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Show , THE PROGRESSIVE OPINION THE STORY SO FAR:,, Buck Bart, the sheriff's brother, Jin TeUow, and Pete Tollman, alleged rustlers, had been "drygulched" shot In the back. Lee llart Is believed to have tried a shot from the back at Cal Terry In retalia- - O. 3i INSTALLMENT SIX tion. Terry is manager of the Diamond Reverse B ranch. RusUers and small cattlemen resent his having sold his own small ranch to get to the big fel-lows. In Denver the ' big' ranchers de cide to bring in Texas officers V. 1.. J- 3. in large numbers to Invade the rustlers' areas and kill them. Terry objects to the plan. Ellen Carey, daughter of the postmaster, is Intrigued by Jeff Brand who with-Jac- Turley, .another rustler, are most outspoken against Terry. i . fi r. I. she could get to sleep. Into her mind trooped thoughts connected with ambushings, and sudden death, and even after she slipped into sleep her dreams were wild and turbulent. She saw Jeff Brand and Calhoun Terry stalking each other in the sage. A gun would crash, but before her flying feet could take her to the scene the protagonists had changed. It was her father ' lying wounded, and Jack Turley was straddling his body rifle in hand. Strangely enough, Ellen saw next day at Black Butte all the four men of whom she had dreamed. Terry came up on the stage, on his way back to the Diamond Reverse B from Denver. Brand and Turley dropped into the post-offic- e shortly after the stage had arrived. The ranch foreman was eating dinner at the restaurant, but after he had finished he strolled across to the post-offic- e to wait while the fresh horses were being hitched. He asked for his mail. Ellen made a pretense of looking, though both of them knew this was not the office to which his letters came. She came back to the window. "No mail for you, Mr. Terry . . . May I see you a minute . . . alone?" He was surprised at her request, but scarcely more than she was. For it had been bora of a sudden urgent impulse. "Of course," he replied. "Here?" Her father came into the building. "At the house if you don't mind." To Lane Carey she said: "Will you take care of the mail a little while, please?" Carey glanced at her, at Terry, and back at his daughter. "Why, yes," he agreed. He did not know what was back of this, and he did not quite like it. Ellen spoke to Brand, including Turley in a general bow to a couple But Jeff Brand had no jumpy nerves. "You and yore crowd have been cutting a lot of mustard. Rubbing out our friends without giving them a chance for their white alley. Not like rattlesnakes. They give warn-ing. I always did claim there was vermin lower than a sidewinder. Now I've found them." "Are you quite through?" the ranch manager asked coldly. "Not yet. I'm mentioning now that we'll take a hand in this game. Two can play it as well as one. From now on there's an open season on Diamond Reverse B men and on those of the other big outfits. We'll be trying for the bosses, but when we don't find them handy a plain lunkhead waddy will do. The brake's done bust. We're off, and hell and high water can't stop us." "I wouldn't talk that way if I were you, Brand," Terry advised quietly. "I'm talking. You're listening. This is a message to you and to all the other damned rascals you're sleeping in a bed with. I'm mak-ing war talk. Understand?" Calhoun Terry understood perfect-ly. The rustler was offering him a chance to draw if he wished. Terry shook his head. "No dice, Brand. I don't know who killed these men, and I'm not going to make myself responsible for it. I won't let you hang it on me by forcing it as an issue. You can't put me in the wrong that way." The cowboy jeered at him. "What do you wear that gun beside you for, Terry? Or don't you draw it un-less a man has his back to you?" They were close to the porch. Ter-ry knew the other two men could hear every word Brand had said. He felt a tumultuous boiling up of the blood, the recklessness ready to break out in him explosively. Lane Carey came out on the porch, a big weather-beate- n West-erner who had fought his way through the rough and tumble of frontier life. "Don't be a fool, Jeff," he aid, no excitement in his even voice. "Can't you see that Mr. Terry doesn't want to fight unless you goad him to a showdown?" "I see he doesn't want to fight whether I goad him or not," Brand answered. Terry said coldly: "I choose my own causes for a fight, and I won't be maneuvered into defending as-sassins. But I'm not overly patient when bullies try to run over me." "Jeff isn't a bully, Mr. Terry," the postmaster explained placidly. "He's some excited, and kinda went off We can't rightly blame him for that, after his friends have been drygulched. But since you're no party to these killings nothing he has said applies to you." "You make it quite clear, Mr. Car-ey, that he couldn't possibly have meant me," Terry said, with a thin, ironic smile. "That's right, isn't it, Jeff?" Car-ey persisted, his quiet urgency crowding the cowboy toward some withdrawal of his attack. "Since Mr. Terry isn't the guilty party, you could not have meant him." Carey's character and personality gave him much influence in the community. It was important for the group to which Brand belonged not to drive him into the camp of the enemy. Jeff grudgingly gave ground. "What I said goes for the murder-ers, whoever they are." Terry followed the other passen-gers into the stage. Turley laughed unpleasantly. "Mr. Terry certainly took meek the worst cussin' out I ever heard." Headed for the post-offic- Carey stopped in his stride. "Don't make a mistake about Cal-houn Terry, boys. He's game as they' come. He was giving Jeff straight goods Unless Ca Terry has changed a lot from the young fellow I used to know, he isn't hiring any-- ; body to rub out his enemies. If it's to be done, he'll do it himself in the open." W m TTZIJ "The big ranches claim they can't keep going unless the stealing of stock is stopped. There is a lot of rustling, Tsn't there?" Ellen asked. "Yes." He added cynically: "Why make any bones about it?" "So that the Diamond Reverse B and the other big outfits really are fighting for their lives, in a way of speaking." "They are fighting for dividends to pay to absentee owners, most of them. Who ought to own this coun-try rich men in Edinburgh and New York, or settlers right here on the ground?" He looked at her, eyes hard and bleak. "We have guns too. I reck-on this war won't be all We'll find out who this guy is with the Winchester. One thing is sure. He's mighty familiar with the hab-its of the men he killed. How did he know where Pete would be stay-ing last night?" "At any rate we know that Cal-houn Terry didn't do this, since he is in Denver at the convention." "How do we know he is there?" Ellen looked at him, startled. "He took the train at Round Top." "Maybe he got off at a station 30 miles away and came back. It might have been a blind." "No," she said instantly. "I don't believe it. You don't either." He took his time to answer. "No, I don't reckon he did. Terry has hell in the neck, but what shoot-ing he does will be done in the open. Just the same he belongs to the group that is paying for this Ellen and her father left while the .ance was still in full swing. CHAPTER XH Ellen was finding it difficult to draw sharp lines between good and bad. Jeff Brand was an example. Her interest in him was growing, and with it a reluctance to condemn him utterly. No doubt he was a thief, but she guessed he stole not for profit so much as for the thrill of it. If rumor was true, he had killed men in Texas and found it wise to leave suddenly. Yet he was human, with unsuspected loy-alties. And there was Calhoun Terry. Most of those living near Black Butte would call him traitor because he had changed sides. But was that judgment final? If appearances counted for anything, he was the last man in the world to kill another furtively from the brush or to hire a substitute to do it. Right and wrong existed, of course, yet there was a borderland of conflict where the differences ran thin. Ellen brought the more im-personal aspect of the difficulty to her father. The time was after sup-per when he was reading one of Hor-ace Garvey's editorials in the Ga-zette. "Garvey takes a strong line about these assassinations," he said. "He sure enough hits out right from the shoulder. Just what he should do, too. Tells the big ranches they can't sow the wind without reaping the whirlwind." ', Ellen was silent for a minute. A frown puckered her forehead. "Isn't there any way to stop this dreadful bitterness?" Lane Carey shook his grizzled head. "Not so easy, honey. The big cattle outfits want a wide-ope- n free range for their stock. They don't want the land plowed up or the coun-try along the creeks fenced. They have grabbed what they can, one way and another, by using their riders as dummies for homestead and rights. But that isn't enough if they are going to run herds as big as they have been do-ing. So there you are. If the little fellows fence and plow the land the big ranches can't have it for range. Cattle came here first. The large concerns feel the nesters and home-steaders are interlopers, and they have gone some farther than the law allows to let them know it." "You think the Diamond Reverse B and the No, By Joe, with the other big outfits, are to blame, then?" "They made it mighty hard for the small fry to earn a living in these lean years when they quit em-ploying men who had places and stock of their own. But there is another side to it. Rustlers have been very active,, and I'm afraid a good many of the nesters have helped themselves to calves to build up their herds and to steers for food when they got hard up." "So everybody is wrong and no-body is right," she said. He drew on the pipe for a few moments to make sure it would not go out. "I wouldn't say that. You might put it that there are conflict-ing rights hard to reconcile." Ellen brushed tobacco from his coat. "You don't see any hope of peace, then?" "I wish I did," he said at last. "But all the talk is the other way. I heard that fellow Jack Turley say at the dance he was going to carry a rifle with him when he rode after this. The men he was talking with seemed to agree." "I don't like the man," Ellen cut in, deflected from the main thought. "He has been hanging around me a little." "Not a pleasant fellow . . . This new ranchers' and stockmen's as-sociation the little men formed at Round Top the other day will cer-tainly make trouble. The big ranches aren't going to let them round up range stock and brand whatever they please in a gather of their own." Ellen kissed her father good night, lit a lamp, and went upstairs to her room. It was some time before "Isn't there any way to stop this dreadful bitterness?" of others present. She could see that Jeff was astonished at what she was doing. The Diamond Re-verse B manager, she observed, had walked through the group as though oblivious of their presence. Ellen stopped with Terry in front of the porch, coming swiftly to what was in her mind. "Isn't there any way, Mr. Terry, of stopping all this killing that is being done?" she asked. "Does it have to go on, building up hate, making this country an awful place to live in?" If he was moved by her indignant appeal his immobile face gave no evidence of it. "I think the trouble will go on. In one way or another, until stealing cattle is stopped," he said. "You favor murder?" she cried. "Did I say so?" he countered. "You said " She cut off her own sentence. "It doesn't matter what you said. Your friends are hiring murder done. Can you deny it?" Terry had not at first believed this. But doubts of his associates bad seeped into his thinking. The Diamond Reverse B manager replied to her question with another. "Can you prove it?" "Of course I can't." Stormy-eye-she pressed the attack. "But you know it's true. I don't know what part you have in it, but your friends are trying to stop theft by murder." "I don't know any more about it than you do," he answered, anger and obstinacy in his steel-blu- e eyes. "If you want this trouble stopped, go to your father and his friends. Get them to persuade the rustlers to move out. What do you expect? Do you think we'll let these scoundrels steal wholesale from us and laugh in our faces when we take them to court? We are going to protect our property." "By killing men from ambush?" "No." A dull flush of rage beat into his face beneath the tan. "By hanging known thieves by the neck to trees when we have enough evi-dence. Is there anything else you would like to know, Miss Carey?" She stood, very erect and proud. "No, Mr. Terry. I know all I want to know about you." Turning, she walked into the house. Calhoun Terry walked back to-ward the stage. It was in front of the post-offic- The horses were be-ing brought out to hitch. He saw Jeff Brand move forward to meet him. "Like a word with you, Mr. Ter-ry." he said. Terry said nothing. There is some-times a force in silence more potent lhan any speech. CHAPTER XIII For hours Calhoun Terry had been riding across territory ranged by stock of the Bartlett Land & Cattle Company. Ellison was at home. His host got out a bottle and pushed it toward Calhoun, who waved it aside with a gesture al-most impatient. "I've brought a message for you from Jeff Brand," he said. " "From Jeff Brand? What is that scoundrel sending me a message about?" "He is serving notice that he and his friends are going to make re-prisals for the rustlers who have been murdered." Terry's gaze rest-ed steadily on the No, By Joe man-ager. "They re going after the bosses, but if they can't get them, riders for the big outfits will have to do." "The nerve of him!" Ellison cried. "It shows what this country has come to when a known outlaw can send such an impudent message to honest men." "We didn't need that to show us," Terry answered bluntly. "To have three men shot down from ambush in two weeks is evidence enough." Terry stopped, searching the oth-er's gray countenance. "When out-fits throw in together to play the same hand, Clint, it ought to be played above-boar- d for all of them to see." The other man said, after a mo-ment's hesitation, "Some things are better not talked about, Cal." (TO BE CONTIWED) the collar will stand out prettily. 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Vistck, Mgr. i ' Christ of the Andes The year 1902 was a great peace year for the two great "A" and "C" South American republics, Argentina and Chile. Great Brit-ain had successfully mediated a boundary dispute between the two nations which had almost turned the neighbor republics into two armed camps. To cement the boundary agree-ment, Chilean and Argentine dele-gates agreed to a reduction of armaments May 28, 1902. The women of Buenos Aires commem-orated these peace pacts by sup-plying the necessary funds to erect the huge bronze statue of Christ on the Andes frontier be-tween the two republics. Despised Danger Danger comes the sooner when it is despised. Syrus. If the cement floor of your cellar has a rough finish, paint with a special paint used for this purpose and sold by paint dealers. Line your clothes basket with oilcloth cut to fit basket. Fine fabrics will not then catch on loose pieces of cane. 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The minimum age for repre-sentatives in the congress of the United States is what? 5. What is the population of Iceland? 6. In the navy, a captain's boat is called what? An admiral's? 7. Is a congressman, judge or lawyer subject to charges of libel? 8. How many men did Napo-leon have in the Grande Armee which invaded Russia in 1812? The Answers 1. Yes, but only on the Capitol, the House and Senate Office build-ings, in Washington. 2. Mrs. John Quincy Adams was born in London of an Amer-ican father. - , 3. The sun (a mass of incan-descent gases). 4. U. S. representatives must be 25 years of age. 5. The last census (December 31, 1938) gave 118,888. 6. A gig. A barge. 7. While performing official duties, a congressman, judge, or lawyer may say or write mali-cious and untrue things about a person without being subject to charges of libel. 8. About 400,000. Thinking and Feeling With most of us feeling dulls into thinking as we progress along the road, and woe to that man who has never learned to think, for If he lives into old age he will be a plague to himself and a nuisance alike t those who think, or feel. Spare Moments The art of wisely using the spare five minutes, the casual vacancies or intervals of life, i one of the most valuable we can acquire. W. E. Lecky. |