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Show WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE'S COPYRIGHT WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE WNU SERVICE CHAPTER XIH Continued 22 "Morgan Norris killed Buck Conrad Con-rad and freed, Lou." "How many men has your father?" fa-ther?" Jeff asked Ruth. "Four besides himself. Others will be here after a while." He flung another question at her, his voice harsh and swift. Nothing In manner or speech betrayed the swift awareness of her, passionate and fierce, that sent a heat running through his strong body. "How many more?" "I don't know. Six or seven. And the word is being passed to other cattlemen. They will send men too." She broke down, with a sob. After so many hours of desperate fear it was too much to find him not dead but alive and full of the energy that seemed in him so much more vital than in others. Ruth cried, in explanation, "We heard firing as we came into town." Jeff flung out a hand, to push the memory from him. "They . . . killed Hank Ransom, my friend, who was hiding me." "How did you escape?" she murmured. mur-mured. "I wasn't there. . I left him . . . alone . . . after he was wounded." "No!" she denied. "It isn't true." "I thought I had to go, to save us. Before I got back they had him." She moved closer, filled with pity for him. "He would understand if he were alive," she said gently. The faint, tender smile on her lips, the wistful eagerness to comfort com-fort him, were too much for her self-restraint. He caught her to him held her warm, breathing body close and looked down into the face that held for him the lovely youth of the world incarnate. Again guns sounded. "I've got to go," he said. "Go where?" Ruth asked the question, though ihe knew the answer. "I must join your father. There Is still fighting." "How can you get to him?" If you're seen on the street " "I'll get to him." Her brown arms, soft and warm, were about his neck, fingers interlaced. inter-laced. Jeff broke the hold, gently, gen-tly, but with irresistible strength. Without a word, with no good-by, abruptly he turned and walked out of the room. Nelly was still sleeping peacefully, peaceful-ly, an arm flung across her eyes to shield them from the light. CHAPTER XIV The barking of Ransom's dog upset up-set the plans of Morgan Norris for a surprise. He had forgotten about Laddie, though everybody in Tail Holt knew the great affection of the blacksmith and the collie for each other. Since the loud and angry protest of Laddie at his presence annoyed him, Norris followed his impulse and killed the animal. Mile High did not like it. To kill a man was one thing, but to kill a faithful dog quite another. "What's the idea in that?" he asked resentfully. The killer snarled something. What he said was not important. Gray had come out of the cabin and was standing in the moonlight, his open hand raised in the old peace sign. Norris gave a derisive yell and fired. Others in his crowd followed the example set. Hank Ransom was beside the marshal now. He blazed away with a rifle. A moment mo-ment later he went down and Gray , , i-l J nrlnotiopfor naa snaLuaeu uj uic The wounded man crawled back into the cabin. His companion retreated, re-treated, still answering the fire of the attackers, and slammed the door after him. One of the outlaws sat on the ground. He was nursing a shattered elbow and cursing violently. vio-lently. "Find cover, boys," Norris ordered. or-dered. "We don't want to get killed while we're smoking these birds I out." He could have saved his breath. The others were already on their way to get out of sight. Norris sent two men to make a wide circle and get. to the rear of the cabin. "If they try to make a break, crack at them. We'll be there on the jump." For some minutes there was desultory des-ultory tiring. The attackers moved closer, but gave that up when a second man was wounded. Mile High got an idea. "Let's dynamite the rocks above and send them down on the cabin. They'll come scuttling out like rabbits ii the avalanche doesn't kill them." A man was sent to get dynamite from Sanger's store. When he returned, re-turned, Mile High led a party to the rimrock. Before he succeeded in sending a big boulder crashing down on the adobe cabin he was driven away by a surprise attack. As thoy retreated to join their companions com-panions below, he noticed that one of them was missing. "Anybody seen Clint Doke?" he asked. "They must have got him up there," someone said. "Where did all those fellows come from?" "I wouldn't know," Mile High said bitterly. "We start out to round up one red-headed guy and we bump into a whole passel of them." The gunfire below became more rapid. They could see the flashes of the exploding shots in the darkness. dark-ness. "There's a heap of shooting from that cabin," a black-browed outlaw grumbled. "Looks to me like there are more than two men there." They found Norris and the man with him backing away from the battle. He was in a vile humor. At the last moment victory had been snatched from him. What had occurred oc-curred he did not yet know, but it was clear that an irruption of allies al-lies had poured in on the defendants. defend-ants. "Thought you were going to wipe out the cabin with boulders from above," he snarled. "Before we got started, a bunch of men attacked us, killed Clint Doke, and drove us away," Mile "Rats leave a sinking ship, don't they?" High explained. "I'm askin' you where all these warriors came from." "I aim to find that out right damn now," Norris said savagely. "I'll give you my guess. That double-crossing double-crossing son-of-a-gun Sherm How-1 ard threw down on us and sent word to Chiswick and his friends to come collect us. The rat figures we're sunk and he's trying to suck up to the law to save his own hide. When I see him ..." He did not finish his sentence. The malevolence of his 'voice was threat enough. "Maybe not, Morg. Don't go off half-cocked. Find out for sure before be-fore you go too far. Sherm's a wily old bird. He may wiggle us out of this jam yet. We don't even know yet who these men are who jumped us." "Outside of Chiswick and his cattle cat-tle friends this country is filled with absentees when it comes to gunmen gun-men ready to tackle me and my crowd," Norris retorted angrily. "Get the boys together, Mile High, and don't let them separate. By morning we may have the worst bear-fight on our hands you ever saw. Meet you at the Golden Nugget Nug-get in half an hour." "Where you going now?" "I told you I was aimin' to have a li'l talk with Sherm Howard," the killer said out of the corner of his thin-lipped mouth. "I'll say he'd better have a good story to tell me, too." "I'll go with you," Mile High said hurriedly. Norris swung . round on him, standing on the balls of his feet, angry eyes glaring through slitted lids. "By God, you won't." Mile High looked at him for a long moment, then gave way with a shrug. There was no doing anything any-thing with Norris when he was in a rage. Clearly he was working himself him-self up into one now. The issue was not important enough to justify a quarrel. Trust Sherm Howard to talk some sense into his head. The old fox would know how to handle Morg. The outlaw did not find Sherman Howard at home. After pounding on the door for some time, he roused Lou, who demanded sleepily what he wanted. "I want the old man," Norris cried with an oath. "Where is he?" "That you, Morg? I dunno where he is. I been asleep. Last time I saw him was at the Golden Nugget" Nug-get" "Get up and dress." the badman ordered harshly. "There's a heluva war on and you can't duck it. Get yore gun and come out here." "What you mean, a war?" "Chiswick's warriors are in town. They've done killed Doke and wounded two-three more. You're in this, fellow, and don't you forget it." Lou protested, in vain. Reluctantly Reluc-tantly he dressed and joined the other. "Scoot down to the Cottonwood grove and report to Mile High," the bandit told him. "See you show up pronto. If you don't, I'll take care of you personal. Understand?" Norris turned on his heel and swaggered away, fury still burning within him. He walked into the back door of the Golden Nugget Day would break in another hour or two, but the place hummed with life. No gambling was taking place, but there was plenty of drinking. Men stood around in groups, all of them armed, though in some cases the weapons were concealed. For by this time all Tail Holt knew that a showdown was at hand. The battle bat-tle lines were drawn between the outlaws and the cattlemen, between Gray and Chiswick on the one side and Howard and Norris on the other. Morg Norris was a marked man as he walked to the bar. The talk suspended, and all eyes rested on him. He was the fighting spearhead of the lawless forces, just as Sherm Howard was the directing brain. Men watched him, to get a clue to future action. They meant to play safe. If the outlaws were going to win, they wanted to be with them at the finish. But if law was coming com-ing into the mesquite, if the day of the killer and the thief was at an end, they wanted to make overtures over-tures to Chiswick, or, in case they had gone too far for that, to slap a saddle on a bronc and leave swiftly for parts unknown. Norris ordered a drink and asked curtly where Sherm Howard was. The bartender Pete nodded a head toward the office. "How are cases, Morg?" someone some-one asked with what indifference he could assume. The killer showed his teeth in a snarl. "Fine. How would they be going?" "I hear Chiswick is in town with a bunch of his men," another said casually. Morg took the drink at a gulp. "You hear correctly." He slanted insolent eyes at the man. "You pullin' on the bit to get a crack at them, Slim?" Without waiting for an answer he turned his back on them and walked into the office, closing the door behind be-hind him. In the room were three men, Sherman Howard, Curt Dubbs, and a man named Yorky who usually usual-ly hovered close to the stout man. It was generally understood he was a guard. The three men looked up. None of them spoke for a moment. Howard How-ard felt a premonition of disaster. He said, "Any news, Morg?" Norris moved a little closer, carrying car-rying his body with a lithe, catlike grace. His shallow eyes were narrowed nar-rowed to shining slits. A light played on the surface as it does on agate marbles. The face of the man was venomous. "Plenty," he snarled. The heart of the big man died. He wanted to call out a warning to Yorky, but he dared not. His glance darted here and there, seeking seek-ing help, then came back to the dark agates fixed on him. The muscles of his fat face twitched as he fought to control himself. The man had come to kill him. He did not doubt that. "Did you get Gray?" Yorky asked, his chair tilted back against the wall and his hands thrust into trouser pockets. He knew Norris was in a suDen rage, but he had no guess that an explosion as imminent. im-minent. "No, we didn't get Gray," the outlaw answered with a sneer. "We weren't sent to get Gray, but for him and his crowd to get us. You'll be glad to know, Howard, you double dou-ble - crossing coyote, that yore friends Gray and Chiswick have rubbed out Clint Doke and maybe others. Tracy they have wounded. Menger too." Howard raised a trembling, hamlike ham-like hand in protest. "Don't talk foolishness, Morg. Why would I throw down on the boys and join up with my enemies? You ought to know me better than that. It doesn't make sense." "Rats leave a sinking ship, don't they? Sure I know you clear through. You tried to have me bumped off before. Now you've sent for Chiswick's crowd. Trying to play in with them and save yore-self." yore-self." "Listen, Morg. Don't get excited. Listen to me." Howard made a motion mo-tion to raise himself from the seat He did not get halfway up. Norris whipped out a forty-five and fired three times. Howard caught at his stomach and sank back into the chair. Any one of the bullets would have been fatal. The wolfish face of the killer turned on the others. "Want any of my game, either of you?" he demanded. de-manded. Dubbs tried to speak and found he could not. The big eyes in his white face stared at the killer. "We're not in this, Morg," Yorky said. "If you and Sherm had a dif-' Acuity, that wasn't our business." "You bet it wasn't." Norris went on exultantly: "I'll take care of this show, boys. That scoundrel was playing both ends. We'll sweep this riffraff out of Tail Holt before twenty-four hours. I'm sending a call for the boys to come in from the hills." "Sure. Sure. That's the way." Dubbs got his approval out hoarsely from a dry throat. "We'll go into the other room and tell the boys," Norris swaggered. "And don't throw me down if you're figuring on health." He herded them into an outer room and explained to a dozen excited ex-cited men that he had killed Howard How-ard because he was betraying them. While Norris still had the floor, the door opened and a man staggered stag-gered into the room. His face was blood-stained from a gash over the temple. Apparently he had been roughly handled. The man was Clint Doke. Norris stared at him. "I heard they had got you." "He left me for dead," Doke explained. ex-plained. "Who did?" "Jeff Gray." He told his story. Jeff slipped around the corner of the Presnall boarding-house to the road. Nobody "was in sight within fifty yards, but as he looked he heard the drumming of horses' hoofs crossing the bridge at the end of town. He drew back into the shadow of the building to let the riders pass. Before they reached him he saw the glint of moonlight on the barrels of rifles. To the surprise of Gray the party drew up at the Presnall house. A young fellow swung from a saddle and moved forward. He recognized Bob Chiswick, and at once called his name. Bob pulled up short. The marshal said, "Jeff Gray," and stepped out to meet the boy. "By Jupiter, you're alive!" Bob cried. (TO BE CONTINUED) |