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Show s&mt$&ujN brown tOmi "The moon and the stars . . . they are bright tonight, senor." He was not startled. He did not whirl. Strangely enough, he had expected ex-pected this voice. Yet as it came to him, a warm, pulsing fire welled up within him. He turned slowly, and peered calmly through the whispering whisper-ing shadows of the porch. Her back against the wall of the house, her head held high and her hands pressed against the clapboards, stood Dolores Alvaro. Jim Puts the Cuffs On Dolores' Wrists Doane moved coolly toward her, his jaws set, his hand fumbling at a hip pocket. A foot from her, there was a glint of bright steel, and the girl found her right wrist locked In a handcuff. "I arrest you In the name of the law!" "But . . . senor . . . did not Monte tell you . . . ?" "But nothing," said Doane, fighting fight-ing back a smile "Not so many moons ago, senorita, I lay helpless in that bed where Monte lies now. Helpless, and you laughed In my face and told me I would never put these bracelets on your wrist. Well . . . they're on now." But something in his voice gave him away. Something that erased the look of hurt surprise and momentary momen-tary fear from the face turned up to him in the soft moonlight, something some-thing that-threw the girl's free hand around his neck and forced his lips down to her cheek. "You . . . you have won, senor deputy Doane." "Senor Jim, to you." His arm crushed her close and their lips met. When at last he lifted his head and stepped back, Dolores laughingly laugh-ingly held out to him her one unshackled un-shackled hand. "The other wrist, my caballerol You must not let your prisoner escape this time, you know." "Don't worry. I won't." He snapped the empty cuff about his own left wrist. He turned on his heel, gave a savagely gentle little tug at the handcuff, jerking the girlto-ward girlto-ward the porch steps. "Come on!" "But where, my Jim? Not to that jail? I would not like it there." "Jail nothing," laughed Doane. "You're on your way to the nearest near-est padre's. You'll like it there." They passed slowly down the winding, wind-ing, moonlit garden path, shoulder to shoulder. Now and then there was a gleam of steel from the tiny link that held them together. But neither seemed to notice it now; her hand lay in his, quite passive and willing and unresisting. Halfway to the gate, a voice halted them. It was Monte, at the window. "My frien's," he said, "you will need the what you call it the best man, for the wedding, yes?" They looked at Monte, at each other, and then walked through the gate. Cowman's Mortgage and Loan. The rest was found apportioned among La Rue's four men. The single rider who had turned back through the pass had met Flick's guns and surrendered. sur-rendered. He alone of those men who had fought in the pass had gone unscathed by the battle. Certain detail was attended to. The big posse Flick had commanded took to the saddle. The majority, cowmen cow-men from the upper country, chose to hit immediately back for Max-milla Max-milla City, to cover the distance while night lay cool over the dese.-l strip. Only the sheriff, Doane, and a handful of riders with the litter that bore Monte Garcia rode on for Sand Wells. Monte had been wounded wound-ed three times, twice before he left the saddle in the battle. Only the Icy nerve of the man could have kept him up so long, seemingly untouched. un-touched. He was badly hurt. Sunset flamed over the arid country coun-try as the little cavalcade rode for Sand Wells. Far west Doane could once again trace the high ranges of the Sierra Nueva, etched on a vivid sky. He remembered things that were past. He shuddered at the hell of thirst and the memory of a madman who was once himself, dragging himself toward those ranges over the desert floor. For a long while he thought of the girl who had saved him. The ranges faded. . . . Night shadow lay suddenly over the ghost land before the riders, over the fantastically formed ridges and barrens, the weird buttes and rock heaps "Doane, my frien'!" Stiff and bandaged, Doane leaned from the saddle. The whitish spot of Monte's face lay below him in the litter, and Monte seemed to smile into the darkness in that curious, poker-faced way of his. "Doane, my frien', las' night when I see her, Dolores Alvaro asks me to learn one thing from you. If possible." "Yes?" said Doane, and wondered won-dered if he could have heard rightly. "Yes, my frien'. An' it did sound to me as though you have once kissed thees young lady already," considered Monte. "Or did she say twice? I forget. But if it is true this came from the heart, then I was given orders. I was to learn an' I have learned. You see? That was why I did not wish to speak too soon." There was silence, except for the riding sounds of the little cavalcade caval-cade the soft creak of saddle leather, leath-er, the muffled thud of hoofs, the tiny jingle of riders' spurs and bridle chains. Stars were low over the black desert. Monte coughed softly. "But those orders yes!" he whispered. whis-pered. "Doane, my frien', I am to bring you to her. She will be waiting. You . . . understan'7" Doane leaned low from his saddle, sad-dle, reached down and gently punched at the shoulder of his friend. "I understand, Monte, old man. 'Sta bien!" And as he straightened up again, Monte saw that his lips were parted in a wide, almost arrogant ar-rogant smile. Doane lifted his hat and jammed it down again -at a cocky angle over one eye, with the air of a man on his way to collect a million dollars. . . . Night had conquered the earth, and a great full moon rode high in the sparkling, starlit sky. Doane came through the front door of Monte's house and stood considering consider-ing that old moon as he fumbled in his jacket for a cigarette. He was about to speak to that moon when . . . someone spoke to him. Di-limy snenir jim Donne sots out to Irark down a t.in of train robbers. AfliT mooting Dolores Alvaro nnd Monte Carrla he reslcns his ofllce and eocs to see Star La Hue. Jim forces La Rue to deed over the ranch he has stolon from Dolores' father. Later he en-counters en-counters sheriff Flick In pursuit of five horsemen. Next day Jim Is deputized scaln by the sherlrt to assist in apprehending appre-hending bank robbers. Jim fears that Dolores may bo in the band. Next day Jim and Garcia surprise Ave horsemen In the mountains and a sun batUe follows. Hoih Jim and Garcia are wounded. One of Uie horsemen Is L'a Rue. The sheriff's posse arrives Just as Jim Is shooting It out with La Rue. CHAPTER IX The shadow of the westerly wall had covered the floor of the tiny pass and climbed inch by inch up the easterly, giving the side wall formation a still more fantastic appearance. ap-pearance. Monte sighed, turning his head. Doane bent over him. In Monte's sight lay the two handsome, pearl-handled six-guns, and he imiled slightly. "Long ago La Rue give those very guns to me," Monte muttered. "It was when I work for him in the Silver Palace, years ago, an' he was afraid of thieves. La Rue must have forgot what he give those guns to me for eh? But the guns remember!" remem-ber!" A count of twenty riders stood in the background leaning forward in saddles, legs hooked up, or standing about in groups, to ease saddle-weary saddle-weary muscles. Little curls of smoke lifted from quiet cigarettes. This was Sam Flick's posse from Maxmilla City. Poles had been cut from desert mesquite and a litter constructed between two pack mules. Men finally lifted Monte up. "But, Doane, my frien', it would seem I have one leetle thing to confess con-fess to you," Monte continued, smiling smil-ing slowly. "Las' night when I go to my house, you know, for horse an' guns, it takes me a long while you remember? Thees thing also explain the real reason why I am jo willing to ride at your side. You see? For there in my house las' night, talking mos' peaceful-like with my mothaire, I find Miss Dolores Alvaro. It is much surprise!" sur-prise!" Monte relaxed in the litter. Men looked on and listened. "You see? At the time I think thees young lady have one ver', ver' hard time being in Maxmilla City, committing one robbery an' shooting, shoot-ing, while at the same time she sits talking so peaceful with my fnothaire. Mos' impos-ee-bul!" Sheriff Sam Flick nodded suddenly sudden-ly and vehemently. "You said a mouthful, Garcia!" Flick had already explained that if Doane and Monte had waited in Sand Wells a bit longer the night before they would have had his second telegram with full details. La Rue, meeting them in the pass, had most logically thought his only course was to shoot a way through. "Y'see, this was to have been another an-other one of the girl's crimes," Flick had continued his explanation. "Uh-huh! Yep, that's just what it was to have been! But the whole thing sorta worked out like this: "Them four one-time cowhands of La Rue's my first posse! come fannin' into Maxmilla City, reportin' the girl somewhere in the lead. So waitin' till along evenin'-time, La Rue in person simply opens up the bank. The five of 'em plunder the vaults an' start out. But right there luck ain't so good! Two men happen to be passin' in the street an' notice things. La Rue don't wait for nothln'. Starts shootin'l Drops one man; wounds the other. La Rue's Wiles Finally Exposed "I finally got the wounded man's ltory, an hour or so later. Then I sent down the second wire to Sand Wells. This man! had seen La Rue with his own eyes! Recognized him beyond any doubt! An' then why, dang me right at first I wouldn't hardly believe the story! Some things had to sorta click in my head first. That Sand Wells train robbery, f'inslance. Inside job, I'd alius fig-gered. fig-gered. I happened to remember that La Rue had been down In this country coun-try at the time, supposedly visitin' his ranch. Then them holdups in San Loreto, an' those four riders of his aopearin' quite sudden-like on the spot to assist me. All that just warn't quite natchural, when you got to lookin' at it close-like. But I got to considerin' all that hollerin-La hollerin-La Rue had put up about a girl bandit ban-dit down here ridin' at the head of some of the old-time vaqueros from Tres Hermanos. La Rue yellin' his head off that she was gittin' his stock! Alius hintin' to me, also, that pretty soon she was goin' to get bold an' pull off somethin' big! "Huh! She would! That's pretty good, eh? I've heard of men hidin' behind women's skirts, but never quite the way La Rue was workin' it." Flick laughed. "But this here girl ain't exactly wearin' skirts, leastwise not the way I seen her last. Danged if she didn't hand me about the hardest-rode chase of a long sheriffln' career. Fer a fac'!" From the saddle pockets of the sorrel La Rue had ridden Flick had recovered the big end of the security and cash stockholders' money missing from the Maxmilla City j THE END |