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Show tipn. "Yep," said Sam. He then changed the subject by asking, "Aren't you going to introduce us to the young lady?" Pat quickly apologized for the oversight, then introduced his brother and Lance Claw to Brutus Young and Kathryn Cannon. Brutus Bru-tus quickly added for Sam's benefit that he and Kathryn were engaged to be married. Sam was undaunted. "I'm flattered that you came to watch me fight, Miss Cannon... or can I call you Kathryn?" asked Sam, not takinfhis eyes from those of the young woman who seemed to be getting annoyed and a little embarrassed at the young man's intense attention. "I came here for the golden spike ceremony, not to watch you LEE NELSON'S fiflBfesiif the two men, undoubtedly the most beautiful woman young Storm had ever seen. She wasn't like the typical farm girls Sam knew in his native valley at the foot of the majestic Mt. Tim-panogos Tim-panogos the ones with the red . hands, sunburned noses, broad shoulders and constant giggles. Nor was she like the delicate Salt Lake City girls the thin, white-skinned white-skinned ones, afraid to look a man in the eye-the kind of women who never wore anything other than full-length dresses and rode horses sidesaddle when riding was necessary, neces-sary, otherwise enjoying the comfort com-fort of covered carriages. This girl looked different, in many ways. Though she was wearing wear-ing the finest starched dress made from imported blue and white satin, her long black hair hung freely free-ly about her shoulders like that of an Indian. It was apparent she had not wasted any time at a hairdresser. hairdres-ser. The skin on her bare shoulders was not red and rough like the farm girls, nor was it white and pampered pam-pered like the Salt Lake City girls. The skin on her strong and shapely shoulders was smooth and healthy with a mild suntan-almost olive in complexion. There was a glossiness to her skin like that of a well-muscled cow pony on a hot or anyone else fight.." began Kathryn before she was interrupted inter-rupted by Pat. "We're just stopping to let you know I'm going into Salt Lake with Brutus and Kathryn. Be attending the Golden Spike Ball tomorrow night, then heading back east to school. Just wanted to say goodbye to my little brother." "Besides," interjected Brutus Young, "a lady like Kathryn wouldn't want to watch two men whip each other like wild brutes of the forest." Lance Gaw, who had been silent up until now, began to laugh, something some-thing to do with Young's "beast of the forest" comparison. Sam didn't try to figure out why his friend was laughing. He knew better. bet-ter. Claw's sense of humor frequently fre-quently left white men and red men wondering what was funny. "I'll bet Kathryn would love to watch the fight," said Sam, again looking intently at the young woman. "More exciting than a dog fight. Guarantee it." Brutus started to object, but Kathryn put a hand on his arm, signaling him to be silent. "Maybe I should stay," she said, looking over at Brutus. "Being a practicing nurse, my services ser-vices might be needed at the conclusion con-clusion of the fight." Then she looked at Sam. "I think I would really enjoy pouring iodine in this man's wounds." CHAPTER 2 "You're crazy to fight of Black jack with bullwhips," said Lance Claw as he and Sam Storm jumped to the ground from the galley wagon. The May sun was low in the deep blue desert sky. They were walking towards one of the bunk cars where their gear was stored. "You heard how he nipped that German's ears off out of Nebraska," Nebras-ka," continued the half-breed. "Both of 'em, they say," replied young Storm, a smile on his tanned face. "Man's got to be pretty good to do that." "They say the big Frankfurter dropped to his knees and bawled like a baby, trying to squeeze the bloody flappers back in place. But they never took. Lost 'em both." giving up any hope of stopping the bullwhip fight. "Good idea," responded Storm as they climbed into the bunk car. "Maybe we can find a leather neckerchief, too. No use offering Blackjack any more bare skin that necessary." The two friends were alone in the bunk car, the other men already assembling at the clearing where the fight was to take place. "This stuff ain't armor," reminded re-minded Claw as he helped Storm into the leather clothing. "Take away some of the sting, but that whip'U still take your breath away, and still leave some nasty welts." Sam was adjusting the leather neckerchief when he heard someone some-one calling. "Samuel! You in there?" "For the first time in his life, Sam Storm found a woman more interesting than a fight." summer afternoon. Without asking, Sam figured she was not the sidesaddle type, but the kind of woman who could straddle a half-wild half-wild horse and give a man a hard race across the open prairie. The fact that she was dressed in the finest satin dress Sam had ever seen only enhanced the mystery of this magnificent young woman. And when Sam stared at her she didn't look away, her dark eyes never blinking, giving the appearance appear-ance of wisdom beyond her years. For the first time in his life, Sam Storm found a woman more interesting in-teresting than a fight. In fact, for a moment, all thoughts of the upcoming up-coming battle with Blackjack vanished from the young man's head. And when they returned, there was a feeling of regret that the fight might interfere with a chance to get better acquainted with this woman. Sam was temporarily bewildered, be-wildered, having never felt anything any-thing like this before in his short 20 years. "Why don't you stop staring at Kathryn and tell us what you are doing in those leather rags?" demanded de-manded Pat, attempting to embarrass embar-rass his brother. Sam could feel the color rising through his neck to his cheeks, and that made him angry. "Dress'n up to fight Blackjack," he responded, ignoring the comment com-ment about staring at the girl, but still looking at her, refusing to be intimidated. "You're really going to do it?" said Pat, his words more a statement state-ment of incredulity than a ques- "Insist on a regular fight, without with-out the bullwhips," persisted Claw. "You won't get much . court'n done without any ears." "I'll wear my hat. Pulled down over my ears." "What about your eyes and your neck and your face and your back? Do you even know how to use a bullwhip? I never seen one in your hand." Claw never seemed to be at a loss for words. "Used one a little on the ranch. With the stock. But I don't figure to lick him with a bullwhip." "How?" replied Claw, more than a little curiosity in his voice. "While Blackjack's been boss'n everybody around, I've been lift'n iron rails. Figure I'll be stronger. . Quicker, for sure. He's got the edge on experience, but I figure I can last longer if he doesn't get me early." "But how you gonna keep his whip from tear'n you up?" :' "Get in close, I figure, where it I won't do him any good, then pound "that soft belly of his." Storm playfully play-fully reached around his compan-'- ion's neck with one arm, then jab-: jab-: bed him in the stomach with the ' other, pretending to be in serious : combat. ........ r "Wanna wear my leather jacket? -Leggings too?" asked Claw, finally It was a familiar male voice, and the fact that it called him "Samuel" instead of "Sam" or "Storm" left no mistaking that it was his brother Patrick, undoubtedly un-doubtedly come to talk him out of the bullwhip fight. With an annoyed expression on his face, Sam headed for the doorway, but not before picking up the bullwhip he had arranged to borrow from a bunkmate. As Sam stepped into he daylight, he was surprised to see that his brother was not alone. In fact, Pat was riding in a fancy carriage, complete com-plete with a flat canvas cover fringed fring-ed with tassels. A cream puff of a man with pampered plump cheeks was holding the reins to the sleek bay geldings, obviously pampered with stalls and horseblankets. Otherwise they would have looked gaunt and shaggy like range horses look in the spring. Sam had seen the man before, a dry goods broker from Salt Lake. His name was Brutus Bru-tus Young. He had been selling supplies to the railroads, and had been working closely with Pat over the last few months. But Sam didn't give more than a darting glance at the carriage, the plump driver, the sleek horses, or even his brother. He was staring at the young woman seated between |