The term, tenderfoot, was applied to
every newcomer to the old West and
stuck to him or left him according to
the degree of his proficiency In as-
similating the ways of the country.
Pine essential process in his education
was mastery of the use of firearms, If
naturally “handy” with a six-gun, he
outgrew the tenderfoot characteristics
more rapidly than his less skillful
brethren.
Faithful novelists, such as William
Macleod Raine, who have relied upon
true types and authentic backgrounds
have not minimized the Influence of the
six-gun as a civilizing element. The
first resort of cowards and rufilans, it
naturally became the most potent im-
plement in combating and subduing
them. No amount of courage or deter-
mination on the part of peace officers
availed without the assistance and ac-
complished use of well-oiled "blue
hardware.” In many sections no man
could be considered well dressed for
either social or business occasions un-
less he wore it
Most novels of the West have dealt
with seasoned residents of the coun-
try—people equipped to take care of
themselves under all circumstances.
The heroes generally have been men
inured to the life. It has remained
for William MacLeod Raine to paint a
stirring picture of the experiences of
a tenderfoot; to draw a hero who was
pitched into the midst of a trying
environment and who had to learn to
fight before he had comprehended any
other of the elements of existence in
the place of his location,
You will follow the romance of this
story and the adventures of the fight-
ing tenderfoot with rare interest; for
they are mainly true records, accounts
from historical sources and types of
character in ore of the most pletur-
esque and colorful eras the world has
ever known,
CHAPTER |
we J
A Desert Greeting
On horse and man the evidence was
written plain that they had traveled
far. Yellow dust, fine as powder, had
sifted into every crease of the rider's
trousers. It covered his boots, his
black hat, his coat. It streaked the
young fellow's face and caked his
burning throat. The eyes of the man
were sunken and As for
the animal, sweat stains blotted flank
and withers. Hoofs dragged and head
drooped.
Garrett O'Hara nodded In the sad
dle, The heat of the sun made him
sleepy. No pressing engagement
awaited him at Concho. Why not
throw off among the trees and lie down
in the shade for an hour? So, sleepily,
he mused, hand on the horn to steady
his lax body.
Out of the slumberous heat of the
afternoon came sinister greeting. The
traveler's hat, tilted to protect the
face from the sun's rays, was lifted
from his head as though by a sudden
current of wind, The sound of an ex
plosion boomed. From the chaparral
smoke drifted skyward.
O'Hara's languor vanished—and so
did he. Before the booming of the
rifle had died, before the first thin
shred of smoke had appeared, he had
flung himself out of the saddle and
was scuttling for the brush. As he
ran he stooped to scoop up his hat,
Not till he had dodged past much
greasewood and mesquite did he stop
to reconnoiter. For one glance had
shown him two holes In the hat. A
bullet had passed through the side any
erown. If the ambusher had fired
two inches lower the lead would have
crashed through the victim's brain.
The running man pulled up to con-
sider ways and means. The position
of the holes in the hat showed him
that the shot had come from the right.
What was the object of this attack?
(rHara was a stranger, He could have
no enemies, not in this frontier land
Since he was unknown, nobody could
have acquired a grudge against him
Robbery, then, could have been the
only motive. Somebody had tried to
assassinate him to get his wallet, or
else his horse and saddle. Who?
O'Hara meant to find out, If it could
be done without too much risk.
Slowly, with the greatest precaution
against the snapping of twigs or the
rustle of bushes, he moved toward the
road, revolver In hand. He stopped.
Something or some one war moving
rapidly in the brush parallel to him,
A voice, two voices, came abruptly
from the left, The first, a rough,
heavy one, startled by surprise: “You,
by cripes!”
The other high and clear, on a note
of excited resentment: “Who did you
expect? Who were you trying to kill?
“Why in Mexico do you ride around
in them clothes? The rough voice
tield both apology and exasperation,
“Suppose you mind your own busi
ness, Shep Sanderson” came swift,
sharp answer. “What I want to know
is why you shot at me?”
O'Haru, edging forward, could see
them now from the cover of a cholla,
They were In a draw. One, a light
slender figure, stood against a bank,
revolver in hand, The other, the big
hulking man, carried a rifle.
The ecavesdropper had a swift sus-
pleion, which he verified by craning
his neck around the cactus. The one
who had spoken last was a young
woman, She wore the shiny chaps
of a cowboy, plain wide leathers Into
which she had thrust her skirts.
“I ain't admittin' I shot at_you, but
it I did I had no way of knowin’ it
was a woman, let alone you, You got
uo license to wear that get-up.” There
was outraged virtue in the heavy
growl,
“You shoot first and find out after
ward who you're shootin’ at, Is that
it? I'll see what Dave Ingram has
tot to say about that, If you want to
know, you're nothing but a low-down
murdering wolf.”
“Now looky here, Miss Steelman, |
bloodshot,
didn’t go for to shoot at you—if I did.
I was aimin' at an antelope. I've done
apologized. Caln’t do anything more,
can 17" he wheedled sulkily.
O'Hara slipped quletly forward snd
stepped down into the arroyo. The
young woman saw him first. She
stared at him, eyes wide with surprise,
Her expression warned the big man,
With unexpected swiftness he whirled,
the rifle Jumping to his hip.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The answer came smoothly and
easily: “I'm the antelope you shot at,
Mr. Sanderson.”
The big man glared at him. Shep
Sanderson was that unusual combina-
tion, a slow thinker and a fast shooter,
He had a one-track mind and had no
room in his brain for simultaneous
cross currents, Either Barbara Steel
man or this man was wrong. He had
fired only one shot. As his mind
functioned he knew, with considerable
relief, that it had been the stranger
at whom he had flung the bullet from
his rifle. The girl must have been in
the brush between him and the road.
What was she doing here, anyhow?
And how did this man know his name
was Sanderson? What was the best
thing to do now?
O'Hara lifted the hat from his head
with a bow to the young woman, She
caught sight of the holes in it and
her eyes dilated,
“Did he do that just
asked.
“Just
bullet.”
She felt the blood ebb from her heart
as she stared at him. Somehow, In the
rush of the moment, she had not been
afraid when she thought Sanderson
had fired at her. There had not been
time for fear. But now, with the evi-
dence that red tragedy had grazed so
near, stamped in the hat, she wus
shaken.
“Why did he do It?"
“That's what I've come to ask him"
The manner of the young man altered,
Brown eyes and volce were no longer
gentle. In his bearing was a certain
poised inflexibility. Yet did not
raise his voice or change his attitude,
The difference was of the spirit. “Why
pick on me as a target, Mr. San-
derson?”
“I don't know you, fellow,” Sander.
son growled.
“Which makes your greeting to me
all the stranger. Did you mistake me
for one of your friends? Or was it my
purse you fancied?”
The girl was puzzled at this young
man who had dropped down
them from the sky, as it were. “Ten-
derfoot” was written all over him.
Clothes, manner, bearing, personality,
all spoke of the city rather than the
range.
She spoke quickly.
Judge Warner?”
a question.
“No,” he replied.
She turned on Sanderson, and her
words almost leaped at him. “1 know
why you tried to kill this man. You
thought he was Judge Warner.”
Though he denied it in words, the
man stood convicted, There was con
fession in the blank, amazed look he
turned on her,
“Why, I—I— Nothin' to that" he
stammered. “1 done told you I shot
at an antelope.”
“Who Is paying you for this?" she
cried. “Who hired you to do murder to
prevent Judge Warner holdin’ court to-
morrow?’
Sharply she had flung out her ques
tions, but O'Hara noticed that the as-
surance had died out of her before
now?’ she
now, miss, with his little
he
upon
“You're not
The statement was
“Can't Do Anything More, Can 17”
He Wheedled Sulkily.
she finished speaking. Some thought
had occurred to: her that filled her
with fear,
“Tell you I shot at an antelope,”
the fellow insisted, shifting his feet
uneasily,
“A trained antelope, one riding a
horse,” suggested O'Hara,
Sanderson turned sullenly a shifty
eye to him, “Stranger man, you better
fork yore fuzzy an’ light out.”
“Or you'll send another blue whistler
at me,” the young man sald, brown
eves gleaming.
The girl spoke. She did not care to
see the issue pressed too far. San.
derson had a bad reputation, Talkin’
nbout his horse, Shep, where is It}
You'd better round it up for him.”
“Me?* The big man glared at
®
By
Willaim MacLeod Raine
Copyright by Willlam MacLeod Ralne
WNU Bervice
O'Hara. *I ain't been hired to wran-
gle for no tenderfoot.”
“Don't you think, since it was your
fault his horse got away, it would be
decent to—1"
“For this hombre?
Shep Sanderson.”
This seemed to be answer enough,
His cold shallow eyes, light as skim
milk, slid from O'Hara to Miss Steel-
man and back again, He moved away,
his face toward the younger man, till
he reached a dense clump of prickly
pear. Behind this he vanished.
The girl spoke, “First off, we better
get our horses.”
They found hers where she had left
it when she slipped from the saddle
to take refuge in the brush,
“We'll look for yours” she sald,
busying herself with a stirrup. She
was disturbed that he should find her
wearing leathers, using a man's sad-
dle. She wanted to explzin to him
that in such thorny chaparral one had
to wear leathers to protect the clothes
and flesh against cruel clutching
spikes, that she was no crazy tomboy
who raced around the country dressed
up like a man. But any approach to
the subject was embarrassing.
“We want to be careful,” the young
woman sald in a low volce., “He's a
bad crowd, Shep Sanderson Is. . . .
Which way did your horse go?”
They had reached the road. “There
it is, back of that prickly pear,” O'Hara
said. *I knew It wouldn't wander far.
Too tired.”
He reclaimed his horse
to the saddle.
“This way,” sald Miss Steelman, and
swung her mount deeper into the
chaparral,
For nearly half a mile she led the
man silently In and out among the
brush, Then she reined up to ride
beside him.
Disapprovingly, she looked at his
fancy boots. “They'll be ruined in all
this cactus,” she told him. “You have
to wear leathers In this country. It's
not a question of how you look.”
He understood that this was not so
much a criticism of him as a defense
of herself,
“Yes, miss. I can see it's better,
he agreed. “But I was expecting to
stick to the road when 1 started”™
“Started where from?”
“From Aurora.”
“For Concho?”
“Yes, miss”
She was still puzzled to place him
Though in the mountains, Concho was
in the heart of a cattle country. There
men talked cows, worked them, lived
them, [It was the basic occupation
upon which all others were dependent.
It was an easy guess that this stran-
ger had never ridden out the stampede
of a trail herd. Yes, tenderfoot was
sure enough the word for him,
She had a feeling that he was
headed for trouble quite unconsciously
and that he was poorly equipped to
meet it. The combination of ignorance
and courage Is not a good one, not In
a hard country like this Into which
he was riding.
He volunteered Information timidly,
“My name is Garrett O'Hara. Iam a
lawyer.”
“A lawyer!
Concho as one
party.”
“I'm going to live there”
She drew up ber horse and looked
at him in surprise, “Live there! What
are you going to do?”
“Practice law."
“In Concho." A mouthful
teeth flashed in laughter,
“Don’t you think I'd make a good
lawyer?" he asked, too shy to let her
comment pass unanswered,
“1 don't know. But why
Who wants a Inwyer there?”
“Prosperous town, isn't jt?
“Yes.”
“Then there must be business there
-cattle, contracts, real estate, innds.”
Me? Say, I'm
and swung
Oh, you're going to
of Judge
of white
Concho?
“Who do you
gent for you?
Abruptly she asked:
know there? Who
Whose man are you?”
It was the last query that snagged
his attention.
“What do
am 17"
She did not answer that. Her reply
was wholly unexpected. “Better turn
round and ride back to Aurora to-
morrow."
His eyes flashed Interest, and some.
thing more than that, “Why, if the
court please?”
“It's not your
she sald.
“What kind of a country It is, where
men shoot at strangers because they
may be law officers?”
She flushed, “It's a
country, of its own kind.
Sanderson is a low-down
can't judge folks by him."
“I hope not, though I think you sug-
gested that some one hired him.”
“1 don't know whether anyone
or not,” she responded, and
ticed that at the thought her face
clonded again,
Her next remark seemed to bear no
relation to what had gone before,
“Do you know Dave Ingram?
my father, Wesley Steelman?”
“No, miss.”
Apparently
of abrupt
you carry!
you mean, whose man
kind of a country,”
good enough
That Shep
killer. You
did
he no-
Or
she
wins a
transitions,
Youn;
“That
Can you use it?"
“Hogleg?
“Six-shooter, gald
“Do you earry it for show?"
“Mostly,” he admitted. “I killed a
rattlesnake with it today.”
“Can you shoot?"
“I can hit a
enough.”
”
she impatiently.
barn If I am
near
“Could you hit a man who was firing
at you?
“Don’t thin
%
k
“Then don’t
ghinin'
g0. I'd hate to try."
carry it. You'll he a
mark for some one to bump
you off.”
“Do what
“Shoot you.
to me?
I'd throw it away
play I was a preacher while 1 stayed
You'll
town is full of hard men, quick on the
shoot, That's they difi-
and
at Concho, be safe then, The
how settle
culties”
what
he said drily.
“Don't you understand?”
“Men make thelr own law.
it In a holster by thelr side
trouble is hrewing--a lot of it.
a feud Among such men a
yer's arguments wouldn't last a
minute, back where
from.™
“I'd say Concho needed was
law”
she cried.
They carry
Just now
There's
on law-
Go you came
He shook his head. “I'm headed for
Concho, miss. ™
She threw up a hand with a
that waved aside responsibility. “All
right, It's none of my business, any-
how. I'm interferin’ where I shouldn
“I'm sorry you want to hand me
hat before I've really started to
on your country.” he said.
gesture
“Anwhow, look the ground over he.
fore you decide to Talk
Steve Worrall, Say [ sent you
in the freight business. You'll
him at the Longhorn corral.”
“I'll do that,” he promised,
“Steve has a lot of horse sense, and
you can trust him.”
They had left the road and swung
to the right. At the summit of a long
climb Miss Steelman drew up her horse.
“Our ways part
“Take that trail to
about five miles to town.
come to a creek go right
That's
miss the road.”
He hesitated, trying to find
to thank her for her kindness
knew the color was driving
face, the effect of shyness. A quota.
tion from “Fane Shore” came to his
mind, and he blurted It out:
with
He's
find
stay.
here”
the
she said
left. It's
When you
through It
You can't
Squaw Crossing.
words
He
into his
. Your bounty Is beyond my speak-
ing
though my mouth be dumb,
heart shall thank you.
But my
She flashed a quick look at him,
gave a short Iaugh, and took the hill
trail
Why had she made so much of warn.
ing him against staying at Concho?
Meet Mr. Wat Chant Alur Bopiter,
two inches of forked and flailing
lightning, famed fighting minnow of
Kiam. This ferocious though diminu-
tive fish lay Immersed in a bowl In
the New York aquarium, the object
of admiration of a huge crowd, accord-
ing to an report In Time, the News
magazine,
In Siam, fish fighting occuples much
the same place that cock fighting once
did in the United States. In each
of Bangkok's ten halls there are sev
eral tables about which are grouped
seats for spectators. When the audi-
ence 1s ready, two bowls, each con
taining a contestant, are placed on the
table, A fight Is guaranteed If they
charge at one another and pump their
noses on the intervening glass, The
betting commissioner books bets, the
limit being $44, The two fish are then
dumped into one big bowl together.
They charge furiously, first ripping off
ench other's ruby-red ventral fins. Next
to go is the red top fin, while fre.
quently they bite off chunks of side
ment, drawing blood. With good fish
a fight will last for six hours. Un-
pedigreed ones are exhausted In 15
minutes, After a fish has lost a bat-
tle he is bred no more but spends his
declining days training small fry,
Trainer fish constantly have thelr
bodies mutilated as do United States
fisticuff trainers, Their advantage
over the United States equivalents:
they can regenerate broken parts.
Famous Police Quarters
Scotland Yard in London derives its
name from the palace, which from
the time of Edgar to Henry II was
assigned for the residence of Scottish
kings whenever they visited that city.
Seotland Yard In London is the head
quarters of the Metropolitan police
force. The first police office was lo
cated In Whitehall in Scotland Yard
and from there removed in the au-
tumn of 1800 to the new building on
the Thames embankment, now known
as New Scotland Yard, in which all
the branches of the Metropolitan po-
lice force, Including the famous crimi-
nal investigation department, are lo-
cated.
lodine Human Need
Observation has shown that occa.
sional visits to the seashore render
people practically immune from goitre,
Sea spray blown Inland jodizes the
soll, the plants, and to some extent
the air, Marine foods, such as oysters
and fish, contain lodine in useful quan
tities,
What was this mystery at which she
hinted, one which made it unsafe for
him, an insignificant stranger, to prac-
tice his profession in the town? No
doubt he would find out soon enough.
A steep trall dropped like a crooked
rope down the mountain side to a vil-
lage which nestled at its foot. As he
descended he could see that Concho
had one business street. From it, up
draws and hollows, two or three wind-
ing roads started tentatively toward
the adobe houses that formed the resi-
dence section,
O'Hara drew up in front of the Con-
cho house and tled
snubbing post. With saddlebags over
arm the young man mounted the
porch steps and walked into the adobe
hotel,
Three
the
back,
heels
his sorrel to a
his
or four men were seated in
office, chairs comfortably tilted
One of them was talking, his
resting on a drum stove that
He Found a Well, a Tin Wash
Basin and a Dirty Towel.
had not been lit for many months,
He continued to tall, Neither he nor
any of the others pald the least atten-
tion to the entrance of the stranger.
“Is the proprietor in?" O'Hara as
“1 run this shebang.”
“Can | a room?
“1 reckon you
wheres”
“Woul
it is?
“Go
the right.
second room.
of them
s It's
”
house
— -
get
can get a
you mind showing me
I'd like to wash”
that
There's
You
unless some
down passage an” to
beds
roost
four
can one
quawks an’
his, basin bac
the His host
cluded, he returned to unfinished busi-
duties as
[ess
O'Hara headed down long hall
toward the bedroom of which he was
to be part occupant.
cots he dropped the saddiebags, after
dusting them with a guony sack which
he found in one corner of the room,
Back of the house he found a well,
a tin wash basin, and a dirty towel,
He finished washing just in time to
answer the supper bell,
It was characteristic of
O'Hara that he did not call at
Steve Worrall at the Longhorn
corral. He wanted first to get his own
impressions of the town. As much as
he had seen of the place fascinated
him. It was raw and crude, but the
yeast of young and exuberant life
worked in it
If it had not been wild
and untamed he would have been dis
the
1 pon one of the
Garrett
ance
on
i
appointed.
He wandered up the street and his
haphazard footsteps took him toward
a sound of A Mexican baile
was in He paid the price
of admission and stepped inside. A
lithe, bright-eyed girl was doing a fan.
dango with a young fellow in Spanish
costume. O'Hara watched the scene
eagerly. This was the sort of thing
he had come West to see. It had color,
the charm of the unusual,
There came a disturbance at the
door, disputing volces, an irruption of
men, not Mexicans. There were four
of them, and at the head of the group
one whom O'Hara at once recognized,
the fellow whom he had met that
afternoon, Shep Sanderson. They
were intoxicated, primed for trouble.
Thg Mexicans drew back, scowling at
them,
O'Hara took one quick look around
the room. There was no way out ex-
cept by the front door unless he
climbed through a window, His re-
volver was at the hotel in his saddie-
bags. He grinned, a foolish little
smile. Probably he was in for a very
unpleasant experience, to put the case
mildly.
As yet Sanderson had not seen him
The fellow had seized hold of a girl
and was dancing with her much against
her will. The natives shouted pro-
tests and muttered oaths of anger,
but they were not prepared for active
resistance,
The music stopped when Sanderson
was close to O'Hara, The big man did
not trouble to see that his partner
reached her seat. He dropped her at
once from his mind.
“Feed me a cigarette, feilow,” he or.
dered, and then Soticed to whom he
was talking. “By ecripes, it's the
tenderfoot.”
O'Hara felt his blood quicken. Dan.
ger always had that effect upon him,
“At your service,” he replied.
“Who invited you to this tendejon?”
the man demanded.
(TO BR CONTINUED.)
music.
progress,
To be a
Healthy Woman
watch your Bowels!
What should women keep
their bowels moving freely? A doc-
tor should know the answer, That
is why pure Syrup Pepsin is so
good for women, Jt just suits their
delicate ism. It is the pre-
geription old family doctor
who has treated thousands of woms-
en patients, and who made a gpe-
cial study of bowel troubles,
Dr. Caldwell's Syrup Pepsin is
made from fresh, laxative herbs,
pure pepsin and other harmless in-
gredients. ft or
weaken you. Wo of
or diet are while
it, But its action {8 thor-
It carries off the sour bi'e
and poisonous waste, It does every-
thing you want it to do. It is Ane
for children, They its
taste, Let them have it every time
their tongues are coated or 7Tueir
skin is saliow.
When you've a sick headache, can't
eat, are bilious or sluggish; end at
the times when you are most apt to
be constipated, take a little of this
famous prescription (all
keep it ready in big bottles),
you'll know Pr.
Syrup Pepsin is the
ative of
do to
org
ia
of an
doesn't sicken
restrictions
necessary
too. love
druggists
»
why aldwell’s
favorite lax-
over a million worven!
r
Dr. W. B. Cartowert's
SYRUP PEPSIN
A Doctors Family Laxative
Goal Attained
I started out on the theory
world has an opening for me.
Null
that the
Vold—And you found it?
Null—-Well, rather.
Charchman.
FOR
CONSTIPA
Pe int sma
SAFE SCIENTIFIC
Huh!
Blinks—That real
knows his
Jinks—Yes he knows jots
much else.
COULD NOT DO
HER CLEANING
Feels Much Stronger After
Taking Lydia E. Pinkham'’s
Vegetable Compouna
Lankin, North Dakota. —“For nearly
four years I was not in good health. My
work is cleaning
house and I work
outside too and
sometimes I could
“A not do it. I read
in the newspapers
about Lydia E,
Pinkham’s Vege-
table Compound
and I have taken
three bottles of
this medicine. I
“dl am feeling a lot
Sl ldbetter and
recommend it. You may use this letter
as a testimonial ”"—Thnim TrRENDA,
R. F. D, #2, Lankin, North Dakota.
This Medicine Is Sold in Both
Liquid and Tablet Form
Majority Here in America
Sixty per cent of the English.
speaking people of the world live In
the United States.
esiate agent
business,
but not
Won't Kill Livestock, Poultry,
Dogs, Casts, or even Baby Chicks
K-RO ean be used about the home, barn of pou
try yard with absolute safety as it contains me
deadly poison, K-R-O is made of Bqulll, as rec
ommended by U.S. Dept. of Agriculinre under
the Connable process which insures maximum
strength. Two sans killed 578 rate st Arkances
State Farm. Husdreds of other ter
Sold en a Money-Back Guarantee.
Insist upon K R-O, the original Seuill exterai.
nator. All d raggists, 75¢, Large size Uour times
we much) £2.00, Direct if dealer cannot
you K-RO Co, Springfield, O
KILLS-RATS-ONLY