© Alan Le May
WNU Service
SYNOPEI3
Billy Wheeler, wealthy young cattleman,
arrives at the 94 ranch, summoned by his
friend Horse Dunn, its elderly snd quick:
tempered owner, because of a mysterious
murder. Billy is in Jove 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
his cow hands, Val Douglas. Tulare
Callahan and others to search for the kill
er's horse. He explains to Billy that the
morning before he had come upon blood
stained 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
disappeared. Link Bender had arrived at the
scene and read the signs the way he had
Dunn reveals 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 traller, 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 supernaturally, cattle attracted to
the scene by the blood-stained ground
stamp out all the traces. Dunn is angered
when Amos tells him not to leave the coun
ty. Following an argument, Bender draws
his gun, but Dunn wounds him in the arm
Back at the ranch Old Man Coffee arrives,
with a pack of hounds Coffee goes In
search of the dedd man's saddle. Dunn tells
Billy that Marian is incensed at him for try
ing to settle disputes by bloodshed He re
veals that the ranch is really hers, also that
he recently sold his own ranch in Arizona
and that his partner. Bob Flagg. is en routs
with the money Billy accompanies Mariar
on a ride to Short Creek. "Kid" Bender
now a deputy, rides up. They have an argu
ment and by a trick Bender tries to shoot
him Billy saves himself by plunging
against Bender's pony and “the Kid" is in
jured. Coffee returns to the ranch with the
saddle and reveals that Cayuse Cayetano is
on the trali for Sheriff Amos The saddle
belonged to Lon Magoon. a small-time cat
tie thief. Billy learns he is to be arrested for
assaulting "Kid"' Bender.
“l am looking at it. Seems like
to me, Horse, the game is a little
different from that. He may be
laying off of you because his crowd
has a little different plan for you.
I'l say right here, this sure makes
it look to me like they must have
a case against you on the murder of
Lon Magoon—a case we maybe can
begin worrying about.”
“Then why do they turn and jump
on Billy Wheeler?”
“It might be oecause Billy
Wheeler is kind of strong as a cat-
tleman. I'm speaking of bank
strength. 1 don't know anything
about how Billy Wheeler stands in
this mess. But it may be they think
he might work out as an ace card
in patching up the finances of the 94.
That being the case, naturally
they'd like nothing better than to
set him aside to cool for 30 days.
A man can't read his facts unless
he looks a little into the people situ-
ation. It sure begins to look.” said
Old Man Coffee, ‘as if I'm going to
have to go to Inspiration for this
trial.”
“No,” said Horse Dunn. “Be-
cause there isn't going to be any
trial.”
Marian Dunn said sharply, “What
do you mean?”
For once Horse Dunn failed to
wilt before the flare-up of his niece.
“1 won't stand for it,” he declared
“I've stood enough! They'll take
Billy Wheeler no place.”
“l think,” Marian Dunn said.
“‘you must be mad!”
“Mad, is it? Mad or no mad, the
coyote pack will never take Billy
Wheeler in.”
‘““There’s this about it, Mr. Dunn,
Val Douglas drawled. “We're com.
ing up against bigger things here
than an open fight over whether or
not this Wheeler will stand up and
take his medicine for busting the
Kid's leg. After all, there's some
thing in wnat your niece says. Tu
lare says that tonight or tomorrow
Amos can raise up a posse of a
hundred. We'd look good trying to
bronc-stomp a hundred men.”
Horse Dunn bellowed, “You stand
there and tell me—""
Billy Wheeler cut in. “He's right,
Horse.”
“What?”
Billy Wheeler looked Val Douglas
over coolly. “Val doesn’t strike me
like a feller that would be right
very often,” he said at last. “But
this ought to raise his percentage,
1 guess. I'm going to leave 'em
take me, Horse.”
“You'll do nothing of the kind,”
Horse Dunn told him. “I'm boss
herel”
Billy Wheeler sprawled relaxed,
as if he were resting, and met
Dunn's glare evenly. If the others
there dic not understand why the
Old Man of the 94 tur.ed to this
youngster more readily than to any
one else in time“of need, they could
have learned something about that
by looking at them now.
“l don’t know as you can stop
me, Horse,” Wheeler said.
The day was hardly breaking
when Sheriff Walt Amos came ham-
mering at the door.
CHAPTER V
The sherifi came alone, without
show of force. Wheeler's surrender
he outwardly took as a matter of
though a close observer
have detected a certain
It was neariy six in the morning
as they rolled down' the dusty ruts
toward the first test of strength
since the killing at Short Creek.
Three cars drove to Inspiration, for
Billy Wheeler had reserved certain
rrivileges of free action; and the
sheriff returned to Inspiration alone
in his own car, as he had come. A
second car was driven by Horse
Dunn, who took with him Gil Baker,
Steve Hurley, and Tulare Callahan;
and—what seemed more important
—Marian Dunn, between Val Doug-
las and her huge uncle in the front
seat. The Old Man of the 94 was
possessed by a vague persistent
hope that somewhere, some time,
Marian would see something which
would change her opinions as to the
balance of force and justice in the
Red Hills ranges.
Old Man Coffee rode with Billy
Wheeler, who drove his own road-
ster.
“There in that one car,” said Cof-
{ee, watching Horse Dunn's tower of
dust, ‘goes all that's left of the 94
outfit; except for you and me, who
don’t really belong here.”
Billy Wheeler nodded. “I couldn't
hardly believe,” he said, “that
Horse was trying % run 20,000 head
of cattle, even through the quiet
months, with only four nen and
himself.”
“He's got 20,000 head, has he?”
“The book count shows 20,000
head. Allowing for death losses, he
supposes he’s got 14 to 16 thousand.
Short-handed as he is, he can't be
right sure.”
“I've seen the day,” Old Man Cot-
fee said, *‘two, three years ago,
“For One Thing—Magoon Wasn't
Killed by No Man on a Horse!”
when the 94 bunkhouse never held
less than 12 or 15 hands. And in
roundup times I've seen better than
50 riders follow the 94 wagons, But
[ guess those days mse gone.”
Coffee suggested that Horse Dune
was getting old. “It's hard for us
cid fellows to bend to new ways of
nandling cows—or men. But Horse
Dunn might just as well zet ready to
realize he has to. He's forced his
way for a long time; but comes @
time when he can't force it no
more."
“And that,” Wheeler said, “is
what we've got to save him from.
For God knows he'll never bow his
head! It's up to you, more'n any-
body.”
“Don’t count on me.”
That was Old Man Coffee's atti
tude. Because of his uncommon
sixth sense in handling a trail and
because of his widely heard-of luck
in making shrewd deductions, Old
Man Coffee had been called in on
many a mystery killing in the inter-
mountain country. But though he
worked hard without cost to any-
one, he stubbornly avoided an offi.
cial responsibility. “I got nothing
to do with it.” That was the Coffee
theme song on a murder case.
But now he added, “Something's
wrong. When I first looked at this
case I thought it war open and shut.
But something's the matter with
this case. Somebody knows some
thing they're not telling me.”
Billy Wheeler waited, but the in-
formation which silence would have
brought from most men was long
in coming.
“People in this country is goin
to the dogs,” Coffee complies
“Take you. Your old father had a
pair of eyes that cor’d find out
devil
£af
“It was fired from in front of him,
a little to his right-hand side, by a
man on a horse.”
“What else?”
“The shell was home-loaded. And
that's all I know, yet.”
Old Man Coffee was regarding
Wheeler with a peculiar fixed ex-
pression. “Son,” he said at last,
“lI back down; I'm free to admit I
had you wrong. You're further
along the trail than most of ‘em.
You got the shotgun right, at least.
I suppose you seen that one shot
pellet bogged into the seam of the
leather on Lon Magoon's saddle
horn?"
“Yes: 1 saw it.”
“That little pellet is pretty well
hid. I guess nobody saw it but you
and me. But the rest of your dope’s
wrong. For one thing — Magoon
wasn't killed by no man on a
horse!”
“How do you know that?"
“How did you know the shell was
home-loaded?”
‘Because the charge was weak.
The sign showed the horses was
close together when the shot was
fired. If the charge hadn't been
weak that pellet of lead would have
plowed a whole lot deeper than it
did.”
Old Man Coffee nodded approval.
“A good catch,” he said. “But I
think you got it wrong. If the charge
had been fired from close like you
say, the killer could have rammed
the long shotgun barrel plumb
against Magoon — there wouldn't
have been no shot in the saddle
horn. It was distance slowed that
pellet. Lon Magoon was shot by a
third man, from up on the flat
ground above the cut!”
“Seems like,” Wheeler objected,
“the trail of the third man should
have showed up, somewhere about.”
“Maybe; if it had been read prop
er before the cattle pawed out the
sign. But—there’'s one man mixed
into this that knows too much about
trails to have left one himself—even
if he'd been there.” They fell si-
them in big spasms and gouts of
dust; and far ahead presently
showed the faint disturbance on the
plain which was Inspiration.
Inspiration consisted principally
of a main street, backed by a few
score houses, some of them neatly
painted, with a wee or two; many
simply unpainted shacks,
To a stranger the town would not
have seemed so full of people as
Tulare Callahan's report perhaps
suggested. But Billy Wheeler at
once recognized a dozen or more
cars which mould not ordinarily
have been there, and about an equal
number of dozing cow ponies. And
—a8 the 84 cars pulled up in front
of the little frame building that
housed the county office—Wheeler
noticed a small inconspicuous stir in
doorways, a too casual moving to-
gether of spur-heeled loungers at
two or three places along the street.
Billy Wheeler caught Horse
Dunn’s signal as he slid his roadster
to a stop. He stepped down from
the wheel and walked forward to
Dunn's car.
“We want to all kind of keep to
gether, here, as we move into this.”
Horse Dunn said casually. “I don’t
think there's going to be any trou
ble of any kind. Still—-I wish Bob
Flagg had got here. There aren't
so many of us as there has been
some years.”
The sheriff pulled up and stepped
to the sidewalk.
“Court won't open yet for a little
bit,” he said. “You, Wheeler, park
yourself around here close. You're
lucky not to be in the lock-up, by
God! You, Dunn, I'll speak to you
inside. I've got a couple of ques
tions I figure to ask.”
“All right,” Horse Dunn said.
“Come on, folks."
“The rest of you stay outside,”
Sheriff Amos said. ‘You're the one
I aim to talk to, Dunn.”
Horse Dunn looked up and down
the street, noting how the groups of
booted loungers had grown. Hardly
a doorway in that street was empty
now. Wheeler saw Dunn run a quick
glance along the second story win-
dows across the street. Dunn turned
to his car, relaxed, casual.
“Marian, take this here car
wait there, until someone brings
word."
ly, at her uncle, then once more, al-
dust as she obeyed.
mildness to the sheriff. “I don't fig-
would hear.”
The Old Man of the 94 stood
square-planted-—smiling a little, al-
most bland; but the confidence of a
lifelong dominance was in the easy
set of his enormous shoulders, so
that he seemed then bigger than the
town, bigger thas the range.
what he was up against. Abruptly
he burst out, “I decide these things
here!”
The mild mask fell away. “Then
give your orders to people you can
boss,” Dunn snarled at him.
Walt Amos sized up the situation,
then stood for a moment with a
blank face. Then--the young sheriff
grinned, not sheepishly, and not irri-
tably, but with the interested hu-
mor of a man who plays his own
game against another's.
“Oh, all right, Dunn,” he said; “1
don't set any great store on that
point. I haven't got any of my fel-
lers with me—1I don't need "em; but
maybe you need some. Bring 'em
oni"
In effect, Horse Dunn had backed
Sheriff Walt Amos down; but Horse
admitted afterward that it was here,
in the backdown, that the young
sheriff had first commanded his re-
spect. He grunted an assent. “Billy
Wheeler, Coffee—come on.”
The others moved forward, but
he waved them back; and Dunn,
with Wheeler and Coffee, followed
Amos into the little old adobe that
held the sheriff's office.
“Dunn,” said Sheriff Amos, “you
were the first man found out there'd
been a killing at Short Crick. That
was Tuesday—three days ago. Right
off you sent Tulare Callahan here,
to wire Old Man Coffee, clear
around at McTarnahan. Dunn, why
did you send for Old Man Coffee?”
“1 sent for Old Man Coffee,” said
Dunn, “to find out who was making
free on my range. To tell you the
truth, I didn't figure you numbskulils
was equal to handling it."
“Then it wasn’t your idea,” sald
the sheriff, “to get him here to seize
and suppress evidence?”
“When I want to seize some-
thing,” Horse Dunn told him, “I
won't be sending for some old guy
the other side of two ranges of
mountains. I'l just seize it.”
“Where were you ritling Monday,
Dunn?”
“Monday 1 was riding Red Sleep
Ridge.”
“And when," the sheriff shot at
him, “did you first learn that Lon
Magoon was camping on 94 range?”
Horse Dunn did not hesitate for
a fraction of a second. “Yesterday
—when Old Man Coffee found Ma-
goon's saddle.”
The sheriff's smooth, cornerless
face tightened a little, but Billy
Wheeler saw that the man was not
surprised. Instantly Wheeler knew
two things. First, that one of the
Inspiration crowd — perhaps with
field glasses—must have seen Cof-
fee pick the saddle up. And second,
what was equally important, that
tracing out the de
and had identified it as belonging
to the little cow thief, Magoon.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
This may come as something of
a disappointment tc monkeys, but
it now appears that the human race
did not descend from an ape, but
from a fish, writes a New York
United Press correspondent.
And if all goes well, man's own
to
a gathering of 150 learned men
at Columbia university, by Dr
AAA A AA AAAANAR
STAR
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Movie » Radio
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326 2 2 2 2 26 2 2 2 2
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é6”J HE Prisoner of Zenda”
threatens to become ev-
erybody’s favorite picture. Girls
love it because it is tenderly ro-
mantic, boys are crazy about it
because it is a thrilling adven-
the court scenes. Of course, the
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Cutwork That Is
Anything but Work
“Cutwork without bars?” Ex-
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Hollywood had a lot of surprises
that sent all the girls
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Anatol
eloped with
the director,
Litvak,
Be
)
Tony Martin rushed
Yuma, Ariz.
got married,
gious differences
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off to
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Catholic. h
To make
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Mr. Litvak, Miss Hopkins’ new
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Claudette Colbert in “Tonight's Our
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one over there will ever forget hi
In a scene that took place in a
market he insi aving real
geese, turkeys, an The
hot sun got in its ork and
going
hold.
vr
» studio
had to replace every
few but all attempts to use
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and refused to work until real ones
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hours,
I
Claudette Colbert's good humor
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en
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When a speaker abuses mankind
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because they know somebody else
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rid, and the
writ)
Wil
Laugh at the w
world will laugh you
You don’t have to fool all of the
people all of the time. A majority
of one is enough.
out of the Warner studio and went
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but Fd
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new picture of his to
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Three of the songs
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son Wom
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