OCR Text |
Show fteApS,fROLLIN BROWN It- ' " ur? sheriff Jim Doane sets out to !;? down ean6 o' train robbers. s'l- " meetins Dolores Alvaro and Monte ; '""la le res,Ens bls offlce and K0CS t0 '"sur La Hue- "m 'orccs La Rue irg i- "'dfcd over the ranch he has stolen 0-:. "n, Dolores' father. Later he en-h en-h jiltrs sheriff Flick In pursuit of five lumen- Next day Jim Is deputized W "e snerlff t0 assist ln appre-"m appre-"m bank robbers. Jim fears that Lts may ln band- Next day Tud Garcia surprise five horsemen Cft tile mouatains and a gun battle follows. 1 MS Jm anli Garcla are wounded, nyolthe horsemen Is La Rue. The ' l! jyriirs Psse rrlves Just as Jim is polios " " wlUl La Rue- 'CEs CHAPTER IX The shadow of the westerly wall k d covered the floor of the tiny ' ass and climbed inch by inch up I!? te easterly, giving the side wall trmation a still more fantastic ap--1 arance. Monte sighed, turning his ' Sitad. Doane bent over him. In ilonte's sight lay the two handsome, :eirl-handled six-guns, and he ailed slightly. "Long ago La Rue give those very jra to me," Monte muttered. "It I u when I work for him in the I 3?er Palace, years ago, an' he was iald of thieves. La Rue must have agot what he give those guns to t for-eh? But the guns remem- A count of twenty riders stood in Ta background leaning forward in paddles, legs hooked up, or standing -kiout in groups, to ease saddle- reary muscles. Little curls of jjproke lifted from quiet cigarettes, i tis was Sam Flick's posse from (amilla City. Poles had been cut rei San desert mesquite and a litter instructed between two pack des. Men finally lifted Monte up. 'S "But, Doane, my frien', it would em I have one leetle thing to con-&! con-&! ess to you," Monte continued, smil-Ciif" smil-Ciif" ij slowly. "Las' night when I go ) my house, you know, for horse n' guns, it takes me a long while ntn- .you remember? Thees thing also Bo;; irlain the real reason why I am ) trilling to ride at your side. You "" u? For there in my house las' -Vijrit, talking mos' peaceful-like ii-iiith my mothaire, I find Miss ViTTJolores Alvaro. It is much sur-!U-ie:" Monte relaxed In the Utter. Men Jv'Med on and listened. M "You see? At the time I think IJpJwes young lady have one ver', ver' iujbni time being In Maxmilla City, 1Htr Jommitting one robbery an' shoot-sun: shoot-sun: is. while at the same time she sits '.fp liking so peaceful with my icthatre. Mos' Impos-ee-bul!" Jt Sheriff Sam Flick nodded sudden-5'r sudden-5'r ' and vehemently. Bojw "You said a mouthful, Garcia!" w Flick had already explained that jjl IDoane and Monte had waited in AM Wells a bit longer the night ftlore they would have had his Nd telegram with full details. J1 Rue, meeting them in the pass, Jd most logically thought his only (tase was to shoot a way through. MjT'Y'see, this was to have been an-jJl)fer an-jJl)fer one of the girl's crimes," ;? lick had continued his explanation. ' ; Uhuh! Yep, that's just what it "fs to have been! But the whole jLp sorta worked out like this: ' 'Hem four one-time cowhands of V Rue's my first posse! come min' Into Maxmilla City, repbrtin' 'girl somewhere in the lead. So y til along evenin'-time, La person simPly opens up the 1 'Jt. The five of 'em plunder the s an' start out. But right ;reluck ain't so good! Two men Trp" l be passin' in the street M "otice things. La Rue don't wait n Bi ' within'. Starts shootin'! Drops nn; wounds the other. w he's Wiles '"fl'y Exposed IC Iff"1 finally got the wounded man's fflj' an ho"r or so later; Then I "Mown the second wire to Sand SAWi This man had seen La Rue fjH his own eyes ! Recognized him T-'Wd any doubt! An' then why, i-fi me-right at first I wouldn't f:,V believe the story! Some ; S 'Kad to sorta click in my head 't-That Sand Wells train robbery, ',Cv'an,ce' Inside job, I'd alius fig-W''tl fig-W''tl Pened t0 remember that d Ue had been down in this coun-res coun-res P at the time, supposedly visitin' ranch pen them holdups in San i an' those four riders of his tarin' quite sudden-like on the "pi, J" assist me. All that just jfljC, quite natchural, when you a,,, lookin' at it close-like. But Mb nsiderin' a11 that nolle""' had Put up about a girl ban- u C? here ridin' at the head of " tes H 'he old"time vaqueros from "'"nanos. La Rue yelUn' his Z'l she was gittin' his cl.;v Allus hintin' to me, also, that 't-'li f00n she was goin' to get wr'-'U h. S somethin' big! clJ'H LShe wou,d! That's pretty f":;tr.d I ve heard of men hidin' b"B'M170men's skirts, but never 'F , way La Rue was workin' "K'1 lau8hed. "But this here exacy wearin' skirts. nSe not the way I seen her KVtlnged she didn't hand me "' g sh hardest-rode chase of a -f'omer'imn' career- Fer a fac'!" Jllhel I saddle Pockets of the 1 "Xerort u had ridden FIick nad IIV cal big end of the security isii YStockholdes money -j s from the Maxmilla City ! 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 sur- iTTt HS al0ne of ose 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 '1' he 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- strip. Only the sheriff, Doane, and 'a handful of riders - with the Utter 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 himseif, 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'?" 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. "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 girl toward to-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. THE END |