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Show A V J Batutesi fyictfon Serial .,c.w,-w By HAROLD CHANNING WIRE Is SYNOPSIS jlm Cotter, forest ranger, had been mysteriously killed in the pursuit of his duties. Gordon Breck. his best friend, pi Ukes over Cotter's job, hoping to avenge J his murder. "Dad" Cook, forest super-intendent, super-intendent, warns Breck that the Tillson brothers, mountain moonshiners, are apt to give him trouble. Beforo leaving for 3) his mountain station. Breck buys an outfit out-fit and decides to attend the public dance run by the Tillsons in Lone Tree. At the dance Breck dances with Louise Temple, tea pretty "cowgirl" for whom he takes a 3 jlang. Unknown to Breck, she is being "1 courted by Art Tillson, youngest of the !Tii three Tillson brothers. Angered by Breck's attentions to the girl, he picks a fight which ends indecisively when some-It some-It one sets fire to the hall. Breck and his chief set out for the mountain station, k HaLfway, they are met by Sierra Slim, moss-back mountaineer who la also in the forest service. Around the campfire that night, Breck learns from Sierra that r, tracking down Jim Cotter's murderer l'l must be done cautiously and by devious " methods. Cook, Breck and Sierra continue con-tinue their ascent of the mountains, fl Stopping to rest, they sight the Tillsons. l returning to their hideaway. Next day, Cook sends Breck and Sierra in one di- rection to repair the telephone line, while he takes another. Over the campfire at night Sierra tells Breck more about Louise Temple. CHAPTER VI Continued J -5- i "You'd say Louy belongs here," rill, Sierra explained, "because you ioi.lound her here. That kid's a thor-3t thor-3t oughbred. Let me tell you. There's 1,1 J been four generations of Temples 11 grazing their stuff on Temple Mead-?fllow. Mead-?fllow. Then along came a girl and the old man tried to make her over , l 'Into .-"boy. Didn't work at all. ilW.uy 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. 'fy, "Then two years ago her old man 'fgai thro wed and is crippled for the yfcrest of his days. Did Louy keep up fjber fight with him? Not any! She u ain't scrappin' a fellow when he's down. That's why she's back here, ridin' range the way Tom has airways ai-rways wanted her to ride. But the TK'-poor kid! God, I know she's given Map everything!" W Breck sat with thoughts flashing ' back to reconstruct their meeting at lie dance. Again he heard Louise lay, "I hope we Rubes haven't dis-ippointed dis-ippointed you." Now he began to lealize her meaning. He had taken oo much for granted that night. "Will she be up here?" he asked. "Yep; with the drive on the fif-enth." fif-enth." Sierra's gaze speculated apon him for some time. Suddenly le said, "You know, you ought to marry that girl! Yes, sir, you two would mate right well." r Breck laughed. Sierra's putting it flike that gave him a queer start. He shrugged to pass off the feeling. "What about Art Tillson, Slim?" v; "That's a fact. She favors him jome." ; "Can you tell me why?" "God knows. Unless she thinks WMhe can help him. Art's in the 'wong corral." '"rom what Breck had seen he ' :oruidered young Tillson the same sort as his two brothers. He said so. "You haven't studied 'em enough," Sierra asserted. "Ain't j none of them three alike. Jud, he's 1 a fightin' man and don't claim to be Tnothin' 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 il icels 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 if his saddle, while Sierra Slim, talk-s talk-s ing on, looked deep into the lives of mountain folk and saw there traits ( that they themselves might not understand. un-derstand. 0 ft They reached the end of their line at Kern River, and swinging back, turned toward headquarters station fay way of Sulphur Creek. Most of the return line was badly :0 iown' delaying them past the allot- d 1 week. It was the twelfth of June 1C when they rode into headquarters. U "Breck," Cook said over the table that night, "you can figure on mov-3' mov-3' ng to Rock House day after tomor-S tomor-S rw. That's the fourteenth, just one night ahead of the cattle drive. Sift Si-ft ea stays on patrol here. Tomor-y Tomor-y rw the Kern Peek lookout will be coming in. you and Slim will pack ie him to the top." f It was a lean-bodied man with lfon gray hair that rode into head-1S head-1S barters the next morning astride tf government mule and leading two Packs. oi "Hollo, Donny!" Cook hailed him, at Produced him to Breck. "This j Dnaldson, the man who spots -e J" for J0" to fight. You'll cuss Wdsr' Plenty bf0re UlG SSaSOn Jf BreT,dSn SwunS & his mule. of keen d into eyes as cold and ma'as steel bullet points. The " nad a hermit's brown expres-rm,SS expres-rm,SS tace' and his voice was tliin ,nl"remartUSe" "Howdy" wa3 his He NosPected on the desert. Cook 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 night, 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, 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 with lead ropes tangled in down timber. He saw nothing until, having descended to a shelf, he found a white patch of Goof's 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 They reached the end of their line at Kern River. reading the lines that denoted the 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 ormosite bank, ears pointing. Breck had changed. He 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. 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 Tillson. Till-son. CHAPTER Vm 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 off 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 over a flat, narrow forehead. Ha 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 his 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) |
