The Centre reporter. (Centre Hall, Pa.) 1871-1940, November 27, 1930, Image 3

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    William
4
THE STORY
Garrett O'Hara, young lawyer,
on his way to practice at Con-
cho, wild western town, is shot
at from ambush. He hears the
desperado who fired the shot,
Shep Sanderson, talking to Bare
bara Steelman, who thought the
shot was directed at her,
rett's resemblance to Judge
Warner convinces Barbara that
Sanderson fired at Garrett think.
ing he was Warner. She advises
Garrett not to go to Concho, cen
ter of a big cattle war, He in-
sists. She tells him to see Steve
Worrall,
Gar-
CHAPTER I—-Continued
mint oan
“Are you the floormaster, Mr. San-
derson?’ Though he knew it was not
safe, O'Hara could not keep a touch
of jauntiness out of his retort.
The bad man's shallow eyes, a
washed-out blue In color, narrowed to
points of savage cruelty, He had
found a safe object upon which to ex-
pend his venom,
“Sa-ay, pilgrim, don't get funny with
me. It ain't supposed to be safe, 1
aim to fix yore clock right now. After
I've worked you over for a spell you
hive off for parts unknown an’ don't
never let me see you again.”
“Or you'll shoot straighter than you
did this afternoon,” suggested O'Hara.
“Youn don’t have to get on the prod
with me, fellow. I'm startin’ to clean
up on you right now.”
A prize fighter had once given Gar-
rett O'llara six rules for rough-and-
tumble fighting. He forgot the last
five but remembered the first. It was
to carry the attack rather than to
walt for It. Now he reached for his
foe's outcropping ears, gripped
them tightly, and jerked the unkempt
head toward him. With all the force
©f his well-muscled arms O'Hara thrust
back the head of the helpless giant,
then leaped on him, twining his legs
back of Sanderson's stocky ones, His
feet moved up and down, swiftly and
savagely.
The bully let out a yell
“Take him off!
killin® me.”
The dancers had pressed back from
the fighting area. They stared at the
entwined men, amazed at Sanderson's
«cry for help. For the stranger's hands
stiil clung to the flapping ears. It was
<ertain that he had not knifed the big
man, Nor had he shot him. Why,
then, was Sanderson bellowing like a
frightened calf?
O'Hara feit a hand clutch his shirt
and coat collar just back of the neck
He was snatched violently away from
Sanderson and flung up against the
wall of the room. A hard, low volce
asked a question, not of him but of
his antagonist.
“What you blattin' about, Shep?
This little fellow's only a mouthful for
you. Get yore hand away from
that gun.”
A man had come Into the room. He
wore a blue flannel shirt, a broad-
brimmed soft gray hat, an open vest,
and po coat. His trousers were stuffed
into the tops of high-heeled cowboy's
boots. To the casual glance he was
mot a large man, certainly not com
pared with the bulky Sanderson. But
he was powerfully bullt from the mus-
<ular slope of the neck down, and he
carried himself as one having aun-
thority. The light blue eyes were cool
and flinty.
Reluctantly, Sanderson's hand fell
away from the butt of the .44 which
hung at his side. He glanced at the
newcomer. The urge struggled in him
to defy the man, to wipe out with one
swift lift of the arm and crook of the
forefinger the tenderfoot who had dis-
comfited him. But he was listening to
his master's voice. He knew Dave
Ingram too well to set himself against
Lim,
The big bully looked down at the
thighs of his legs. From them the
trousers had been ripped and blood
was dripping into the boots.
“His spurs roweled me,” Sanderson
sputtered.
“Quite some,” agreed the other drily.
He turned to O'Hara, studying him for
a moment. That he was a tenderfoot
was palpable, yet he was wearing
Mexican wheel spurs with long cruel
rowels, a note In his costuming that
seemed wholly incongruous,
O'Hara interpreted the question In
the glance. “I bought them of a cow-
boy in Aurora who was hard up. He
sald they would be useful.”
“He was right,” agreed Ingram,
smiling. “Good for man or beast.”
“I'll get this pilgrim right one o
these days,” Sanderson cut In vin.
dictively,
“Very likely, but not now,” his mas.
ter said,
To Ingram a Mexican noured out a
wift protest of flowing vowels, Other
hatives joined in, with much impul-
sive gesticulation. The cattle man
listened, nodded, made answer In rapid
and crisp Spanish. He turned to his
henchmen.
“What Jd'you mean comin’ here an’
breakin’ up the baile?’ he demanded
masterfully. “D'you want all the Mex.
leans against us, right at this time
when we've got war enough on our
hands? What's the matter with Pete's
‘Pamdise or the Gold Nugget? Can't
you raise enough cain in them without
big
of pain,
Take him off! He's
comin' here?
out i
Ingram's volce was like the crack of
a whip. The men to whom he spoke
were hard fighting men, two of them
at least “warriors” from Texas Im-
ported because they were known kill-
ers, but they had not a word to say
for themselves except muttered ex-
cuses, sullen but restrained. They
laughed to make the best of it and
went swaggering out of the building.
Sanderson whispered a word In his
chief's ear before he left,
Garrett O'Hara had a capacity for
hero worship. Looking at this bronzed
Westerner, whose word had sent these
rufflans trooping from the room, he
recognized a leader of great force,
strong, iron willed, master of himself
as well as others.
“I'm In your debt, sir,” the tender-
foot said.
“Who are you? Where d'you come
from?” Ingram asked brusquely.
O'Hara told him.
“Here on business?"
“Expecting to settle somewhere In
this country. Looking for a location.
I'm a lawyer.”
“A lawyer!”
pressed surprise,
“Yes, sir. Some one recommended
Concho.”
There was a moment of full silence
before Ingram spoke. “Come and see
me at the store tomorrow-—early,” he
ordered, then turned on his heel and
walked out.
CHAPTER II
Get outa here an’ stay
Ingram's volce ex-
“My Name Is O'Hara”
Garrett O'Hara walked slowly back
to the Concho house. His thoughts
raced excitedly as he tried to reduce
them to order. Luck had certainly
been with him, or he could not have
escaped with any credit from a hand-
to-hand scuffle with Shep Sanderson.
He had been very fortunate, too, that
Dave Ingram had come at the nick
of time,
Who was this Ingram? Beyond
question, he was important in the com-
munity, Judging by what he had
heard at the hotel, the man was the
owner of the Diamond Tall, or at
least the manager of It. Also, he
seemed to be proprietor of a store In
town. He had sald to meet him there
next day, early, What hour was
“early” here? He had not conde.
scended to give him name or mention
the location of the store. Evidently
he expected people to know him, or if
not to find out who he was. There
was no doubt of his arrogance. It
was unconscious rather than assumed.
He had, to back it, good looks, a
forceful personality, probably wealth,
and no doubt power. One thing more
O'Hara knew about him. Very recent.
ily he had killed a man for reasons
unknown.
Decidedly, before keeping the ap-
pointment with Ingram it would be
well to find out more about him,
O'Hara did not turn in at the Concho
house but kept on down the street to
the Longhorn corral. Of an attendant,
a halif-grown boy, he inquired for Mr.
Stephen Worrall,
“1 dunno where he's at,” the wran-
gler answered. “He was here awhile
ago. Might try the Gold Nugget. He
bucks the tiger there sometimes”
O'Hara tried the Gold Nugget. A
young fellow pointed out Worrall to
O'Hara,
Worrall was a tall lanky man with
the look of the West stamped indelibly
on him, He was perhaps in his late
twenties. As he was turning away
from the wheel after cashing In his
chips O'Hara accosted him.
“You don't know me, Mr. Worrall
My name is O'Hara. I'm a stranger
here. This afternoon a young lady
made me promise to Introduce myself.”
“A young lady?" the lank man re-
peated,
“Miss Steeiman”™
Worrall took him by the arm. “We'll
get outa here” he sald, and guided
him toward the door. “I was leavin’,
anyhow. Picked up seventy-five bucks
at the wheel. Enough for one night.”
They walked down to the Longhorn
corral. Worrall asked his companion
when he had arrived, what kind of
trip he had had, and how he liked the
town ; but it was not until they were
seated In the little office at the corral
that he mentioned the name of the girl,
“Are you a friend of Miss Steel
man's?" he asked, oflering O'Hara a
cigar while he himself bit the end
from another,
“I can't claim that,” the tenderfoot
sald. “I met her today for the first
time. It was a question for a few
minutes which one of us had been
shot at.”
“What's that?" demanded Worrall,
a match burning In his hand.
“Just as I say.” O'Hara smiled. “1
had conclusive evidence to settle the
matter.” He picked up his hat from
the table and looked at the two holes
In it,
“You mean some fellow shot at you
an' hit yore hat?”
“Yes. To be definite,
derson.”
“Shep shot at you! Why?"
“That's what I came to have y~
tell me.”
“You don't know why?"
Shep San.
Copyright by
William MacLeod Raine
WNU Bervice
“No.”
“You an’ him had any row?"
“Not then. We'd never seen each
other. This evening we had a differ-
ence of opinion.”
“How d'you know it was Shep?”
“He admits it, Claims he thought
I was an antelope. That won't wash.”
Worrall groped in his waistcoat
pocket for another match. “Well, you
got some idea why he shot at you,
haven't you?”
“Miss Steelman had an Idea. She
told Sanderson he was trying to kill
Judge Warner and had mistaken me
for him."
The lank man whistled. “Great
jumpin’ horn’ toads! Could it be
that? You do kinda favor the judge.
About his size—an’ store clothes. What
did Shep say when she told him?”
“He denled it, but the way he denied
it was a confession. He had no time
to think up ® good lie, because she
was so quick «bout it. The fellow was
flabbergasted. Of course he stuck to
his antelope story.”
“What d'you mean about Miss Steel-
man being shot at?
“Perhaps I'd better tell
whole story.”
“All right. Hop to It." Worrall put
his boots on the table and tilted back
his chair.
He did not interrupt with a single
question until O'Hara had finished, but
there was at least one large one in his
mind. What was Barbara Steelman
doing on the edge of the flats so close
to the entrance of Box canyon? He
thought he knew the answer, but did
not want to belleve it.
“So Miss Steelman wanted you to go
back home where you come from?
An’ she wouldn't tell you why?"
“As I understand it, sent
here to ask you why."
“Maybeso.” The freighter rolled out
fat smoke rings and watched
them. “You been here only a few
hours. Likely you never heard of
Dave Ingram.”
O'Hara's answer came smilingly:
“Heard of him, met him, got an ap-
pointment to meet him tomorrow at
the store.”
The front legs of Worrall's chair
came sharply to the floor. Into the
long man's face had come an instant
wariness, A blank film had taken all
expression out of his eyes,
“Oh! You know Mr. Ingram.”
“Not exactly. I never heard of him
till today.”
“] see. You an' he are strangers,
but you jest happened to meet him
an’ get an appointment for tomorrow.”
The young lawyer knew he had
prejudiced his case and he tried to
set himself right.
He told the story of” the evening's
adventure. His account was a brief
and modest one, but the sallent fact
could not be obscured that he had
roughed it with Bully Sanderson and
had not come out second best.
“He yeliped for the boys to take you
off after you had climbed his frame,”
Worrall repeated incredulously.
“lI was tearing the flesh from his
thighs with my spurs,” explained the
lawyer. “He couldn't shake me off
and he couldn't stand the gaft.”
Worrall looked at this stranger,
shrewd eyes appraising him. “Mr.
O'Hara, I don't know you from Adam's
off ox,” he sald. “But If Miss Steel-
man sent you to me it goes as it lays.
That young lady Is fine as split silk,
an' that's all there is to that You
look like a right limber young fellow,
but you can't make Bully Sanderson
look like a pore plugged nickel an’ get
away with it. Seems to me like you've
tackled more'n you can ride herd on™
“Likely enough,” O'Hara agreed. *1
was lucky this time. But there's no
reason why he should hold a grudge
against me. I was only defending
myself.”
“Hmp! He's p'lson mean. That's
reason enough for him, You made
him look like a two-spot. One of these
days he'll get the deadwood on you
an’ do you a meanness, You can bank
on that, sure as h—I's hot. 1 know
that bird. He may lay off you right
now because Dave Ingram has given
orders. That won't mean he's forgot,
only that Dave is the big auger. Off-
hand, T'll bet you're no kind of a
hand with a six-shooter.”
“You win the watch on that bet”
O'Hara admitted.
“My advice is for you to cut dirt
back to the land of marshals, cala-
booses, an’ plug hats”
“I think I'm going to like It here,
Mr. Worrall”
“You're liable to rue yore decision If
you stay. By the way, what's yore
line, Mr. O'Hara?
“I'm a lawyer.”
“A lawyer. QGreat jumpin’ horn’
toads!” A thought stabbed the West.
erner and brought his alert attention
to another phase of the matter.
“That's why Dave Ingram told you to
come see him. Young fellow, if 1
knew where you were at!"
“I'm a total stranger, as I told you
before. Until today I never met an
soul in this neck of the woods. I've
had no correspondence with anyone.
My purpose in coming was to find a
good town to hang out a shingle. Now
my cards are on the table, 1 came to
talk this over with you because 1
promised Miss Steelman I would. But
since you doubt me
you the
she me
some
Ke rose and picked up his hat,
“Don't push on yore reins,
O'Hara,” the freighter told him.
down, I'll tell you whatever you want
to know.”
Promptly, O'Hara tossed his hat on
the table and sat down. “I want to
know the inside polities of this town:
who Is fighting who and why, the rea-
son Shep Sanderson wanted to kill
Judge Warner, and the ground for
Miss Steelman's advice that I had bet-
ter not stay here to practice my pro-
feasion, That will do to begin with”
The crow's feet around Worrall's
eyes crinkled to mirth, “You're sure
enough a lawyer. Boy, If 1
those questions thorough you
need to ask any more.”
“I've got all night before me,”
lawyer sald.
Worrall made himself comfortable
by resting his weight on the lower end
if his spine and lie
talked,
“If you want it in one word, short
an’ sweet, that word Is ‘cows,’” Wor-
rall sald, “Cows are the cause of all
the trouble in this man's town.
clear back to the war. Down in Texas
them days cattle ran wild, unbranded.
All the men folks In the Confederate
army. Well, when they come home,
Heked an’ ragged, cows sure dotted
the landscape. In a way of speakin’
! -
Mr
nei
answer
won't
the
his shoulders.
Goes
“Mmp! He's Pllson Mean. That's
Reason Enough for Him."
they belonged to the fellow who threw
the widest loop. Many a herd got its
start in the next few months by real
industrious brandin' of mavericks.
Lots of cows, but no market for ‘em.
Last few years a market has been de-
veloping. Texas got crowded. The
boys an’ thelr herds began to emigrate.
Some pushed Into the San Marcos
valley. The one with the biggest herd
was old Wes Steelman. Right now,
today, he don’t begin to know how
many cows are carryin' the Hash-
knife brand.”
“I've heard of the Hashknife brand.
Didn't they use to call Steelman the
king of the San Marcos?
“Do yet,” Worrall nodded. “The
Lord sure blessed his herds an’ they
multiplied, if that's the way you want
to look at it. Some folks didn't see
it jest thataway. Other folks came
into the San Marcos, mostly In the
upper end of It an’ In the hills above
the valley. They were small cattle
men, what they call nesters. The
small cattle men drew together under
the leadership of Dave Ingram. Dave
owned the Diamond Tail, a right
numerous brand. If you listen to his
enemies Dave usta be one of that kind
of cow man that 1t would hurt his
health to eat a critter with his own
brand on it. You don't need to take
that at par value. They say the same
about every one who has got ahead
Dave can see_a dollar far as anyone.
He started a store at Concho an’ a
freight outfit. He got In with the
government officials an’ secured fat
beef contracts to supply the reserva.
tions, Small-fry nesters came to him
an’ he staked them. Dave got to be
about the king pin up here in the
mountains. What he sald went,
“Well, Wes Steelman wasn't any-
ways pleased at the way things were
shapin’. He had to go farther for
markets. His range began to get
crowded. Every which way he turned
some nester had squatted, an’ on top
of that was Dave Ingram hornin’ in
on his markets. Time for him to get
busy, he thought. So he started a
store in Concho with Patrick Me
Carthy as his pardner. Then he
bought out a fellow on Dead Horse
creek an’ stocked a ranch of his own
in the hills seventy miles above the
main one In the valley. Doth Dave
an’ Wes are what you might call ar
bitrary an' bullbheaded. There's no
compromise In either one of 'em, an’
thinks he ought to be chief,
Consequence is, trouble, It grew to a
Lead after a fellow called Shat Brown
was killed, Bhat was one of the III
hill ranchers up Jim Wilson creek an’
he was lined up with Ingram. You've
got to understand that while Ingram
an’ Steelman are major-domos, as you
might say, of thelr factions, they can't
ride herd on every ornery waddy that
trails along with them.”
“I think I see,” O'Hara sald drily.
“They reap the benefit of murder with-
out being responsible for it. A con-
venlent arrangement.”
“That's no word to use, not In this
country,” Worrall told him severely.
“If you alm to live long in the land
you'll have to get educated. When
folks have trouble out here they may
have a difliculty resultin’ in a shoot-
ing. I've been present at some kill-
ings, but that word of yours ain't
either discreet or polite. There are
some skunks it applies to, but we most
generally hang them to the end of a
propped-up wagon pole or a cotton-
wood.”
“I'll have to learn the technleal dif-
ferences In homicides,” the lawyer
sald.
Worrall detected a faint flavor of
irony In this remark. He dropped his
feet from the table and rested an arm
leaning forward toward his
each
guest,
“See here, young fellow, I'll offer
you advice free gratis, seeing as Miss
Steelman sent you to me an' seeing as
I kinda cotton to you anyhow.
yore mouth padiocked. Folks fight
here at the drop of the hat. Maybe
you got sand in yore craw. [I ain't
sayin' no. Worse for you If you have,
for you wouldn't last a split second
when some low-down bird smokes up.
Where was 1 at? After Shat Brown
got killed Ingram an’ his store pard
ner Tom Harvey began to bring in
Texans warriors. So did Steelman an’
McCarthy. I'm not tellin’ any secret
when [ say that right soon now some
one is gonna drop a match In a keg
of powder an’ our Hl" private war will
beg n to pop.”
“You menn-——
“I mean that If Shep
hadn't made a mistake In hi
day an’
L111
killed
Keep
had shot straighte
Judge Warner, the
ready have been in the fire”
“How does Judge Warner
into t?™
“Another long story In that, but the
upshot of it is that tomorrow he's ex
pected to make Wes Steelman admin
istrator of the estate of Jerry Hughes,
Jerry was a friend of Ingram’s an’ his
place is a sort of strategic point be
tween the Diamond Tall an’ the upper
Hashknife ranch. Poth Wes an’ Dave
want mighty bad to control it" Wor
rall added, to make the situation
clearer: “Dave stepped In an’ took
charge of the place when Jerry died
He'd hate to give it up”
«“So ns a simple way out he decided
to kill Judge Warner, an lonocent
party.”
“Judge Warner is known to be
friendly to the Steelman side, an® we
don't know that Dave knew a thing
about what Shep was aimin’ to do
Myself, I don’t hardly think he did
If you want to stay In Concho an’ be
Dave Ingram’'s man or Wes Steel
man's why hop to it an’ hang up yore
shingle. I wouldn't wish to insure
yore life, but that's neither here nor
there, as the fellow sald when his two
wives met an’ he lit out for the
chaparral.”
O'Hara rose. “If I hang out my
shingle I'll be by own man”
The long man grinned. “You'll have
a heap of time on yore hands to learn
yore Blackstone thorough,” he an.
swered,
“And you, Mr. Worrall? Do you
expect to sit on the fence and keep
out of this fight ™
“lI wish I knew,” Worrall answered
impulsively. “I'd lke to, but here's
where I'm at. Ingram an' Harvey
have got their own freight outfit. 1
haul for Steelman’s store an’ for pri-
vate parties. J.ooks to me like I'm
gonna be drug In whether I want to
or not, but you'll sure hear me yellin®
for a while that I'm an Innocent bhy-
stander.”
Imps of mischief kicked up their
heels in O'Hara's brown eyes. Hig
remark apparently had no connection
with anything that had gone before
“Yes, Miss Steelman is a very attrac
tive lady. As you say, If you're going
to be dragged In anyhow"
Worrall blushed beneath the tan
“Who said anything about Miss Steel
man 7"
The young lawyer fled, but he flung
a grin back at the “innocent by:
stander.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
come
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It is water that makes the engine
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One would like to know that witch
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