (The High Sierras! How marvelous for the Senator's Sen-ator's vacation. And with a ranger friend to show them about. "Gordon, "Gor-don, you can't refuse! Be a dear!" He stuffed the letter into his shirt pocket. Irene had turned to him again for amusement. She would do that where any other girl would have suffered the limits of ennui first. Somehow it seemed natural in her. ' They've been in here long enough to have made up quite a batch." "Maybe so," Breck agreed. "And when they do start out " "We close in. There's a new judge down on the valley. He'll back us with convictions if we send any man before him. I've only waited for Jud to make his first play and that certainly won't be long now." Breck stirred his coffee and stared into the cup while old thoughts swept him at Cook's words. "We close in." "What about the nesters?" he asked presently. "Do we include them in the clean-up?" He was thinking of Louise and her anxiety anxi-ety for the families there. "The Potholes are a different proposition," Cook said. "I don't look for any trouble from them if we take care of the Tillsons. Like this tool business. Art may have scared them off, but if you'd had tools you could have forced them to work. Lack of equipment was our fault, not theirs." Breck shot a glance at the gray-haired gray-haired man across from him. Bitterness Bitter-ness had come into the ranger's voice when he talked of tools. "Dad," Breck asked, "just why aren't there any in the Pothole box?" "Now you done stirred something!" some-thing!" Sierra cut in. "You been to college; maybe you can figure it out. Go ahead. Dad, and tell him about the seventy-eight bucks." (TO BE CONTIIS'UED) you, not now. But I want your trust. Promise me that?" He nodded, bending his head until it touched the softness of her hair. With the dawn they rode north together, and parted on the ridge where Breck's trail struck west toward to-ward Rock House. CHAPTER XVI There were others already at his cabin, when, about mid-morning, he came into the meadow bowL He saw smoke rising from the chimney, and then with glasses, made out Sierra Slim in the doorway. Presently Pres-ently Cook appeared. They too stood with glasses at their eyes. Breck lifted one arm to them and rode on at a lope. "Howdy, pardner," Slim greeted him. Cook's first question was, "Like fire fighting, son?" Breck swung off and shook hands, glad to see them. Sierra's face was as long and melancholy as ever. After the first welcome he said nothing. noth-ing. Cook was genial and helped throw off the pack, though he did not mention more of the job until they had turned out the animals. Then walking from the corrals, he said, "Hot one for a time, wasn't it?" "Kept me busy," Breck agreed. "We were on our way, but called Kern Peak and found you had it under control. There's some mail for you in my bag. That's why we swung around here. Pack train came up from Lone Tree yesterday and goes down tomorrow, if you have anything to send out." Breck nodded. He hadn't written a letter in six weeks. "Nesters help you?" "No." They had reached the cabin door. Cook halted, one hand on the knob. "What the devil! Did they refuse?" "Their excuse was that they had no tools." "I know it," said Cook scowling. "And that's a damn shame! There's nothing at the Potholes. We're short. But they never held out on that account How do you figure?" "Tillsons, of course. Art was in the Pothole country two days ago, giving them orders." "Then you found out that it was a man-made fire?" Cook asked gravely. grave-ly. "If it was, we'll have to ride." "It wasn't," Breck asserted. "I'm sure it was from lightning. Art's business was more to keep them from giving us help." He kept back the source of his information. That would involve too much explaining. Riding alone, after leaving Louise, he had thought of what she had told him, He began to see the heart of her with its deep compassion for all mountain people; peo-ple; taking their burdens upon herself, her-self, trying to solve troubles here without more bloodshed. To him that way was impossible. But he |
