Cattle
14 i a g <1 o m
-\
By
,%■ %V
LE MAY
© Alan Le May j
WNU Service
J
/ CHAPTER VIII—Continued
? —10—
Behind Marian’s shadowed silhou
ette the window glass itself shat
tered, as if it had exploded inward;
out in the brush sounded the ringing
crack of a rifle. Then there was si
lence and the window against which
Marian had stood was empty except
for the lamp-lit gleam of its shat
tered glass.
Wheeler’s breath jerked in his
throat; he dropped to the ground
and raced for the house.
In the dark beside the shattered
window Douglas was holding the
girl in his arms, and though she
clung to him, Wheeler saw that the
wagon boss was holding her up. He
heard Douglas say, “Are you hurt?
Are you—”
Billy Wheeler cried out, “In God’s
name, Marian—”
Marian’s voice said shakily, “I'm
all right.”
“You hit?”
“No.”
"Get a gun!” said Vul Douglas
crazily. “We was standing here,
and somebody took a shot at—”
Wheeler turned and ran for the
bunk house. Half way he almost
crashed into Tulare Callahan.
“What’s up?”
“Get the boys out,” Wheeler told
him. “To hell with saddles, but
get ropes and guns. Somebody fired
into the layout—we’ve got to try to
stampede over him in the brush.”
1 Behind the 94 layout the buck
. brush stood ragged, much of it
shoulder high to a mounted man; in
its crooked brakes the hard sandy
ground showed barren in the light of
the near stars.
With some difficulty Billy Wheeler
restrained Gil Baker and Steve Hur
ley from spurring their ponies head
long into the brush, as if they were
trying to jump a bunch of steers.
“Stick together, move slow, and
keep stopping to listen,” Wheeler
f said. “That’s our only chance.”
They trailed into the bush slowly,
single file, Wheeler in the lead. He
had accidentally mounted a horse
that believed in ghosts and it moved
sidelong, stretching its nose warily
at the brush shadows, blowing long
uneasy whoofs. Repeatedly they
halted to sit listening.
For an hour they combed the dark
brush, alternately walking their
horses and listening.
Not until they came out at the
foot of a barren rise did they realize
that they had wandered almost a
mile from their starting point. When
you have seen one thicket of buck
brush by starlight you have seen
them all. They had pushed through
a hundred thickets, in which a man
could have hidden under the very
feet of their horses—yet in that mile
of country there were a thousand
thickets more. The riders were grim
and tight-mouthed.
Horse Dunn met them at the cor
rals. He had been prowling all over
the place, rifle on his arm. He
spoke low-voiced, but no one of them
I.*... 1
“I Don’t Believe He Knows a
Horse Track From a Hound’s
Ear/*
wou'.d have crossed him then, any
mor: than they would have fooled
with a 14-hand silvertip. His words
came out as hard as pieces of rock.
“Go on and turn in,” he told them.
“This is most likely all for tonight."
Once they were inside, Horse de
manded of Wheeler, “What the devil
got into Old Man Coffee?”
“Whatever it was got into him, it’s
going to cost us plenty.”
“I don't believe he knows a horse
track from a hound's ear,” Dunn
declared angrily. “He puts me in
mind of some old moss-horn—he
paws and blows and hollers, but
what’s he know about it when he
gets through? Nothing.”
“I’m not so sure,” Billy Wheeler
said.
“Name one thing he found out!”
“He figured out that the murdered
man was not Magoon.”
Horse snorted in disgust. "I don’t
believe it. Coffee thought he had to
say something, so he said the first
thing come into his head. Every
sign we got points to the fact that
Lon Magoon was killed, in his own
saddle, and on his own horse, and
at Short Crick.”
"I’m thinking now,” said Billy
Wheeler, "that we can prove that
one way or the other—right here
and now.”
“How?”
“We've still got his saddle,
haven't we?”
“It’s still under my bunk.”
“Let me see it.”
Horse Dunn stared at him irrita
bly for a moment, then picked up a
lamp with a jerk, and led the way to
the clean bare room in which he
lived. Bjf the yellow light of the
lamp the fine old saddles on their
racks against the wall glinted clean
ly from silverwork and steel. Dunn
sat down on a box and hooked his
elbows on the table behind him.
“Horse, how big a man is this
Lon Magoon? About my size?”
"Hell, no! Not by eight inches.
Little short wiry feller—put you in
mind of a grasshopper, or a flea."
Wheeler hauled out Magoon’s sad
dle. Billy measured the length of
the stirrup leather with his arm—
stirrup in armpit, fingers upon the
tree.
“I stand five-eleven,” Wheeler
said. “Yet these stirrups are too
long for me to ride. Horse, the
man that rode this saddle was over
six feet tall.”
Horse came across the room in
two strides and dropped to one knee
beside Billy. “Damn it, I know
that’s Magoon’s hull!”
“You mean it was Magoon’s hull.
You can see the short-rig bends
worn into the stirrup leathers. But
since then the leathers have been
let down long, and laced there with
rawhide whang.”
Horse Dunn measured the stirrup
leathers against his own arm. Then
he forked the saddle where it lay,
jamming his feet into the stirrups.
"Tall as me,” he breathed, unbe
lieving. He stared at the saddle in
credulously for several moments.
“Do you reckon,” he said at last,
“that infernal old lion hunter would
let down those stirrups, just to get
us balled up?”
“Look at the wear on the stirrup
leather. The saddle has been rid
den since the stirrups were let
down.”
Horse Dunn got up slowly and
went back to his seat on the box.
For a long time he sat staring at
the floor. When at last he drew a
deep breath and got up, his move
ments were those of a man pre
occupied.
He got out a roll of adhesive tape,
pulled off a boot and woolen sock,
and began to tape up the outside of
his ankle bone, which appeared to
be skinned. “I’ve got to take a
hammer to those spurs,” he said,
his mind on other things. “Seems
like they—”
“Horse—Coffee was right! The
man that died in this saddle was not
Lon Magoon.”
Suddenly Dunn stood up, a shag
gy towering figure, staring redly at
Billy Wheeler. “Then, in God’s
name, who’s dead?”
Wheeler regarded him without ex
pression. Within the hour, a shad
owy hunch had come over him. He
knew that he had no proof for the
thing that was in his mind; yet
somehow it stood clear and plain. He
went to the fireplace, and picked up
an old branding iron that had been
in use as a fire poker. He squatted
on his heels, and with this sooty iron
began to make marks on Dunn’s
clean-swept floor.
“Saying that the 94 is here,” he
said, marking a cross, "and Short
Crick over here; then hero lies that
broken badlands called the Red
Sleep. Seems to me there used to
be a trail across the Red Sleep,
leading over to Pahranagat.”
“Yes, sure. But—"
Horse Dunn waited; Billy Wheeler
studied the floor. “Where would a
man be coming from, passing over
Short Crick toward the 94? Maybe—
Pahranagat?”
“Could.” Horse admitted dubious
ly
“That little railroad spur ends
there."
“Sometimes,” Horse Dunn made
a sudden contribution, “Lon Ma
goon has shipped a few stolen beef
carcasses out of Pahranagat.”
Wheeler nodded. “From Pahran
agat the spur runs down the Little
Minto to Plumas, then—let me
see—”
“Cheat Creek, Monitor, Sikes
Crossing,” Dunn supplied; “and so
to the main stem.”
“And so to the main stem,”
Wheeler repeated. “And maybe an
old-timer, a saddle man, working to
ward the 94 by train, would figure
it was better to come by Pahrana
gat—and there pick up a horse?”
They were silent, and the back
ground of the outer night seemed
uncommonly still—perhaps because
Old Man Coffee’s hounds were gone.
“A saddle-minded man,” Wheeler
repeated, “coming from — say—
Flagstaff." He threw the branding
iron into the fireplace; it sent up a
puff of white ash, against the black
opening. "Horse, where was Bob
Flagg last heard from?”
Dunn’s voice came out thickly.
"Flagstaff,” he said.
CHAPTER IX
Horse Dunn sat relaxed, staring
morosely at the floor. In his eyes a
dark fire glowed. Wheeler wondered
what ugly and shadowy things the
old man was seeing. Perhaps,
Wheeler thought, he would not wish
to see in his life the like of what
Horse Dunn was seeing, as he sat
looking at the floor.
Finally Horse Dunn jerked to his
feet with an abrupt impatience.
"This is all pipe smoke,” he said.
“For a minute you threw me up in
the air with that bunk. But hell!
You figure Bob come here a way
no man would ever think of coming.
There’s better than a hundred mil
lion people in this country, and Bob
Flagg is one of ’em, so you figure
that maybe it was him got killed!”
“Well, we might anyway check
up at Pahranagat. There isn’t so
much travel up the Little Minto but
what we could find out if Bob Flagg
came that way.”
"I’ll send Val Douglas over there
tomorrow. I sure don’t aim to
leave any stone unturned. But if
a guess is an inch long, you sure
jumped a mile.”
“Maybe,” Wheeler admitted.
Horse Dunn took a turn of the
room and the fighting spirit that had
flared up in his eyes burned low
and smoky again. “This country’s
gone to hell in a handbasket. I’ve
never asked for any more than jus
tice, and I’ve dealt out nothing less.
But where can you get it now? A
man’s hands are tied. There was
more honesty in the old six-gun than
in a thousand courts of so-called
law. I’d give ’em their cock-eyed
country. I’d wash my hands of the
whole works, and good riddance—if
it wasn’t for the girl.”
It always came back to Marian.
The old man didn’t dare lose be
cause of what it meant to the girl;
he had labored for her too long, in
years that for any other man would
have been the twilight years of his
life.
She came before Wheeler’s eyes
now, between himself and Horse
Dunn, almost as clearly as if she
had really been in the room.
Dunn was saying, "Know what I’d
like to do? I’d like to cut out for the
Argentine. Where a man’s cows
have a chance to turn around, by
God. I’d—”
“Argentine, hell!” Billy exploded
at him. “If I’d been running this
outfit, this situation would never
have come up or started to come
up!”
“I suppose you’d have sold out,"
Dunn said, a hard edge on his voice.
“Maybe and maybe not But I
wouldn’t have gone cow crazy,
range crazy, until I couldn’t afford
to work my stock!”
Strangely, Horse did not anger.
Wheeler saw that the Old Man
thought his tirade was merely based
on youth and ignorance, which he
had seen in unlimited quantities be
fore.
“Maybe,” Dunn said now, “you’d
have kept the 94 a little one-horse
spread—in the best of shape. But
that ain’t the question now. We’re
where we are, and there’s no use
fighting over what went before.”
"I can save it yet,” Wheeler told
him rashly. “I can throw a hun
dred thousand into the 94.”
“I didn’t know you could swing
that much. You got it, Billy?”
“What I haven’t got of it—I can
get.”
Horse Dunn studied him, sadly, a
long time. “That’s an offer, is it?”
he said at last.
“On one condition. That you give
me a free hand, to hire, fire, buy
or sell, land or cattle, for three
years.”
“I believe,” said Dunn, “I’d even
do that.”
“It’s a deal, then?”
"No! You and me’ll never make a
deal like that!”
‘‘It's your out,” Wheeler told him,
"and it’s your only out. Let me
take the finance and the outfit—and
all the other ruction falls to pieces."
And now Horse Dunn's eyes
blazed again, and his voice crack
led. “You’ll never put a dime in
this brand!”
“It’s her brand.” Wheeler remind
ed him. “You willing to let it bust
up and go down, and the girl and
her mother without a cent?"
“Let 'er bust—before it ever
hangs on your dough!”
"But damnation—why?"
"You want to know why? I’ll tell
you why! Because you want that
girl! You want that girl—you think
I'm blind? But she don’t want you.
. » r. , »r TJ
“Isn’t This Pretty Early?
Couldn't You Sleep?”
I’d no sooner put her in your debt
than I’d sell her to you outright.
You’re only making the offer be
cause you’re in love with Marian.”
"You’re crazy! I’m making the
offer because I think I can come
out on it.”
"You want the girl,” Horse per
sisted.
“You old fool—” Wheeler held his
voice down—“do you think I’d ever
expect to get her that way? Do you
think I’d want her on the basis of—”
“Anyway, that’s all over and
done, two years back,” Wheeler lied,
“Once she could have had me body
and soul. But that’s all over. I
wouldn't tie myself up, not now, to
her or anyone else.”
“You lie,” said Horse calmly.
“Horse, if you'll let me take—”
“Never a dime of your money in
her brand,” Horse said with utter
finality.
Wheeler turned in that night feel
ing old and grim.
It was still dark as Billy Wheeler
let himself noiselessly into the cook
shack and lighted a lamp. He found
himself cold biscuits; and in a huge
pot on the back of the stove he found
bitter coffee above a banked fire.
He had about finished washing
down his cold biscuits when he was
annoyed to discover that another
early riser was about. Someone was
walking quietly toward the cook
shack. Hurriedly he blew out his
light, gulped down half a cup of
dregs, and let himself out of the
kitchen, anxious to be on his way
without conversation.
Then, rounding the corner of the
cook shack he almost ran into Mar
ian.
"Morning. Billy.” He saw that
she was wearing belted overalls and
boots.
“Isn’t this pretty early? Couldn’t
you sleep?”
(TO HE CONTINUED)
Azaleas of the South Imported From
France; Plant Brought From Toulouse
Azalea time in the deep South is
one of great joy and exquisite beau
ty, writes Annabella Neusbaum in
Nature Magazine. When the azale
as, evergreen shrubs of delicate
foliage, burst their buds, masses of
flowers cover the bush until, its fo
liage hidden, the entire plant is a
glowing mass of living color.
The gracious charm of old Mobile,
with her quaint old streets and spa
cious avenues lined with magnifi
cent century-old live oaks and mag
nolias, provides a perfect setting for
the azaleas and camellias. Today,
Mobile has a beautiful “Azalea
trail,” a road some fifteen miles
long that leads one through streets
literally banked with these flowers.
The plants range from two to twenty
feet in height, the reigning color be
ing a glorious deep pink.
The history of the azaleas is close
ly Interwoven with the romantic his
tory and tradition of the old South.
They came to the New World short
ly after Bienville founded Mobile in
1711. From old family records we
find that Francois Ludgere Diard,
native Mobilian and direct de
scendant of one of the original set
tlers, returned to France to visit
relatives in Toulouse. At the time
of his visit the azaleas of southern
France were blooming. He was so
impressed with their dazzling splen
dor that on his return to the New
World he brought home three vari
eties: a deep glowing pink known
today as Pride of Mobile; a laven
der-pink one, and a snowy-white
one. Today, gorgeous specimens of
these original plants can be soen
in the oldest gardens—some of them
perhaps a century and a half old,
20 feet high, and spreading out to a
diameter of 100 feet. Now they are
found all along the Gulf Co.ishfrom
Texas to Florida, up the Atlantic
seaboard to South Carol i
Plaids Outstanding in Fall Modes
By CHER IE NICHOLAS
I3UA1DS on autum.
style program? Wi
hope to tell you! Fact
is, the college-faring
and the school-going
(fromkindergarten to
high school agei girl
that fails to make a
right smart showing
of plaid in her fall
wardrobe simply is
not "in it when it comes to swank
in dress There’s no doubt about it.
colorful, youthful practical plaids fit
into the campus, the office and the
great outdoor scheme of things sim
ply perfect.
All sorts ot plaids are on the aut
umn fabric list from high-tone
dressy plaids of silk velvet and
handsome wool weaves down to the
most utilitarian, practical, washable
types—the kind that go bicycling
along dusty roads and then come
out "fresh as a daisy” after each
tubbing.
Bicycling is a fad so important
nowadays designers recognize they
must create fashions tuned to the
sport. The new sturdy washable
plaids are proving most likable for
outfits of this sort. The girl on the
“bike” as shown in the group illus
trated is fashionably and sensibly
frocked in a dependable completely
shrunk washable plaid that gives
this rider the look of being keenly
style-minded.
The schoolgirl centered in the
picture is likewise alertly fashion
conscious in that she also selects
plaid for her voguish blouse, and
it’s safe to say she will be getting a
lot of wear out of it besides enjoy
ing that feeling of confidence it
brings to be appropriately clad for
the occasion.
Another way to subscribe to the
plaid rage that is now featuring in
every phase of fashion is to wear
a true clan plaid skirt and necker
chief with your new fall sweater as
shown to the right in the group.
This most commendable outfit is
sure to prove an inspiration to the
schoolgirl. It was shown at a re
cent fall style clinic held in the
Merchandise Mart in Chicago.
Viewing the new fall fabrics one
becomes fully convinced that plaids
as a fashion “must" are definitely
here. It is interesting to note that
the more classic plaids are labeled
each with its. clan name Also the
many smart ways to wear plaids
makes them all the more intriguing
In enrolling as a plaid enthusiast
we suggest that you line your jacket
to match your plaid blouse, or wear
a plaid dress matched to the lining
of your coat, or top a pleated plaid
skirt with a bright velveteen jacket,
or enliven your fur coat or your
fleece coat with a stunning plaid lin
ing. They are showing in the stores
daring coats in forest green, radiant
autumn browns, and the very new
deep sapphire blue with bold plaid
linings in giddy contrast.
Plaid velvet dresses to wear un
der fur coats Is another outcome of
the present craze for plaids. You
can also find cunning jackets of
plaid velveteen. Some are bolero
versions with plaid belts to match.
If it is just a touch of plaid you
favor, buy a dozen or so of the
new plaid composition buttons and
let them go marching down the
front of your dark velveteen dress
or coat. You can get all sorts of
plaid accessories. There are en
sembles of beret, bag and belt
There are belt and triangle-scarf
sets to be had In plaid.
© Western Newspaper Union.
I BE PENCIL-SLIM
Hy CHEKIE NICHOLAS
. I——— '
this afternoon trock ot purple silk
jacquard was shown in a fashion pre
view (or the silk parade held in
New York which presented out
standing advance fashions created
by the foremost designers ol the
\ world. To be right up to the mark
j your new frock must feature the
penciJ-slim silhouette that fashion
demands this season, such as this
gown so correctly defines. The hand
| some firm silks ot quality kind that
| are so characteristically a product
of this season's looms have been
found ideal for achieving the new
pcncil-slim styling. Note the shirred
draping across the bust.
FASHION STRESSES
FABRIC ELEGANCE
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
Fabrics play a most important
part this year, and by their rich
ness explain the apparent simplicity
of the styles which are the great
est challenge to the dressmaker.
Velvets, lames, brocades, laces,
tulles are all in the picture.
Lace becomes a happy medium
for day dresses, almost severe in
their simplicity These may be re
tieved by rich belts, patent trim
mings. etc. Lighter laces in silk or
rayon are combined with a colored
fabric lining for day dresses or two
tones used in combination as Worth
t,„. done Lelong takes a heavy
white wool lace tor a nip-length
top ot a dress which ends in a sim
ple black velvet skirt, with four
rows ot the velvet used at the side
front from the high waistline to the
hip. Patou oilers rosepoint collars,
cull or bodice trim with severe
dresses—but real rose point Schiap
arelli makes lace ot gold cord for
three huge medallions on the top
per ot a two-piece effect black maro
pain. While dresses are simple in
effect, fantasy goes into the head
gear.
Novelties in fabrics include tweed
type lames and lace type prints.
Style Sobriety Stressed
for Chic Daytime Costume
At the height ot the vogue for ro
mantic fashions, mutinous mur
murs are echoing from the ranks ol
style leaders who favor simple gar
ments for wear before the sun goes
down.
‘Sobriety ot the best quality” is
the formula advanced by a leading
French couturiere as the prime req
uisite ot daytime chic.
‘Wear tailored suits and little
sweaters, ' she advises, ‘but have
them fitted by a good tailor and
made ot the finest wool. See that
each accessory is equally first
grade, for one inappropriate gadget
can spoil the entire costume ”
Inexpensive Fish Savory.—With
a smoked haddock, make this sav
ory fish dish. Remove the flesh
from the haddock, pick out skin
and bone, then chop the fish finely.
Season with a pinch of pepper,
and parsley and mix with a little
butter and two tablespoons of
milk. Stir over a gentle heat until
hot, add a few drops of lemon
juice, then serve on hot buttered
toast.
* * •
To Soften Sugar.—When brown,
sugar becomes hard or lumpy,
place it in a shallow pan in the
oven for a few minutes.
• • •
For the Seamstress. — Before
stitching heavy materials, like
khaki, duck or canvas, rub hard
soap over the hems and seams.
The needle will then penetrate the
material mor:; easily.
• • •
Salad Eggs.—Hard boil the re
quired number of eggs, then re
move the shells. Arrange the eggs
in a dish on a bed of fresh, crisp
lettuce leaves, then sprinkle with
mayonnaise and grated cheese.
Garnish with sliced tomatoes and
a ring of cucumber. Serve with
cheese straws or cheese-flavored
biscuits.
• • •
Discouraging Ants. — Prompt
disposal of garbage and other
waste materials around the home
will aid in the control of ants.
WNU Service.
How
Constipation
Causes Gas,
Nerve Pressure
When you are constipated two things hap
pen. FIRST: Wastes swell up the bowels and
press on nerves in the digestive tract. This
nerve pressure causes headaches, a dull, lasy
feeling, bilious spells, loss of appetite and dia
■mess. .SECOND: Partly digested food start*
to decay forming GAS, bringing on sour
stomach (acid indigestion), and neartbum.
bloating you up until you sometimes gasp for
breath.
Then you spend many miserable days. Yon
can't eat. You can't sleep. Your stomach la
■our. You feel tired out, grouchy and miser
able.
To cot the complete relief you seek yon
must do TWO things. 1. You must relieve
the GAS. 2. You must clear the bowels and
GET THAT PRESSURE OFF THE
NERVES. As soon as offending wastes ora
washed out you feel marvelously refreshed,
blues vanish, the world looks bright again.
There is only ons prnduot on the marked
that, gives you the DOUBLE ACTION you
need. It is ADLERIKA. This efficient car
minative cathartio relieves that awful GAS
at once. It often removes bowel congestion
in half an hour. No waiting for overnight
relief. Adlerika acts on the stomach and both
bowels. Ordinary laxatives act on the lower
bowel only.
Adlerika lias been recommended by many
doctors and druggists for 35 years. No grip
ing, no after effects. Just QUICK results.
Try Adlerika today. You’ll say you hava
never used such an efficient intestinal cleanser.
HOW LONG CAN A
THREE-QUARTER WIFE
HOLD HER HUSBAND?
YOU have to work at marriago
to moke a success of It. Mon
may bo selfish, unsympathetic,
but that's tho way they're made
and you might as well realise it.
Whon your bock aches and your
nerves scream, don't tako it out
on your husband. Ho can’t possibly
know how you fool.
For tlireo generations one woman
lias told another how to go “smil
ing through" with Lydia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound. It
helps Nature tone up tho system,
thus lessening tho discomforts from
tho functional disorders which
women must endure In tho three
ordeals of life: 1, Turning from
girlhood to womanhood. 2. Pre
paring for motherhood. 3. Ap
proaching “middle age.”
Don't be a three-quarter wife,
tako LYDIA E. PINK HAM'S
VEGETABLE COMPOUND and
Go "Hiniliug Through."
■- —i
Comfort •
> . a.
//«* HOTEL
CLARK
in Downtown
LOS ANGELES
Convenience is another offering of
this hotel. Whether on business or
pleasure bent, the Hotel Clark
makesan ideal “base of operations.”
as well as a restful "billet" at the
end of the day’s “campaign." Good
Food, naturally. And moderate
charges, as well as for room accom
modations, give final significance
to assuring word — COMFORT.
Single from $2.50
Double from $3.50
ROOMS
555 Fifth and Hill
BATHS P. G. B. MORRISS, Manager
