© Alan Le May WNU Service SYNOPSIS Billy Wheeler, wealthy young cattleman, arrives at the 94 ranch, summoned by his friend Horse Dunn, its elderly and quick- tempered owner, because of a mysterious murder. Billy is in love with Dunn's niece Marian, whom he has not seen for two years. She had rejected his suit and is still aloof. Dunn's ranch is surrounded by ene- mies, including Link Bender, Pinto Halliday and Sam Caldwell, whom he has defeated in his efforts to build a cattle kingdom. Dunn directs his cow hands, Val Douglas, Tulare Callahan and others to search for the killer's horse. He explains to Billy that the morn- ing before he had come upon bloodstained ground at Short Creek and found the trail of a shod and unshod horse. The shod horse's rider had been killed. The body had dis- appeared and no one was reported missing. Link Bender had arrived at the scene and read the signs the way he had. Dunn re. veals that because of a financial crisis the ranch may be in jeopardy; his enemies may make trouble since Sheriff Walt Amos is friendly with them. He says he has asked Old Man Coffee, the country’s best trailer, to Join them. Dunn and Billy meet Amos, Link Bender, his son “the Kid” and Cayuse Cayetano, an Indian trailer, at Short Creek. Bender has found the slain man's horse, but the saddle is missing. Almost supernatur- ally, cattle attracted to the scene by the blood-stained ground, stamp out all the traces. CHAPTER II—Continued —-—3 “The trail of the killer turned back from here,”” Dunn said. “It took to the crick. I tried to find where it come out of the crick. ‘There was too many horse tracks from the range stock: I never found where it come out. While I was trying to trail it, Link Bender com by and I hailed him. After I showed him what I found he took off after the dead man's horse.” There was a long pause. all you fellers got to show?" sheriff said at last. “That's all,”” Dunn said. Link Bender nodded. trail of the dead feller's horse,” he said shortly. “I swung wide and found the horse further on, but I never seen the saddle.” The sheriff sat his horse for al- most a full minute, as if in thought. He seemed about to speak, then ap- parently thought better of it. Si- lently he led back the way they had come. They were nearly back to Chuck Box Wash before spoke. “This is a Dunn,” Amos “This the pretty bad thing, cowmen Dunn said dryly, “hc “Funny,” quick the word got round. They had come t their trails, where Dunn would tur westward toward his home They pulled up their horses. “Dunn,” the sheriff said, wasn't figuring to was you?’ "Amos," said Horse Dunn, “what you mean by tha The sheriff met his but without pleasure ask you not to leave the Dunn.” Horse Dunn was visibly angering. Suddenly Billy Wheeler remem- bered that Dunn was facing out something greater than two or three men on horses. Link Bender stood for a whole ring of half-whipped brands—the wolf ring, waiting hope- fully on its haunches: Sheriff Amos represented a county. Behind these men were numbers and strength— and against the many the Old Man of the 94 stood opposed as a power- ful thumb opposes the fingers of a hand. “And so,” Horse Dunn thundered, ““you take it on yourself to tell me where I'll go and come!” “There's plenty stuff has to be cleared up,” the sheriff said stub- bornly. ‘One thing, why was those two unknown fellers riding toward the home ranch of the 947" go any Yt eye directly, “T'll have to county, manded. “If they're like the aver- age run of the Red Hills, they was most likely looking for something to steal!” “All the more reason we have to know where you are,” the sheriff retorted. “If it’s a cow thief that's dead, who would shoot him on your range but you or one of your boys?” ‘Not one of my neighbors.” Horse Dunn let his eyes drift to Link Bender's face. ‘No, not them! They'd never make a move—unless it was to hand the feller his brand- er.” Instantly Link Bender said, ““What do you mean by that?” In the little moment before Horse Dunn's reply, Billy Wheeler glanced about him, noting the position of the men. Of them all, only Cayuse Caye- tano appeared to be unarmed. Link Bender sat alongside the sheriff, but separated from him by the led horse. Wheeler saw him exchange a quick glance with his son, who sat detached, a little to one side. With one spur Wheeler woke his pony, so that it moved sideways, nearer Kid Bender. No one noticed; their eyes were expressionless but intent upon Horse Dunn. Dunn had swung slowly in his saddle to face Link Bender. “My calf crop is short, is what I mean.” Watching Kid Bender, Wheeler did not gee Link make his play; but as Kid Bender's hand dropped to his holster, Wheeler knew that the Kid had taken his cue from Link, who in that instant must have gone for his gun. In the shock of action Wheeler forgot his own weapon, which he had never drawn on any man. He jumped his horse at Kid Bender, striking down on the Kid's gun hand with his quirt. The quirt whistled and bit; as he jerked it back Wheeler felt the gun come with it, tangled in the snap of the lash. In the same instant a gun roared behind him, and he whirled his po- ny. Horse muzzle of Dunn held the smoking his . gun skyward, and steadied his half-stampeded horse with his other hand. In his face was such a white blaze of fury as Wheeler had never seen. He was not roaring now; his words came through his teeth, hard-edged as broken rock. ‘I could have killed strangling. “And I'd have done it, if only—""' Link Bender sat straight up, his face the dusty gray-green of brush. Evidently he rode a gun- proof horse, for the reins hung slack on its neck, but it stood. Bender's left hand gripped his right arm: he swayed slightly, but recovered himself, and the color slowly began to come back into his face. Sheriff Amos empty away which it had dropped, hands be his reins. by a Link?" Link Bender said teeth, “Good enough.” “You go on home,” Walt Amos said to Dunn. his hand brought rom the plain His face was discolored red flush “You all seen in between set for this because I can’t prove you were first to draw. But" Dunn said, “You know damn well who was first to draw!” “Maybe I do and maybe I don't,” the sheriff said. “But let me tell you this, Dunn: you've just about run out your rope! By God, if ever a man overplayed his band, you've sure overplayed yours! You go on home, and see that you stay where you can be got, until you hear from me!” Horse Dunn grinned, showing his teeth. "I am home,” he answered. “You fellers are the visitors here. Set off easterly, and ride steady, and maybe in three-four hours you'll be off my range! I'd start at it, if I was you.” He moved off a little way into the scant shade of a Joshua stalk: then sat where he was. Presently, still sitting there, he watched them ride away, losing shape in the heat waves and the dust. Old Man Coffee surprised them all by coming in on a mule an hour after breakfast next morning. The Frying Pan Country from which he came was beyond the all but inac- cessible Tuscaroras, and to reach the 94 by road or narrow-gauge would have called fér nearly 800 miles of travel. Coffee, however, had apparently come by unsuspect- ed short cuts; and he had come fast and hard, to judge by the ribby and droop-lipped condition of his black mule. Marian Dunn had never seen an outfit like that of Old Man Coffee. Around the black mule as it shuffled to a stop, no less than six flop-eared dogs of a fox-hound type dropped to the ground. One of these, the lead- er, a big spotted hound with enor- mous jowls, wore a pack which seemed to contain a tightly-rolled blanket, a frying pan, and a coffee can with a hay-wire bale. Another, a grizzled ancient hound, astound- ed Marian because it was wearing deer-skin rock-moccasins, which looked to the girl as if the dog wore shoes—and socks. The mule’s saddle bore a high- power rifle, a pair of hobbles, a cowbell stuffed with leaves, and Old Man Coffee. The old lion hunter's face was of deep-seamed leather, from which deep-set eyes looked out penetratingly, but not unkindly., His faded blue work clothes were like those of the cow hands, but he wore flat-heeled shoes instead of half boots, and instead of the broad Stet- son of the cowboys, the mountain man wore slantwise on his bald head a battered hat of a narrow- brimmed, indiscriminate character. “Don’t you find riding a mule kind of slow?” Marian ventured. Coffee exchanged a brief glance with Horse Dunn. *‘Oh, sure,” he said; ‘‘but what's time to a mule?” “A mule makes mighty good time in the hills, with a good mountain man on him,” Horse explained to his niece. “See?” Marian glanced at her big old un- cle but didn’t answer. To the best of Wheeler's knowledge she hadn't spoken to Horse Dunn that morn- ing. Something had come between Horse Dunn and his niece, just since the day before. Horse had a baffled, apologetic look whenever he looked at her. It was wonderful how gen- seemed in the case of any- thing this slim, pale girl was mixed into. Old Man Coffee, Horse Dunn, and 3illy Wheeler sat in Horse Dunn's it over. Old Man Coffee came to shot who this “Well,” the point, “who time?" Old Man Coffee the curious circum- stance by which they knew, or sup- did, that a man was they He de- who he was. the cattle had now srased. Coffee nodded. Wheeler Billy trails which only dogs could find, did not question Horse Dunn's in- terpretation of the sign. “And since when,” Coffee in- quired, “do you get so stirred up Dunn told him. Dunn now tried to explain to Old Man Coffee why Link Bend- er’'s coyote ring could be counted on to make the most out of a mystery killing as a weapon against the 94: but Coffee interrupted | “1 take it, all you want me to id Old Man Coffee, “is what hag ed who, what for, and who done it. That cover it?" t now," “I isn't that,” ‘And where is the killer inn added Old rt i Man Coffee locked bony fin. gers behind his bald head, and sat staring out the wir w. “Who's been the ground?’ he suddenly de- Amos, the sheriff Link Bender. My cowboys here-—though I didn’t let them trample the sign. An In- dian deer hunter by the name of Cayuse Cayetano.” Coffee pricked up his ears at the last name. *‘Cayetano,” he repeat- ed. “How long has this Cayetano been over here?" “About two years, going on three. Had relatives among the Pintwater Piutes; they took him in.” “He used to be over in the Frying Pan Country,” Old Man Coffee said. “What a sweet character he is! Got run out of the Frying Pan by common consent. That was about a year after he beat up the Chinese girl. He" “Can he track?” ‘““He couldn't track a barrel of tar through a—"" Coffee stopped. He looked angry and disgruntled. “No,” he corrected himself, “that ain't so. He's a good tracker. He's bet- ter than that—he's a great track- er. Maybe the best I've ever seen.” “He's pretty good, is he?” asked Dunn. “I think he can smell a cold trail like a hound,” Coffee said grouchily, “and make a fool of the hound. Or maybe he just guesses. But I can tell you this—Cayuse Cayetano will go through this case a-whistling.” “What's the answer then?” ““Oh, I suppose I'll have to go out and take a look, and mess around, and make a fool of myself,” Old Man Coffee growled. “First thing, I'll get it all right—if Cayetano hasn't got it, already. After that I'll find out where "the killer's horse come out of the crick. That ought to be enough for one day; when I've done that I'll come home to sup- per.” “When you going? Now?” “Sure I'm going now. When did you suppose?’’ “We'll go with you as soon as you're ready to start. I" “The hell you will,” said Coffee. “I only got one dog that won't call me a fool if I tell him to trail a horse. That's old Rock, and he's funny. If he thinks people is watch- ing him he flourishes around trying to look smart, and don't get any- thing done. Give me one cowboy that's seen the ground-—one that'll come home when I send him. And you stay here.” “Oh, well,” bled, ‘‘suit yourself. victim in this case.” “Well, give me a horse, give me a horse—we going to sit here all day?" For once Horse Dunn did as he was told. Glumly he watched Old | Man Coffee go jogging out of the | layout, the black hound dogging it at the pony's heels. Horse Dunn grum- I'm only the “Will he find the saddle?’ Wheeler asked, “1 suppose 50,” said Horse Dunn gloomily. “But damnation! Much as it means to me, I pretty near hope he won't. The cocky old snort!” “1 guess I'll saddle a pony and take a look around here myself,” Wheeler said. “Wait a minute,” Horse Dunn said. “There's something different I want you to do.” Billy Wheeler waited, but Horse Dunn seemed to hesitate. ‘I wish.” he said at last, slowly, “I wish you'd talk to that girl.” Wheeler was startled. “Talk to her? About what, Horse?" “Well, I'll tell you,” Horse Dun: groped. “It's this way.” He hesi- tated; out among the barns could be heard the grief-stricken hull unds Coffee had loo of the ht behind. “You two had some kind of a out, didn’t you?' Wheeler asked. “You might call it that,” Horse Dunn shrugged. ‘She doesn’t un- derstand the way you have to han- dle things on this range. And now she's down on me for blasting Link Bender free of his gun.” Marian Dunn had been born in this house in which they now sat: she was the daughter of Horse Dunn's brother who had once run the 94. But her father had died when Marian was five years old, and, so far as Wheeler knew, Mar- jan Dunn had since visited the 94 but once in her life—two years ago, when she was eighteen. “Why, she can't hardly even be- lieve that this country is here,” Dunn continued. ‘They've taught her that the country is all settled up—and they're right. Only, they don’t understand this dry country, where a steer walks a rod for a blade of grass, and a hundred square miles supports one outfit. When they think of the West they think of some place like Montana, where you can fence a whole herd on five sections of grass and watch ‘em thrive. She can’t see her 94 as part and parcel of half a million miles of range." “Her 847" Wheeler questioned. Horse Dunn did not hear him. “I've fought this country since time out of mind. When you got ene mies in this country you've got to rough em and force em. If a man tries to smash you, you got to smash him first. She tells me we got law here to take care of that, nowdays. I tell you the law we got hasn't the teeth in it that ii had in the old days, even!” {TO BE CONTINUED) A safeguard for sleep walkers, ty- ing them to bed with intangible and almost invisible light beams instead of ropes or strips of bedcloths, has been devised by a British manu- facturer of photo-electric cells and similar devices, states a London corrospondent of the Chicago Trib- une. One or more light beams of dim blue or red light are directed across the bed from special lamps and re- flectors like miniature searchlights. These beams enter one or more light-sensitive cells, which give an electric current so long as the light beam enters them. If anything in- terrupts the light beam, even for a small fraction of a second, the electric signal ceases. This stoppage may be made to sound an alarm or to work any other kind of electric apparatus. When the sleeper retires this light beam system is switched on. If then the sleeper gets out of bed or even sits up in bed, his body must cut one or more of the light beams passing across the bed. This casts a shadow on the light-sensitive cells, stops for an instant the electric current from this device and sounds whatever kind of alarm that has been provided. In hospitals the device is sug- gested to watch over restless or de- lirious patients not attended con- tinually by a nurse. Any move of the patient to get out of bed instant- ly flashes a signal to the nurse in charge of the ward. For sleep walkers who want to break their habit or to guard against hurting themselves, the alarm may be arranged to ring a bell if the sleeper arises and thus to wake him up, to turn on the bed- room lights, to lock the door auto- matically, to call some other mem- ber of the family or to do anything else that may be desired to protect the sleeper, 1 Cobb Zhumks chou; Cures for Communism. ANTA MONICA, CALIF .—A certain rich man out here— rich but indulgent—got a letter from his heir, a sophomore at one of the big eastern colleges. The lad announced he had been converted to communism and was contributing to the cause, So what about it? The old wrote back: “Son, you have a perfect right to fol- low the dictates of your conscience. But as a consistent communist you nat- urally would not continue to live on the ill-gotten gains of a wicked money- grabber, Today I am cutting off your somewhat generous allowance. You will also vacate the luxurious apartment you now occupy because I'm not paying the rent of san longer, So go ahead. ! commune man Irvin 8. Cobb The Art of Listening. WE HAD a party at whict appeared what I may dumb Ms—San {offen Ogden Nash they're both there's a burst poetry while under contract- bing of the harp, no sounding of the lute. Cine- a's gain | loss. Maybe that explains made such good lis night. And isn't poets forth into creation’s ‘ they other listener a fen "ee 4 nterrupt- why teners the i rapt, 1 ours if Resurrecting Old Words. \A\/ HEN a word —eSpec ¥ 2 some wordsn out of his head gets too dog- nable. The same applies to old words which have been dis- interred from their forgotten tombs in the dictionary. I seem to see grave robbers prowling through the unabridged, starting in at “aard-vark™ which is an animal formerly common only to Africa but not frequently found in cross-word puzles; and working on through to “zythum.,” a very strong beer drunk by ancient tribes. I guess those old-timers imbibed co- piously of the brew and then named it. It doesn’t sound like the sort of word a dead sober party deliberate- ly would make up. Do you remember the run “in- trigued” had? 1 never got so sick of a word in my ife. And then along came ‘“‘provocative,” and it turned out to be a pest. People went around just looking for a chance to work ‘‘provocative’” into the conver sation. The only way to lick ‘em was to pretend to be deaf and dumb. And now the reigning favorite is “allergic.” Folks spout it every- where, whether they know what it means or not. I don't mind saying I'm getting awfully allergic to “al- lergic.”” There must be many others like me. - » - Campaign Books. EX us not cavil too much de. cause high pressure salesmen, working on commission, have been unloading upon the faithful, at fancy prices, the gift book put out by Washington headquarters to pay off campaign debts. In fact, 15 cents’ worth would cover practical- ly all the cavil I personally have used up in this connection. The result tends to prove the grat- ifying fact that, while more Demo- crats may not necessarily have learned how to read and write, ob- viously more of us have got money than formerly was the case when the Republicans were in power. Besides, think of what the strain would have been upon the poor post. man if the national committee had been stuck with all this bulk litera- ture and congressmen had started franking copies out to their constitu. ents with Uncle Sam paying the freight. To give you a further idea about this franking privilege, I may state that it was named for Frank, Jesse's brother—and you'll remem- ber how careless those James boys were with the Unig Sates mails! ©--WNU Service, Joweholl ® | ® Questions Use for Old Shaving Brush—A discarded shaving brush makes a splendid blacklead brush, as it penetrates parts which are diffi- cult to reach with an ordinary stove-brush. - - » Rhubarb Charlotte—Wash and stew rhubarb but not to breaking point. Fill dish alternately with rhubarb and sponge cake and cov- er with lemon jelly. Leave to set and serve with whipped cream. a» . * Eggs and Mushrooms—Put 2 ounces of fresh butter into a stew- pan; break over it 4 fresh eggs, nd add 3 spoonfuls chopped mushrooms, % teaspoonful salt, 1 saltspoonful ground white pepper. Stir the mixture wooden spoon over a clear fire until of a thickish and serve very hot on buttered toast. * » * Laundry Hint—Transfer left after a piece of is completed may before the article through in warm water by rub- bing gently with a piece of cotton wool i moistened with with a consistency, marks embroidery be taken out squeezed » = = When Dressmaking—Kee bottle of eucalyptus oil ha it removes oil from an wrap each in pack in carton. » ® a For Boiled Ham—When boilin ham add a small teacupful of vin- egar and a few cloves to the wa- ter. This will improve the flavor. If the 1] to cool in the water in which it was boiled it will | oweq Mother's Loving Heart WwW HAT memories we have o i FEY } io dela dia i€ & LD, Who thouoht “the wel 5 “hoose moth moih- '" I know he'll say er's loving heart Omar Randall. Remember This When You Need a Laxative It is better for you if your body keeps working as Nature intended. Food wastes after digestion should be eliminated every day. When you get constipated, take a dose or two of purely vegetable Black-Draught for prompt, refreshing relief. Thousands and thousands of men ang women like Black-Draught and keep ft always on hand, for use at the first sign of constipation. Have you tried f1? Se Gh A GOOD LAXATIVE So to Speak The girl who marries a man with money to burn makes a good match.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers