© Alan Le May WNU Service CHAPTER Al-Contizued He was trying to guess who the second man could be. Vaguely he was thinking of the green eyes of Rufe Deane, watching Marian as she testified against the Bender fac- tion at the Inspiration hearing. He knew that there was nothing behind the embittered man which would prevent his firing upon the girl—if a reason for such an act could be conceived. But still he could think of no explanation for the firing of that other distant gun. Abruptly he turned and went back to the fire. Marian was sitting up trying to press the redness from her eyes; she seemed steady again. “Sorry," she said. “I’ve got to go on up the canyon,” he told her. “1 thought you said Magoon wouldn't stop there, now.” He told her, shortly, of the dis- tant report of the gun. “But who could it be?” “l don't know. But—I've got to go up and see.” “I'm ready to start,” Marian said. “Ready—1?"' “I'm going to go where you go.” He considered a moment. She looked tired, and there was a long hour of rough travel between them and the hidden cabin. But he sup- posed she would not want to try to wander back through the dark alone nor could he, against her will, leave her to imagine horrors in the dark. The hard twist of his mouth turned a shade more grim. “Very well,” he said. “But you're going to be a little tired before the night's over, I'm afraid.” “lI don't care anything about that.” To a tired rider a trail can unroll interminably ahead; much worse is a trail on foot, forever upward into increasing dark. To a walker ac- customed to the saddle one mile seems ten. It could not have been more than three miles to the ancient shack at the head of the gulch, but they climbed continually and the twist of the dry stream lengthened the miles. He knew that often Mar- ian was trying to conceal from him i high air. It must have seemed to the girl that she plodded and stum- bled all night long through that up- | hill sand, while Wheeler's long stride led out relentlessly. She could not know how much he slowed his pace for her. The broad canyon narrowed and | steepened until it was a twisting | gorge between vast black walls. The | going became steeper, and the sand | shelves ended; the dead stream was | an interminable staircase of ledges and tumbles of rock. They had traveled an intermina- ble time before Wheeler whispered | to her, “We've got to be quieter | now." And still they went on, climb- | ing a long way. | He was moving slowly and very cautiously when at last he turned | off and worked his way up a gravel- | ly slide of stone; then forward through twisting juniper that clung to the steep land. He stopped, gripped her shoulder, thrust her downward to her knees. “What—""' He stopped her whisper with a | quick hand over her mouth: but directly ahead, not a dozen paces away, she was answeréd by the sud- den long snort of a pony. He was peering through the juniper; her eyes followed his, straining in the canyon’'s black shadows. What he was looking at took form in the darkness, and without moving seemed to appear suddenly all at once. With a shock she saw that they were not fifteen steps away from a small ruined shanty set hard against an overhanging wall of stone. The shack at the head of the gulch was windowless, and its door was open into blackness. Beside it, tied some yards apart, were the horse which had snorted, and a second | animal that might have been either a horse or a mule. Wheeler backed away, drawing her after him, foot by foot. Fifty yards away in the shelter of the rocks he made her sit down. No sound came from above except the uneasy shifting of the ponies’ feet; and Wheeler permitted himself a deep breath of relief. She could hardly hear his whisper in the dark: “l didn't remember it was so close.” “Is he there?” “Someone’s there, or the horses would be gone. Wait here.” Slowly Wheeler made his way up- ward again over the rocks, through the juniper scrub. Walking upright, but very quietly, he circled and ap- proached along the rock wall, until his hands found the side of the cabin itself. He pressed n ear against the rough timber, and listened for long minutes. But he could hear nothing, not even the drawing of a breath. He took out his knife and cut a plume of brush. Standing close against the corner of the cabin he struck a match and set the brush | aflame. He swung an arm around the corner of the cabin and threw th» "ghted brush through the open 3 Crouching low, he moved ten paces from the cabin and circled slowly, watching the lighted door- way. He could see the blazing brush on the cabin’s floor of hard-packed earth, and no hand moved to put it out. Behind the flame the cabin’'s interior was barren; he made out an ancient brush jacket hung against the wall, the three-legged ruin of a crude table, the black shadow of a bunk. Someone was here—should be here; but if the fugitive had been in the cabin he would have thrown a blanket over that torch by now. Wheeler won- dered if the man was behind him, or drawing a bead on him from above. As he circled a high-heeled boot came into view upon the cabin floor. That boot was unnatural; it was ly- ing on its side, yet not on its side— tilted up a little upon its toe. When he saw that, something turned over inside Wheeler, for he knew what was in the cabin. He straightened up and walked to the door, stepped inside quickly and flattened himself against a wall, The flickering flame of the brush was lower now, but by what was left of its light he was looking, for the first time in his life, at the face of Lon Magoon. Magoon had fallen forward; there was a rifle under him, and it was at the cock. But i X i “Well, You Must Hav~ Mistaken Your Man.” it was not in his hands, for his arms were folde body. he knew that Lon Magoon had died and Bob Flagg. The 94, lightless and silent under the low-swinging moon, appeared deserted as Marian Dunn and Billy Wheeler trotted in, riding the horse and the mule they had found at Magoon's cabin. “You go on in, Marian. I'll take care of your horse." Marian said in a small voice, “Is everyone gone from here?” No need to remind her that the sheriff must certainly have come and gone, and taken Horse Dunn with him, by now. *“It must be after midnight,” he said. “Whoever is here must have turned in.” She walked off toward the silent house. It would not have surprised him if they had found themselves entirely alone; but by the time he had finished tossing hay to their animals he heard the murmur of voices, and, following Marian, he found her talking to Old Man Cof- larly on a low step, the coal of his pipe glowing and dying out again at slow intervals. ‘Marian tells me you caught up with Lon Magoon.” “We found him, all right.” “How was he killed?" “With a shotgun; same as the rest.” “lI was kind of looking for that,” Coffee said. “Lucky, though, that you stumbled onto it so quick.” Marian sat down on the step be- side Old Man Coffee. “Why were you looking for it?" she demanded. “Well-" Coffee paused and seemed to consider—‘'kind of hard to say. One thing, I've been to Pahranagat since I seen you. I didn’t tell you I was going there, but I had a kind of hunch, and so I went. And I got trace of Bob Flagg there at Pahranazat. Seems like he was coming ic the 94 by kind of a back way; and at Pahranagat he run into Lon Magoon. He bought or borried a cheap horse and a worn out saddle from Magoon, and they rode out of Pahranagat together, Begins to look like Lon Magoon was a witness to the killing of Bob Flagg.” “But how do you know,” Marian said, “that Magoon himself didn’t kill Flagg?” ‘*Well—these killings being done with a shotgun is kind of unusual; it makes you think the same killer attended to all three. And it's easy to see, too, how Magoon might have been a kind of a distant witness. Suppose Magoon was riding along with Flagg, who didn't know him very well. Pretty soon Magoon sees some local cowman coming toward them. Magoon doesn’t want to fall in with any local cowman, on ac- count of the business he's in. He splits off and kind of hovers in the distance. In a case like that, him not getting out of sight soon enough would just be suicide for him. Who- ever killed Flagg would figure he had to kill Magoon before he talked.” “Did you see Val Douglas at Pah- ranagat?”’ “No, he wasn't there when I was. But he’s been back here, tonight, since I been here. He said Pahran- agat was where he was, Well, I don’t know; I didn't see him there. And according to him he couldn't get any trace of Bob Flagg.” “Is he here now?" “He pulled right out again. No- body's here, but me and that old woman that cooks. She claims the sheriff come in and took Horse Dunn to Inspiration, about an hour before 1 got here. Tulare Callahan come in with Horse; they was pretty much worried over where you was, Marian. Tulare saddled up again and rode out to see if he could find out where you had went. Later Steve Hurley come in, and he's gone looking for you too. So naturally Val Douglas, he figured he'd have to make as good a showing as any- body did, and he hightailed. So now the whole 94 is out hunting for you-— what of 'em isn’t in jail.” ‘““Men make me so mad!" Marian declared. ‘I have a good notion to go riding out looking for them, now, just to make the picture of idiocy complete!” go and do that, child.” “Coffee,” Billy said, "one other at Marian the other night—he took ; another try." “Damn!” said Coffee. close?" “Killed her horse. and let my own pony get loose, and { he stampeded. Later we had to come back on a mule Magoon had tied up, and a horse he stole from the 94." Old Man Coffee turned slowly and for a few moments studied Mari- an's face. “Uh huh,” he said at last. “He come There was a silence. “What do | you think of it?" Marian said. “I think,” said Coffee, ‘“you bet- | ter turn in.” Marian rose slowly. “I suppose you're right—I've made enough trouble for one day, haven't 17" When she was gone Billy Wheeler took her place on the step beside Old Man Coffee. “Well, we're slow- ly learning a thing or two,” he said. “God knows where this thing leads to; but it ought to lead some place pretty soon." Old Man Coffee knocked out his pipe, refilled it again, and struck a new light. In the flare of the match his bony old face looked more grim and more sardonic than ever. “It ain't going to lead me no place. It's led me far enough. I'm through.” Wheeler did not argue this. Twice before Coffee had made such hollow threats; he did not believe the old lion hunter would actually withdraw now. “One thing I didn't tell you about Bob Flagg,” Coffee said. “I sup- pose you got a right to what I know. Well—here's a little item that's a peach! Flagg—he bummed his way into Pahranagat in an empty cow car." Wheeler was astounded. “You sure must be wrong,” he declared. “Why, that sounds crazy! He and Dunn had just sold out the Arizona ranch, at Dunn's order. Dunn's share was the biggest, and of course they couldn't get but part cash but there was fifty thousand ready mon- ey mixed into the deal. Flagg didn’t have any reason for coming in any such way as that!” ‘““He done it, though. It was right hard for me to find anybody that knew he'd been there at all. Sure seems like Flagg was taking every way he could think of to get to the it was kind of peculiar that Flagg should come by way of Pahranagat, which is kind of like sliding in the back door. Still, that wouldn't mean anything by itself; some of us old guys get used to thinking in terms of saddle work. But this other thing -—it's queer.” “Well, you must have mistaken your man!" “No, 1 didn't.” Wheeler turned thoughtful, they were silent for some minutes. A dark and ugly reason for Flagg's peculiar behavior was taking shape. “Do you suppose Lon Magoon could have been a spy, sent to Pah- ranagat to watch for Bob Flagg?” “A spy for who?" “A spy for the men that set out to kill Flagg. We know who the ene- mies of the 94 are. Link Bender— Pinto Halliday—Rufe Dean-—even Sam Caldwell—there isn't a one of them that would have hesitated to shoot a man down, if it meant wip- ing out the 84. We know that those people, or some of them, got access to Horse Dunn's mail at Inspiration. We can figure they knew that the Arizona outfit was sold, and that Flagg was on the way here with the money-—money that the 84 had to have to pull through." “I had that figured out long ago," Coffee said. *'I figured Cayuse Cay- etano was the cat's paw for Link Jender. Even after Cayetano was killed him so he wouldn't turn state's evidence.” “But you don't think that now?" “N said Coffee, “I don't Now," “Throw out the death of Cayuse." Wheeler suggested. “Say that he was killed simply because he was too hot on the trail. Throw out the death of Magoon—say that he was feared as a distant witness. It turns back to the enemies of the 04." “Which includes everybody,” Cof- fee snorted. “Coffee, have you found out some- thing you're holding back?” Wheel- er asked. Coffee shook his head. “You know everything I know so far as I can think." “Then you have some way of read- ing the facts—some way different from what I've got.” “Maybe. I've quit bothering my head about it." “Hell! You'll never make me think that you're going to pull out of this case and leave it unsolved.” “There's just one thing about this case,” Coffee admitted, “that I sure hate to leave mixed up. How come old Rock and me to get mixed up about the trail of the killer horse? I s’'pose all the rest of my life—"' Old Man Coffee's voice was bitter— “I'll never get away from wonder- ing how come I lost that trail.” “Of course, if I remember right. ly,” Wheeler reminded him, “you figured out from the way the shot went into the saddle that the man on the so-called killer horse was not the killer.” “That ain't important. The man on the killer horse took and hid the body, anyway. Two men or one— comes to the same thing. Catch one and you catch both.” (TO BE CONTINUED) Old Man Altitude still holds a de- cided edge over the fountain pen manufacturers, according to an offi- cial of an airline corporation. The challenge of high altitudes has been accepted by at least two of the largest pen designers in the world, and to date the decision has always gone to the rarefied air. De- spite the best efforts of pen manu- facturers over a period of several years, fountain pens still insist on discharging ink on people who are careless in opening them above 5,000 feet. ‘ In the early days of air transpor- tation, when the problem was still outside the case. As the pen is car- ried aloft the outside air pressure decreases while that within the pen remains the same. The result is constant pressure within the pen tending to force the ink out—in spurts whenever the passage is im- perfect. Aggravating the situation is the fact that present - day transport planes operate at altitudes almost invariably above 8,000 feet whereas the old-time transports seldom ex- ceeded 5,000 feet except in unusual weather or wind conditions. Many people have thrown away perfectly good pens under these cir- cumstances, convinced they had in some way been ruined, but it's only altitude. When There Were No Dukes Between the years of 1572 and 1623 there were no dukes in our peerage, says London Answers Mag- azine. In the former year, Queen Elizabeth executed the remaining two, while James I revived the title the latter year for the benefit in of his favorite, George Villiers, who became of Se ol ny that glows 18ing over the other. shade. shade. wire frame. The outside I: next. This is and bottom anc Keller. { Matthews. dise on earth that it has now. Grey Barnard. | in the outside covering need not | be sewed but may be hidden un- {der the folds. This material is | sewed in place as at E. Next, cut a straight strip for the and fit it around the out- hown here at F. Trim the j« wing a seam as shown at G. Sew to the {| frame at the bottom as at H. Trim quite close at the bottom. Turn lining to inside as at I. Slip stitch the joining. Turn in raw edges at top and whip around top of frame. Pin the | binding around and then sew it with stitches buried in the mesh | of the braid. Every Homemaker shoul FPR AE ee a copy of Mrs. § Spears’ | SEWING. Forty-eigl step-by-step directions | slipcovers rest : | couches: ery type | Making lampshades mans and other for the home. Readers » ~opy should send name 3 ss, enclosing 25 cent 210 South Desplaine Illinois, CARDUI wonderfully worth while can be done for practically every woman who suffers from functional pains of menstruation. Certain cases can be relieved by taking Cardel. Others { may need a physician's treatment. Cardul has two widely demon | strated uses: (1) To ease the im- | mediate pain and nervousness of | the monthly period: and (2) to aid { in building up the whole system by | helping women to get more strength i from their food. By Fred Neher rd - »
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers