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Show l1 I 7 BcutneA Qictian Sesual o, By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE svNorsis Jim Cfitfor. forest rnnj;or, hnii ben my.t;rl(jnsly kiilcrl In the pursuit of his duties. (jtniion Jin-rk. his best fi'U'nd. tiiki-s ovt-r Coti'-r's Jub hojtnt; U) av-nye hl.s murfl'ir. "Uwl" Cnuk. furcHt suix-r-Jfiti-riflr-nt, warns fircck th;it tiie TilUun bru'.hfts, moimt.'iln moonshinei 8, are ajt to ive him troubh;. Il-fory If-nvlng for his innuiit.'iln station. IWfcW buys an outfit out-fit and di-cldi-s to attond the public dance run by the Tillsons In I.one Troe. At tiie danre i'.rcck dnncs with Louise Temple, pretty "cowgirl" for whom he takes a liklnc. Unknown to Breck, she Is bein? courted by Art Tlllson. youngest of the three Tlllson brothers. Angered by J. reek's attentions to the (?lrl, he picks a fiht which enils Indecisively when someone some-one sets lire to the hall. Breck and his chief set out for the mountain station. Halfway, they are met by Sierra Slim, moss-back mountaineer who Is also In the forest service. Around the campflre that nlnht, Jireck learns from Sierra that trackliu; down Jim Cotter's murderer must be done cautiously and by devious methods. Cook. Ilreck and Sierra continue con-tinue their ascent of the mountains. Ktipplru: to rest, they sliiht the Tillsons, returning to their hideaway. Next day. Cook sends Breck and Sierra In one direction di-rection to repair the telephone line, while he lakes another. Over the campfire at nlnht Sierra tells Breck more about Louise Temple. CHAPTER VI Continued 5 "You'd say Louy belongs here," Sierra explained, "because you found her here. That kid's a thoroughbred. thor-oughbred. Let me tell you. There's been four generations of Temples grazing their stuff on Temple Meadow. Mead-ow. Then along came a girl and the old man tried to make her over had explained, spending the winter there alone, and each summer came onto this even more lonely lookout post. CHAPTER VII There had been some thunder during dur-ing the niyht, and as Breck threw back his tarp at dawn, a storm threatened south over the country into which he was to move. A cloud curled through the morning sky like a black fist with forearm resting on the eastern summit. It expanded quickly. Pink flashes played on the upper side. By the time he had wrangled up his animals and was ready to pack, that one cloud covered cov-ered the whole range. "Sharpen up your axes and Inspect In-spect your tools first thing," Cook advised him. "There's fire up yonder, yon-der, though this is pretty early for lightning to strike us." Breck's start was later than he had hoped. Ascent was slow. At noon he ate in his saddle, pushed on until he crossed the divide, and about three o'clock halted to scan the new country. It was not an inviting area. From this view it was apparently impassable, impass-able, except afoot, where a man must go over the cliffs on ropes and trust to luck. Yet the Tillsons used it, and they were not walking men. Breck unfolded his contour map, he found a white patch of Goofs tarpaulin. Nearby was one small hoofprint. He followed on. Black night came before he passed a growth of yearling year-ling pine and glimpsed ahead the open space of a meadow. He dismounted, dis-mounted, tied Kit and continued on afoot. Where trees ended and grass began, something sharp struck his arm. He leaped back, gun drawn, then realized it was the barbed wire of a fence. That meant a pasture and perhaps a cabin. He was rain-soaked; the wind now was close to freezing. Deciding De-ciding to leave his horse hidden in the trees, he moved on alone. Half an hour of feeling along the fence brought him to a corral. Beyond loomed a small log house. It was deserted; even from where he stopped he could make out the door swinging on a loose hinge. Yet he approached with gun ready and stood near the casement before peering in. When he struck a match the room showed wet and empty. In the flash of light he looked into all corners, then to the ceiling. Small logs placed across the beams formed a loft that dripped with water wa-ter from a poor roof. The whole place was flooded, but offered shelter shel-ter from the wind, and there was an Iron stove at the further end. Suddenly he paused in his search. Something in the wind? Its moaning This one spoke abruptly. "He ain't here yet." Reply came in a low mutter from beyond the doorway. "We can wait Let's get in out of the rain." Breck knew this last was Jud TU1-son. TU1-son. Cn.VPTER VIII The horses thumped on again. Presently there sounded the creak of a corral gate being opened and closed. Then both men returned to the cabin. "Hell of a night" one began. "He ort to be here. Ain't no " "Shut up your grumbling and rustle rus-tle some wood!" This was Jud again. The other tramped out. The cabin was as quiet and dark as if deserted. Breck peered through the crack between be-tween loft poles, knowing he was within a yard or two of the man down there, yet could see nothing. Clumping of boots returned. Wood crashed down. Stove lids rattled. A match flared and soon after that the room was flooded In red light, for the men left a lid off and warmed their hands over the open flame. In a moment, when they took oft their hats, hanging them to dry on pegs behind the stove, Breck had his first full look at Hep. His head was bent a little, but his face was clearly revealed In the firelight. Dark hair fell In strings Jjj MMiM Into a boy. uian t worn, at au. Louy went to school and got ideas about paintin' pictures and then told Tom she was clearin' out, goin' to the city and learn more. She did too, went plumb to New York studyin'. I seen some of her pictures pic-tures and they're pretty, sure enough. "Then two years ago her old man got throwed and is crippled for the rest of his days. Did Louy keep up her fight with him? Not anyl She ain't scrappin' a fellow when he's down. That's why she's back here, ridin' range the way Tom has always al-ways wanted her to ride. But the poor kid! God, I know she's given up everything!" Breck sat with thoughts flashing back to reconstruct their meeting at the dance. Again he heard Louise say, "I hope we Rubes haven't disappointed dis-appointed you." Now he began to realize her meaning. He had taken too much for granted that night. 1 "Will she be up here?" he asked. L ''Yep; with the drive on the fifteenth." fif-teenth." Sierra's gaze speculated upon him for some time. Suddenly he said, "You know, you ought to marry that girl! Yes, sir, you two would mate right well." Breck laughed. Sierra's putting it like that gave him a queer start over a flat, narrow forehead. He had the same thin features as the other brothers, yet weaker than theirs, with a loose, puffed-out mouth. Both men stood through a time of silence. Hep spoke first, sullenly. "He ortn't keep us waitin' like this!" Jud said nothing. "Maybe he ain't goin' to come at all," Hep persisted. "I told him to," Jud answered. "Yeah, but Art's gettin' damned independent these days. He needs a good handlin'." "Whatever Art's getting Is none of your business," Jud said evenly. "And if any handling is to be done, I'll do It. See?" Hep's gaze shifted before his brother's. His loose lips opened, closed. He glowered as he rolled a cigarette. Rain leaked down upon Breck's back, trickled along his sides and fell through the logs where he lay. Not much of the stove's heat came up to him. His outstretched arms grew numb. He was certain that more than an hour passed. Jud and Hep smoked, stamped their feet, said nothing, until un-til abruptly Jud threw down his cigarette. cig-arette. "Cover the stove!" The lid slipped over the hole. Instantly In-stantly the room was dark. Breck heard the men move outside and took advantage of that to shift bis body. Soon a low whistle came from the distance. Jud spoke from close beyond the door. "All right, Art We're here." He and Hep returned, followed in a moment by the brother who pushed back the stove lid as they had done, swung the rain from his hat and hung it on a peg. "Well," Jud asked at once, "did you?" "I stopped him yes." "What do you mean 'stopped him'?" "Just what I say. I turned him from Sulphur. His packs broke loose and God knows where they led him." "You dam' fool!" Hep cut in. 'You didn't get him?" Breck saw Art's young face, red above the stove, harden in scornful lines. "I ain't shootin' in the back," he sneered. "Like you do!" (TO BE CONTINUED) They reached the end of their line at Kern River. "What about Art Tillson, Slim?" "That's a fact. She favors him some." "Can you tell me why?" "God knows. Unless she thinks she can help him. Art's in the wrong corral." From what Breck had seen he considered young Tillson the same sort as his two brothers. He said so. "You haven't studied 'em enough." Sierra asserted. "Ain't none of them three alike. Jud, he's a fightin" man and don't claim to be nothin" else. I can't help but admire that sort Hep, he's the skunk. Sneakin', low-down in every way. Art's just a kid, and if he had a chance he'd make a good straight cowman. He don't know it himself. Right now he struts around and feels important as part of the Tillson Till-son gang, but there's something under un-der all that. Look at his eyes, close, next time you come together." For an hour Breck lay back on his saddle, while Sierra Slim, talking talk-ing on, looked deep into the lives of mountain folk and saw there traits reading the lines that denoted tne meadows and canyons. At Sulphur Creek was a blank patch marked "Unsurveyed." He thrust the map impatiently into his pocket. Time was too short today to-day for a ride very far down, but then, gauging with his eyes, he picked up a transverse ridge that left the bank of Sulphur Canyon a short distance below its head, and turning south dropped toward Rock House. It looked like an easy route. He could explore a little of the country coun-try down there, then follow the ridge back to his main trail. Goof objected. Breck took a loop of the lead rope around his saddle horn and snaked him. Soon they were sliding from the summit on a long swale of loose rock. Upon reaching the canyon he entered abruptly into twilight. Presently he came to a small, yellow-crusted pooL A little further on a waterfall blocked the canyon bottom, forcing him to dismount and lead his train to the next level. When he mounted again, Goof suddenly threw up his head and faced the opposite bank, ears pointing. Breck naa cnangea. tie stood motionless in the dark. Then the sound came again. Hoofs thumped on the soggy sog-gy earth. He judged two animals. It might be his packs coming toward the meadow. But then above the splash of rain about the cabin, he heard a man's muttering. Instinct carried him a step closer to the door, away from the confining walls. Then he halted. The thud of approach outside out-side was too near. Another muffled voice joined the first. Though the tones were indistinct, he could guess the owners. This was Tillson country. That shot awhile ago told plainly enough what had brought them out tonight He glanced to the loft and reached up instantly as a dim shape moved out there in the dark. Tumult of the storm covered the noise as he sprang, caught one log, and drew himself across the others that formed a crude floor. Face down to the cracks, he lay for a breathless breath-less moment while the thud of horses' hoofs ended and a man came in below. that they themselves might not understand. un-derstand. Tney reached the end of their line at Kern River, and swinging back, turned toward headquarters station by way of Sulphur Creek. Most of the return line was badly down, delaying them past the allot-ed allot-ed week. It was the twelfth of June when they rode into headquarters. "Breck," Cook said over the table that night, "you can figure on moving mov-ing to Rock House day after tomorrow. tomor-row. That's the fourteenth, just one night ahead of the cattle drive. Sierra Si-erra stays on patrol here. Tomorrow Tomor-row the Kern Peek lookout will be coming in. You and Slim will pack him to the top." It was a lean-bodied man with iron gray hair that rode into headquarters head-quarters the next morning astride a government mule and leading two packs. "Hello, Donny!" Cook hc.iled him, then introduced him to Breck. "This is Donaldson, the man who spots fires for you to fight. You'll cuss him out plenty before the season ends! " Donaldson swung from his mule. Breck looked into eyes as cold and keen as steel bullet points. The man had a hermit's brown expressionless expres-sionless face, and his voice was thin from long disuse. "Howdy," was his oiiiv remark. iie prospected on the desert, Cook let himself back to the ground. He stood tense, watching across the hollow of his saddle. Nothing showed in the pines. Only a far-off far-off roar broke the silence. It sounded sound-ed like another waterfall, yet it grew louder, approaching from above. Abruptly a new note joined in; a wail that rose and diminished. Black clouds resting on the canyon top began to flow like a river down between the walls. The roar increased, in-creased, though muffled still, as if all the winds of the heavens were penned behind great doors that were about to be swung wide. Again Breck raised himself to his stirrup. The sharp crack that sounded sound-ed instantly might have been the first charge of thunder, save for the whine past his head. He dodged. The lead rope burned through his hand as Goof reared. Custer lunged with him. They broke away together, togeth-er, bucking at their packs as they raced down the canyon. Kit showed his mountain breeding. He lowered his head and stood motionless mo-tionless as Breck leveled his gun over the saddle and aimed at a rock where he had caught a flash of fire. But that first shot was not repeated. Their trail was distinct for half a mile, but soon rain broke in spouts and after that he rode by chance, hoping to find the mules in a meadow or halted w.ih lead ropes tangled in down timber. He saw nothing I until, having descended to a shelf. |