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Show the i U 11 desert k L (Cj KAY ': iWVy ii CLEAVED if m: IMl f fOPYRIOKT by POUBLEPAY DORAN Cq INC. UW.USERVICE have tola me anything tTiTTE could have helped mailers. Hut I did not know it then, and I was sorely disappointed. disap-pointed. For those sudden tears In her eyes, and her voice when she had said, "bless your heart," bad convinced con-vinced me that there was sincerity behind them, and honesty, and pood. In the black days that followed, when all of us were living in the dark shadows of doubts, and confusions, confu-sions, and fears and suspicions, I was thankful, time and again, for those certainties, for that one fleeting but sure insight into Danny's soul. The morning of the third was biting bit-ing hot, with that stinging, piercing beat that we have, when we have heat at all, In this high altitude. The sixty-mile trip across the deserts to Telko, on a day like this, would be exactly the same as a sixty-mile trip through an oven at the right beat for a roast of beef. Nevertheless, before seven o'clock that morning, every man-jack of a puncher on the place, with all of his trimmings and trappings, including wives, squaws, papooses, children and firearms, had set off In flivvers or on I horseback, bound for the celebration, I leaving the place hole-empty, as Sam said, when he came Into my kitchen with a gallon of cream from the dairy. He pulled the stool out from under the table, perched on it, and remarked, re-marked, "I'm not going to be surprised sur-prised if we have another visitor, one of these days. The warden of the penitentiary told me that Daniel Can-neziano Can-neziano was to be released on the morning of the fourth of July." I dropped Into a chair, feeling sort of weakened from the news. "You mark my words," I said, "all these queer actions around here have something to do with that man's release. re-lease. I know what I'd do about Can-neziano, Can-neziano, if he shows up here." "Yes, I know. But he Is Danny's father, and Danny is going to marry John. After all, money is not much good unless you take It to market If I could come to a decent agreement with the fellow And if he'd take that Gaby with him. I'm dead certain that her hanging around here Isn't going to contribute any to John's and Danny's married life " "What do you mean by that, Sam?" Gaby asked the question, walking THE STORY -CTipXER 1 Snm Stanley, wealthy 1,7 of the Desert Moon ranch. In-S In-S his housekeeper, Mary Mugln. 0Ia tells the story, that his former i's twin daughters, Danielle and 7ihrUlle, are coming to the ranch to ft!, their mother berng dead and their i.Yher Daniel Canneziano. who had n the cause of Sam's divorcing hts If,, in the penitentiary. Sam has Sooted a boy, John, now grown to manhood, and a girl. Martha, twenty-T' twenty-T' chysically healthy but weak-mind-Mrs Ollie Ricker. Martha's nurse, lives with them. CHAPTER II Hubert Hand, a wan-a.V.r wan-a.V.r and Chadwick Caulield, John's Mrtlroe buddy, who Is an expert ven-friloauist, ven-friloauist, are the other members of the household. The girls arrive. CHAPTER III Mrs. Magln has an uneasy feeling that -there la a sinister motive in the twins' presence at the lnch and her suspicions are strengthened strength-ened by the girls' mysterious prowling .round the olace. John becomes en-raced en-raced to Danielle. Caufield shows a JSronounced liking for Gabrlelle CHAPTER IV Continued. '"When I go "toTneet death," 1 told Mm, "I sha'n't go on the back of a nasty-tempered bronco. Considering that everyone on the Desert Moon la, at this minute, in mortal danger of their lives, all your lighthearted jest-ting jest-ting seems pretty much out of place." I told him. then, about the packages of explosives hidden under the shelf. I had not told him about my climbing in with them ; so I was in no way prepared pre-pared for his actions, i He stopped. He dropped Wishbone's bridle. He put both his hands on his wish shewere In Jericho.- "Gaby, you mean?" j "You're darn right. She's causing all the trouble around here." "What trouble?" I asked, just for a feeler. "I don't know exactly. She keeps Danny miserable. But that isn't It, or not all of It. Don't you seem to feel trouble around here, all the time? I thought everyone did. I do, Gosh knows." "I know," I said. "1 feel It, too. I think Sam does, though he won't altogether alto-gether admit It. Just the same, John, there Isn't a thing we can put our fingers on, Is there?" "1 suppose not. Sometimes, though, when I see Danny looking as she looked when she went upstairs just now, I feel as If It would be a good thing if somebody would put their fingers around that vixen's throat." "John," I spoke sharply to him, "don't say things like that. Sou don't mean it It is wrong to say it." I was sure that he did not mean it. I was sure that only the voice of one of his rare ugly moods had spoken, and that the wicked thought had died with the wicked words. Cut, from that day to this, I have never repeated those words to a living soul. Because that was the way that Gaby was murdered : choked to death, with great brutal bruises left on her throat. CHAPTER V 1 X p 'flH tVf rt if fl K D y stomach and leaned over and burst into uproarious laughter. "Ho-ho-ho," it rolled out, seeming to fill the entire valley. "Fireworks," he gasped. "I got them for Martha. Going to surprise her on the Fourth. Sent for them months ago. Hid them up there. Ho-ho-ho! I told you to stop pussyfooting pussy-footing around, Mary. Ho-ho-ho I 'Do not look for wrong and evil, you will find them if you do'" With as much dignity as a heavy woman, with both of her legs asleep, could muster, I turned and left him. His words and his actions had certainly cer-tainly given me one decision. From this time on, I would tell Sam Stanley nothing. When I got back to the house, John was driving up the road in the sedan. He had been to Kattail -for supplies and for the mail. He tossed the mail-bag mail-bag out to me and drove around to the kitchen door to unload. There was a letter for Gaby, postmarked France. About a month before this, Gaby had received another letter that was a duplicate of this one; the same gray paper, the same sprawling handwriting. handwrit-ing. Instead of taking it indifferently, aa she did other letters, and reading It wherever she happened to be, she had snatched it out of my band and had run off to her room. All that evening she had seemed to be preoccupied, preoc-cupied, and worried. Sending only two letters in close to two months, it j seemed to me that whoever had written writ-ten them did not write unless he or she had something of importance to say. I was still" puzzling over it, when Gaby came Into the room. Sure enough, she snatched It out of my hands, just as she had done with ihn l-i i.u j -...,! nn An Insight That evening, the second of July, the two girls came down, late, together. to-gether. Danny was paler than usual, and her face had a' drawn, hurt look, which she explained by saying that she had a severe headache. Gaby was gayer than gay. I kept watching her, trying to catch her face in repose, to see if any trace remained of that dreadful expression ex-pression I had seen in the afternoon. Her face, nor one bit of her, was in repose for a minute from the time she came downstairs until she went upstairs again, after twelve o'clock that night. She put "Ln Palonia" on the phonograph, phon-ograph, and did a Spanish dance, clicking her heels and snapping her fingers until they sounded like firecrackers. fire-crackers. She did an Egyption dance, slinking about, and contortloning. It wasn't decent. Mrs. Ricker was doing some tatting. As I watched her, I decided that, ears or no ears, she was not the woman I had heard talking, that afternoon, up in the cabin. Hubert Hand had said to that woman that she had attempted attempt-ed murder. She could not have been Mrs. Ricker; not our Mra Ricker, the thin, silent woman who had lived so decently with us for so long. Those tight, wrinkled lips had never said, "I would kill her, and you too." John had never said I shivered. Wicked thoughts and wicked words breed wicked actions, and I knew it then aa now. Martha came crying to Mrs. Ricker. "Gaby hurt Chad," she said. "I wish she would die. We could make her a nice funeral." Mrs. Ricker's fingers darted faster, I She Whirled Around Like a Crazy Thing. right Into the kitchen. I was all taken aback; but Sam didn't seem to be. "Eavesdroppers, my girl," he said, "hear no good of themselves. I mean that I don't think any girl who wanted want-ed to act right would treat her sister's sis-ter's betrothed as you treat John." "You," she said, very slowly, to make insult baste each word, "are a d d old fool, Sam Stanley." I shook in my shoes. I had not dreamed that there was a living hu- the other letter, and ran straight upstairs up-stairs with it. When John and Danny came In, a Jew minutes later, I went upstairs. Habit stopped me at Gaby's door for a minute, with my ear to the keyhole. Faintly, sounds don't come plainly through our thick doors, I beard the Portable typewriter that she brought Willi her when she came to the ranch, click, clicking away. I was tuckered and tired. So, after telephoning some instructions to the kitchen, I took plenty of time to tidy Myself up. I dawdled in my bath, and 1 cut my corns, and rubbed hair tonic Into my scalp. But, when on my way downstairs again, I stopped for a sec-ond sec-ond nt Gaby's door, the typewriter was stil going. There was nothing to be n,ado out of it, so -t went along. It W!s fortunate that i did, because, be-fore be-fore I had reached the top of the stairway, Gaby's door flung open and s,)e called to me, with something in voice that made me shake In my shoes. I turned and looked at her. Her fa! wore au expression that was not human; an expression that would llave made any decent woman do as j 1 R and turn' her eyes quickly away. "Tell Danny to come up here," she said. 1 hurried off downstairs, and de-llved de-llved the message to Danny who ,vs will) John in the living room. "What's the matter, Mary?" John inHsticned, when Danny had gone upstairs. up-stairs. "You look as if ..you had seen a ghost." "l think," 1 answered, "that I have he ghost of Sin." -''IKotie that girl." he ' said. '"I lura. ivitt. o Lii.fj-M back - and forth. pannyspoke, from the davenport. "You shouldn't talk like that, Martha, dear. It is wrong." Her voice sounded as if It ached. She looked, lying in a huddle over there, as miserable as I felt. I was drawn to her. I went and sat beside her. , "Could I do anything for your headache?" head-ache?" I asked. "Get you some aspirin, aspir-in, maybe." "No, think you, Mary." There was so much gratitude in her big dark eyes for nothing but common decency on my part, that I felt downright ashamed of myself. "Danny," 1 said, straight out, nevei caring much about mincing words, 1 know that something Is troubling you. Why don't you tell John, or Sam, or even me about it? Just tell us the truth. We'd all go far to help you, If we could." tm Her eyes filled with tenrs. E ess your heart, Mary," she said. Bless all of your hearts. You are all so good, here" I was enough annoyed with -lohn for coming up right then, to have slapped him. I answered bis question for Danny. "There is plenty you could do for her" I said. "Von could shut OIL that screeching radio, for one thing." Danny wouldn't hear to John's stopping stop-ping ti,e racket. Every one was h:.y- n such a good lime. Bed was the place for her. She couldn't hear an noise in her room, with the door shut. And olT she went. I know now that she would n.t man being who wouiu uure -ax mui.. in that tone of voice, to Sam. Ha Stood up. He put his bands on her shoulders, gently, though, and turned her around. "You axe a bad, wayward girl," he said. "March out of here, now, nnd get your manners mended before I see you again." He sobered even her, for a minute. She walked to the door, without another an-other word. There, she whirled around like a crazy thing, and I declare de-clare to goodness, I don't know what she said. It was rhe sort of talking I had never heard In my life; my ears were not enough accustomed to the words to take in their meanings. But one thing that she kept screaming, scream-ing, screaming so loudly that she could be heard all over the place, was that Sam had threatened her once too often. Sam stood there, paralyzed, I think, ns I was, for perhaps a couple of minutes, before he turned and walked off, into tho backyard. Hubert Hand came rushing in. Gaby threw her arms around his neck, and kept on with the screaming and sobbing. sob-bing. "liad came in through the pan trv." Hubert Hand U-d Gaby dining room, and through it into i:ie living room. ivi "What in Cod's nnme horr''"' Chad said to me. Clia.l," I said, n:!hr!.-l!e Cm ":''-nno ":''-nno has lost l.or tv.ind. She is ' Ills fai-0 went white as Inrd. ' I don't believe it." "Either that." I said, "or ehe s.-.e is the wicked'-'st. the" - " ) (To B8 Continued) |