Jasper County Democrat, Volume 23, Number 75, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 December 1920 — COMRADES Of PERIL [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

COMRADES Of PERIL

By Randall Parrish

j : immsi— sqm? r e:: Copyright A. C. NoClurf A Co. ;V SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.—Tom Shslby, e rancher, (idea la to tbs trontler town of Pones I oak log Cor s good time after a long *P*U of bard work and lopallne— on tbe ranob. Instead, be rune Into a funeral—that of Dad Calklne. a retired army man of whom little la known. A girl, etlll In her teens, survives Calklne. CHAPTER ll.—McCarthy, a aaloonkeeper and Ponoa'e leading cl Use n, decides that tbe girl, now alone In tbe world, should marry, Shelby starts a bunt for eligible husbands and tbe minister goee to oonfsr with tbe girl. CHAPTER lll.—She agrees to pick n husband from n score of men lined up In her home To hie consternation, she selects Shelby, who had gone along merely ss a spectator. He declines tbe honor. Indignant, tbe girl dismisses tbe easemsiage. Later, Shelby goes back to make an explanation. She receives him good naturedly. CHAPTER IV.—Leaving her, Shelby rs into two of tbe rejected suitors, and a ogbt worsts them both. Angered at their remarks, he tbe girl, determined to marry bar. If she Will have Mm After his explanation aba agrees to marry him.

CHAPTER V.—The wedding takes and the couple sat out for Shelby's ranch With them la the "Kid." MeckUn. whom Shelby has hired as a helper on tbe ranch. On tbe way the girl jells bar husband her name Is Olga Carlyn, and tells him something of tbe peculiar circumstances of her life. ’ I It was gray dawn when Shelby Stirred once more, and, with eyes only partially open, stared In bewilderment at tbe pale arch of sky. Slowly memory came back, and he managed to lift one hand t«whls head( his numb fingers touching a ghastly scalp wound, the clotted blood matting his hair. He had beenwtruck a desperate blow, and was dodtftow left lying there In the belief timt he was dead, yet apparently the skull was not crushed, and the night air had congealed the blood. With a supreme effort he drew himself Into a sitting posture, and stared* rather blankly about at the objects revealed in tW gray dawn. Tbe sight as Instantly restored his memory; the cabin doot stood wide open. Just as he left It, and within the lamp still burned on the table, In the midst of the dirtied dishes. She had not returned, then; he had been lying there alone all night. The realization maddened him to effort, and, by grasping at the door for support he attained his feet, and stood there for a moment, swaying dizzily. Exactly what had occurred he could not determine; the whole affair seemed more like a dream than a reality. He had left her there apparently cheerful and happy, the laughter in her eyes a memory to linger with him; he had not been absent to exceed thirty minutes, and not so far away but what any cry would surely have reached his ears. Yet when he returned she had vanished utterly, leaving everything untouched. Whatever occurred must have been brought to pass almost Immediately upon his departure, before she even began the work of cleaning up. But how could such a thing happen without any alarm? Why, the Kid was working within ten feet of the house, and must have heard the slightest souVid of a struggle. The Kid! where was he anywhy? What had become of the fellow all this time? He was nowhere 1A sight when Shelby retraced his steps up the path. Could it be that the Kid was the one guilty of this deed? If so, what was his object? Not robbery, surely, for the place had not been ransacked, or anything removed from his pockets. Yet surely this not Indian work; It bore no resemblance to a savage raid. The questions were unanswerable; no mental effort gave him any clue, yet his strength was rapidly coming back, and with It a grim, determined anger, which urged him into action. First he went through the deserted house, room by room, seeking for the slightest sign of guidance, but finding none. Everything remained precisely as he remembered seeing It the night before. He blew out the light, took down one of the rifles from the wall, loaded It, and then, feeling his old strength returning, cautiously stepped out through the front door. The buckboard stood there, gaunt and stripped, except for the box between the rear wheels. He peered Into this, and found it still half filled with bundles. Macklln had not completed his Job, other evidence being furnished by the extinguished and overturned lantern on the ground Just beyond. But there was no sign visible of any struggle. Surely she had not left of her own choice. That jvas unthinkable. She had appeared cheerful and contented, even actually Interested In the new life; besides, If she possessed the slightest desire to escape, he had offered her every opportunity on the way out, and she had refused. Surely she would never have come way out there to make her disagreeable Journey oyer agajn at plght. Even If c

enough for such ea attempt, the a would never he made upon foot, and all three pootee were In the corral; ha had seen them while coming down. No. that theory might be dismissed at once, and secretly he waa glad It was so easily disposed of —ft had vaguely haunted him at first causing him to dread the discovery that it might be true. . Then what waa true? Who could be guilty of such an outrage? Indiana? White outlaws? Joe Macklln? These three possibilities alone remained, but the first two seemed quite Impossible. He waa used to Indian foray, bat thla act bore no resemblance to the work of savages on the warpath. There had been no attempt to plunder, or destiny. The very fact that the ponies remained undisturbed convinced him that this was no deed of Indian raidera. That It might have been white outlaws was not quite so easily dismissed. There were desperate men hiding out yonder In the Bad Lands, but he never had knewn of their venturing to attack any settler, except occasionally to run off cattle on the range. In thla case there was no'apparent object—they had taken nothing, neither food nor stock. Then It must have been Macklln. Hla sudden disappearance waa. at least, proof he must have had a hand In It. But why? To what end? Shelby straightened up. a new flash of Intelligence tn his eyes. Perhaps this all harked back to that early mystery In her life. She had told him that Calktns had taken her from place to place, apparently alwaya afraid ffiat he waa being followed. Waa It possible that he had been hunted down at last; that he recognized the approach of the end. and had committed suicide on that account? And waa this strange seizure of Olga part of the plot, either ct revenge, or restitution? This explanation seemed more probable than any other; In a way It appeared to fit the case, although he possessed no more knowledge of what It all meant than be did before. Only, evidently all that had been desired waa possession of the girl, and that was deemed of sufficient Importance to even Justify murder. He had been left for dead. In order that she might be borne away alive. g-, No~~ longer doubting but what thla theory at least approximated tha

He Followed Their Passage. truth, Shelby faced the facts frankly, and with no further hesitation. It was up to him to act promptly; there was no one to whom he could turn for help. His eyes darkened, and his Jaws set All right then, he would certainly give the Kid a run for his money. There must be some trail left; such a deed as this could never be accomplished without leaving some mark behind. Whether they traveled on foot or horseback, the party must surely leave some trace of passage, and Shelby, who had been the best trailer in hla regiment, felt confident of being able to run the outfit down. With this once settled In his mind, and his plan of pursuit outlined, Shelby threw off his depression, and became cool and resolnte. First he searched over every foot of ground within a quarter of a mile of the house, seeking to discover just how Macklln had operated, antj, whether or not, he was alone. The result waa only partially successful. The hardpacked earth revealed little of value. Down below the cabin on the sloping side of the hill, he found the mark of a high-heeled boot siich as the Kid wore, and, a foot or so beyond, the plain Impression of a moccasin. A hundred yards to the north the Imprints were again visible, making it clear to his mind that the fugitives were then making for the lower ford. The girl was evidently being carried, and two men must have been engaged on the Job, one of -them possibly an Indian. He passed straight on to the ford to verify this theory, and here the mud exhibited clearly the movements of both the fellows, while close at the water’s edge he came upon a narrow pink ribbon, which the girl had evidently hurriedly dropped to guidance. It was clearly manifest now the direction In which they had disappeared, but Shelby remained unsatisfied. He could not believe that they would attempt to escape thus on foot with their burden. If Macklln had one assistant, it waa highly probable thqre

weald be other* *a**K*& to the affair. Tbe opposite abort waa departed. and be croeeed over, wading te bis thighs to tbe swift water, with rifle flung forward, and eyes Intently searching the further bank. The trail was plain at thla point; he could easily trace the steps of both men pwpging up a narrow gully into the drat line of bluffa, and there, in a lib tie open glade, he found where horse# had been tethered and tramped the turf. They had evidently been beM for some time; had entered from the north down a alight coulee, and departed westward along a shelving bank. There were five animals, all mounted, to judge from the deep Impress of hoofs, and he followed their passage as far as the crest of the bluff. They were well beyond view, 6f course by this time, across that rough, broken country, but he satisfied himself that they were beading straight for the Bad Lands

Shelby knew now something of what he mast contend with- The act of abduction, and attempted murder, waa no sudden temptation assailing Macklln, bat undoubtedly part of a well-or-ganized plot. Whatever their object, five men were concerned In the outrage, their Intention probably the making of the girt a prisoner. In Sbelby'a Judgment she waa probably In no Immediate danger. If the fellows had Intended takint her Ufa. she would never have thus been spared and carried away, apparently uninjured. Their purpose evidently required that she be kept alive, but helpless Id their hands. He was cool now; grimly determined. hut Intent on preparing himself for a long and dangerous quest. He was to be one man pitted against five, and every Instinct of long experience on the plains, warned him against being raah. He recroaaed the stream, built a fire in tbe stove, and, after washing the blood from hla head. Ate heartily; then packed a leather haversack with food, and was ready. He took thla time In which to plan out hla course, and then went forward unhesitatingly, filling hla pockets with rifle cartridges, and flinging the haversack over hia shoulder, before starting for the corral. He decided upon the buckskin as being the better animal for hla purpose—a vicious brute, harder to handle, but tireless, and able to exist where either of the others would starve. It required a good half-hour to rope and saddle the beast, but he had plenty of time. Once on the trail he could easily outride the party he was following, and he had no desire to approach them closely until well after dark. Once firm In the saddle, however, rifle under the flap, with haversack strapped on the opposite aide, and blanket-roll behind, he gave the plunging, bucking demon between hla legs little mercy. The man was in no mood for play of any sort. and set himself to conquering the brute In the quickest possible way. It was a rough, hard struggle, but the human scon, and, under the merciless sting of the quirt, the maddened but subdued animal, nostrils distended, and eyes vicious as ever, yielded final obedience to the rein.

CHAPTER VII. An Hour Behind. There no marked trail, but the Instincts of a plainsman kept Sbelby’a course directly to the northwest. The bronco, now thoroughly tamed, and obedient to the slightest pressure of the rider’s leg, kept a tireless gait, picking out unaided the easiest paths. From the general direction of the trail left by the raiders he had decided they were heading for a certain portion of the Bad Lands, and, If this theory was correct, he ought easily to cut across their tracks again late to the afternoon. Sitting upright In the deep saddle, with the straight back of the cavalryman, his eyes watchful, his lips grimly set, he rode steadily on hour after hour, thinking, planning, beginning now to realize the depth of his own interest In this effort at rescue. He had hardly comprehended before that this girl was really his wife —that her life had become his to guard. Tbe affair between them had occurred so swiftly, so unexpectedly, he had not before awakened to its true meaning. But now it became very real, and he was positively surprised to learn the strength of hold she already had upon him. His mind would linger over a thousand i little womanly peculiarities which somehow had unconsciously Impressed him —the soft gl6w In her eyes, the wistfulness of her smile; the slight dimple In her chin; the pulsing of blood In her cheeks; the round firmness of the white neck; the peculiar gracefulness bf her walk; the nameless attractiveness of poise, all came back now In odd fascination. He was not aware before that he had even notice® these things, but now their memory dominated him, caused his pulses to quicken. He had known little of women since boyhood, and never before had he encountered on terms of intimacy this type of a woman. She had been a revelation to him even In his blindness, but now, under the spell of memory, she had suddenly changed to an Inspiration. His wife, Olga Carlyn, his wife! He said the words over, as though he recalled a dream, the sound of the words causing the startled buckskin to cast back an evil eye at his unconscious rider. Yet It was actually true; Impossible as It seemed, it was nevertheless an incontrovertible fact. He had never spoken to her a single word of love; he had never even kissed her, and still, before both God and man, she was his wife. The strangeneAp of the situation bewildered him. Why, be

aid not even snow who ana Was; what right she bad to claim tbe family name under which he had married her; what strange story of crime might dhadow her history. It was all mystery, a mystery to which he was becoming deeply Involved. Oalktna bad evidently been hiding her from some fate, but whether of good or evil, could not yet be determined. This present abduction, beyond question, had to do with that concealed past, perhaps with some happening before she was even born. These fellows were not robbers; tlietr raid was not Intended for any such purpose; they had touched nothing, even the horees were left undisturbed In tbe corral, and the moment they gained possession of her they had hnrrtedly departed. It had all been Carefully planned, with Macklln to choose the time, and then executed quietly. Their only mistake was In leaving him behind alive. But for that ons error no one ever would hare known what had occurred, or dreamed of her fate. And now, assured, of safety, believing the deed would tell no tales, that they had left behind no evidence of their crime, the outfit was riding carelessly across the lonely prairie, seeking somewhere a safe rendezvous.

Shelby reined his horse to the left, and sought a water hole he remembered, himself drinking first, and tflen standing by while the animal quenched Its thirst Leaving the hnckskin there, with rein trailing on the ground, be climbed the steep side of a butte, and swept the distant horizon with a field glass. It was a trackless waste, drear and deserted of all life. Not a thing that moved crossed his range of vision; and, at last, he snapped the field glasses back Into their case, slipped down the steep face of the butte, and silently remounted. Tbe sun waa some time past the meridian, and he felt convinced those he followed coaid not be far from the trail be was endeavoring to locate. He came upon It in less than an hour, leading straight down a narrow valley, whose general course was directly west. He dismounted, and studied the tracks with care. This was his party beyond a doubt —five horses, one with a split hoof. An hour later he found where the party had halted, made a fire among some' rocks, and prepared food. He studied every sign with care, hoping

for some message of guidance from her; but there was none. Either she had been too carefully watched by her captors, or had given up In despair any thought of rescue. Doubtless she believed him dead also; perhaps had even witnessed the blow strucV but If not would assuredly have been Informed bf what had happened. The stamping of the ponies’ hoofs Indicated that the party had remained in that spot for some time, In no hurry to proceed. Shelby studied the footprints, satisfying himself that four were Indian, and one white, unquestionably Macklln. With only five horses this meant that the girl rode with one of the men, probably the Kid. He discovered where she probably was sitting during tKe meal, a torn piece of crumpled sacking bearing mute testimony that her hands had been bound, and released so that she might eat. The fellows were evidently unafraid of her any longer, and had not tied her up again when they resumed the Journey. It was nearly sundown when the trail he followed swerved to the right up a steep bank, where the ponies’ hoofs slipped in their struggle to attain the top. Shelby gave the buckskin his head, and the game little devil went scrambling up, until they came forth on a flat plain above. Shelby dropped his rein, and climbed to a higher point of rock, lying cbncealed behind Its summit, while he swept the scene below through the field glasses. He never had been there before, yet he knew about where he was; this must be Dragoon creek, and not far below would be Wolves’ hole, of which he often had heard —a famous hiding place for cattle thieves and border outlaws. These fellows evidently were heading for there, but would they try to complete the Journey? His hope centered on their camping somewhere until morning; If sufficiently assured of safety this would probably be their choice. Through the field glasses he studied the course of the stream, and the. Uttle patches of wood intently.. At

Hurt ba was rewarded —* riint apirei of blue smoke arose above eome distant trees, the evidence of a campfire. He lay there mottoeteea. silent, his eyea glued to the glass, planning his action, and waiting for the night Aa the gt oo ™ slowly deepened Shelby was able te distinguish the flicker of that far-off fire, bat the distance was too great to permit any knowledge of Its surroundings. The trail leading down waa narrow, and rockstrewn, and he determined to try the passage while a faint glimmer of twilight yet lingered. Leading the buckakin, and moving with tha utmost caution. he began the descent The gloom did not greatly retard bis movements, for, through the glasses, be had mapped out the salient features, and so Impressed them upon his memory as to go now confidently. The camp Arenas located In the third grove of trees, snd there were no signs of human presence between. However, he took no chance, but advanced quietly on foot, leading bis horse, and using every precaution against discovery. He circled the two groves, keeping dose In their shadow, and searching their depths anxiously for any sign of life. They were desolate and deserted. but, from the outer fringe of the second he could perceive plainly the dull glow of the Are s hundred yards ahead. It was no longer s flame, but a merw glimmer of red ashes, casting no reflection about, although clearly risible. He fastened the bronco to a limb, within the circle of treea, and croqched forward alone, Winchester In hand, choosing his passage beneath the bank of the stream, and advancing with every precaution, pausing every few steps, to peer over the protecting bank, and thus assure himself that all remained quiet. When almost exactly opposite the red glow of the coals, he lay still, endeavoring vainly to learn the situation, and becoming more and jpore puzzled. The camp appeared deserted, as though the party which had halted there had already passed on. He could bear no sound, see no movement. The fire had died down Into a mere glimmer of red ashes, barely perceptible amid the surrounding gloom. Shelby drew himself forward, creeping like a snake, convinced that he was alone, yet no lees alert and watchful. His progress waa up a (shallow depression, and he had attained the deeper shade of the trees, when, suddenly, * volca, apparently speaking not two yards distant, gave utterance to an oath of disgust / “H—lt” the voice said roughly, “there la no use waitin’ for that guy any longer; no tollin' where he la at by now.”

Shelby dropped flat on his face almost ceasing to breathe. The unseen party addressed stretched himself lazily, as evidenced by She rustle of leaves. "I reckon ye’re right. Hank,” he admitted alowly, his speech, heavy and coarse. “No tenderfoot ain’t goln’ ter make that trail at night Mor’n likely he’a aimin’ ter com’ through the other way.” “What’ll we do, then—ride on?” “After a bit; it’s early yet an* maybe It’ll do no harm to lie quiet awhile. Bbt we kin light up, an’ be comfortable.” He struck a match, hollowing the flame In his hands, revealing the bearded face of a man of fifty, shadowed beneath a soft hat brim. Beyond him appeared the obscure outline of the other, a mere smudge. A moment the two puffed away contentedly, Shelby not venturing to move a muscle. “Say, Hanley, I’ve allers played my hand th« best I knew how, but I do like ter know what the game Is I’m playin’ at What do yer know, anyhow?” The other chuckled In his beard, rnstllng his feet In the leaves. “Easier ter ask about than explain, Hank,” he answered slowly, “specially as there Is things I don’t Just cotton

*Var;»‘- «Sk'JUtT.* • ■ » 4 *Olir* • . r , to myself. Mostly I pulled the facts out of that Kid Macklln when he was drunk, ’cause he wanted me to help him. But It seems he’s only hired fer the Job; It’s that guy we’re waitin’ for who has got the real dope, and likewise the long-green.” “Churchill's his name, ain’t it?" “That’s the duller; some big feller

down East: 4’lrglnla. as I udderstaidl —Judge Cofnellus Churchill; tks whole story goes • b—l of b long ways back." He leaned his head against the tmn trunk behind, him. pulling sway at the cigarette between his bearded lips, the dull glow barely touching hla face.. The younger man leaned forward waiting. “Well,” he raid Impatiently, “that ain’t all of It: what started the rumpus? What's the Idea of stealin’ tha girl? An' Just whar do you an’ ma come In?" “Well, as I figure It. we’ve got ta make our own medicine. You saw that outfit go along afore dark — MnckUa an’ the four reds?" ’•Sure; they hftd a woman with >for “That's the ticket, an’ they eraa bound for Wolves' hole. I thought maybe they’d camp down here, bat they didn’t—Just kept movin’. Wall, that’s one thing you an’ l laid out hara

for. to got* a line on Macklln. Tha other thing la that this yere Cornelius Churchill Is about due also, an* la most likely to blow in along this sama trail. It Is my notion to have a word privatelike with that gent before Joa gets to him —see?" “Can’t say that I do. Hanley, exactly. What’s It all about—the girl?” "Mostly, I reckon, an’ a h—l of a slice of money down East. This la how the Kid blew It to me. It scema nn • army officer named Carlyn ’bout the time thy Civil war closed, ran away with a Rose Churchill down In Virginia, and married her. All ba cared for was the girl, an’ he netrar even knew she was rich, only that har family objected to him, an’ that they'd havo to skip out. I reckon, raayb* she didn’t know It herself at the tlma, nor the rest o’ the Churchill family, for they didn’t mnke no great effort to And her for some while. Then, when they opened s will, they discovered that moat all the ChurcbUl fortune had been left to this Rose, and they naturally becora’ mighty interested. Cornelius, as I understand, was the brother of Ross’s father, an' the property was put In his hands as trustee on behalf of the girl. Maybe he was s TTfalght enough guy generally speaking, but he had expected to get most of this dough after the girl skipped out, an’ was consequently almighty hot. Nutumlly he wanted ba keep the siufT. an’ he didn’t make no great effort to locate the heiress. By the time lie did learn who she had married, Hose died, lenvlng a daughter. By the terms of the will If “he died childless the enllre-eatnte reverted. to Cornelius, nnd he wasn’t tho sort o’ gny to lose thut kind o’ bet.” “An’ this- soldier never suspected nothing?”

“Not a thing. He was n colonel by this time, out nt some frontier post, nml left his baby to the care of some relatives In the East. There wasn’t no fush made, an’ so Churchill sorter let affulrs slide along, lie bud the use of the money, an’ begun to think there never would be no trouble. Of course he kept a line on the huaband, but lost trace of the kid entirely." i w "Yer mean the colonel nevsr evaa know’d he’d married a rich girl?" "So It seems. I reckon she dldnt even know It, his wife. But aftsr awhile some Inkling of the truth muck have reached him, for he went and began to make Inquiries through a lnw.ver. When Churchill heard about this he got scared. I reckon hV4 played h—l with the trust funds by that time, an’ with the husband on hla trail got mighty desperate. MeanwhOa the daughter was In some conveat school, and not to be found. Carlya struck a hot trail all right, but, tore he could take any action, waa shot and killed ih a street fight with some roughs In Sheridan. Nobody knows for sure Just how It happeneC. but It’s my opinion Churchill got ay the row Just to get him out o’ tha way. It all happened sudden, an* a» expected, the only fellow with tha colonel at the time being an old sea* geant, named Calkins. Calkins waa shot himself, but got away, and took care of Carlyn till he died, maybe aa hour later. Enyhow he kept the fallows from getting hold o’ any papoHA an’ I reckon the colonel give him aa Idea of what was up.” “What makes you think so?”

“The way he acted afterwnrdl Churchill had got Carlyn out of the way, .but he couldn’t locate the gML He didn’t suspect the sergeant at fkrah nor for a long time. He was a foxy guy, and stuck to the army for several years, never makln’ a move, just payin' for the girl’s schoolin’, bat never goln’ near her. Then, when everybody had quit watcliln’ him, Calkins took his discharge papers, and skipped out, takln’ the girl with him.” “How could he do that?” “That’s what I asked Macklln, an* he said they’d finally found out that durln'-the time between when Carlym was shot, an’ when he died, he'd signed a paper makln’ Calkins ttoa girl’s guardian, an’ gave him the key to a deposit box In Kansas City, whera all his papers was. A lawyer namad Weeks, at Sheridan, did It for hlnn. You see the colonel didn’t have nsr near relatives, an’ he an’ Calkins had been soldiering together for years; ha sorter trusted the sergeant to play square, an’ he sure did!” “The h—l he did I Never made a peep for the money, did he? An’ Just hid out all ’round the country with the girl. I dpn’t call that playin’ very square." “Well, it was, Just the same, »d— - d square, If you ask me. It was what Weeks advised him to do, after ha wait tp .Virginia, an*, got peep at a

Copyright A. C. McClurg & Co.

copy of the will on file. This giri had no legal rights till she was of age—see! Churchill knew this, an’ he didn’t do much o’ anything else fer ten years, but try to get his hands on her. Old Calkins was smart enough to fool him. The colonel had money enough in the deposit box. so they could live on it quietlike, an’ the sergeant never wasted a cent. He Just naturally lived for that girl, till about a month ago. He was smart enough not even to trust her; she never knew what they was hidin’ from." Hank touched a match to another cigarette, impressed with the story. “Rum kind of a business. I’d say,” he admitted at last, “but just where did this devil’s imp of a Macklin fit in?” “I ain’t got that all figured out yet,” admitted Hanley. “You know pretty near as much about him as I do. Furst time I saw the feller he rode in yere along with Cassady’s outfit, after that N. P. holdup, an’ he’s been trainin’ with Cassady more or less ever since. After I had this talk with him, when he was drunk, I put him to bed, an’ picked up a letter, or two, what fell out of his pocket. I got some o’ this stuff out o’ them. One of them was written by Churchill, an’ judgin’ from the way it read, the Kid ain’t really named Macklin at all —he’s a Churchill himself, the old cuss’ son.” “Well, I’ll be d—d!” “You know the rest; how he stumbled onto ol’ Calkins down In Ponca, an’ what happened. You can’t make me believe the old fellow V"ad himself ; wasp’t that kind, iiut, however it happened, the girl was left helpless;, then d —d if she didn’t marry that rancher over on the Cottonwood, an* spoil the whole game." r flank laughed coarsely. “Tough luck; but the Kid played Ids hand all right.”

“Sure he gid, but he had to bean this fellow Shelby. Except for that Job it wasn’t so bad, for it was easier to get her where he wanted her. I don’t know how he’d have managed pt Ponca, but there was just the three of ’em on the Cottonwood.” “And dead men don’t talk.” “Well, they’re safer than live ones, enyhow. Then this Injun outbreak cornin’ right now makes the get-away plum easy. He can hide her away back in the Hole as long as he d—n pleases. Everything will be laid to the Sioux for awhile.” “It’s a sure break, then?” “Sure; all the young bucks are already out. Macklin had four with him on this chase —took ’em on purpose, so if they was ever trailed they’d say it was an Injun job. Oh, he’s covered up things all right. You got it straight now?” Hank drew up his feet until his chin rested on his knees, the tip of the cigarette glowing. “I got it straight enough, so far as that goes, Hanley, but I don’t see what the h—l we’re goin’ to get out of it." “You’ve got the same love for the Kid I have, ain’t yer?” “Just about, I reckon. I’d sure like to take a good swipe at the ornary cuss." “That’s what I thought. Well, he ain’t goin’ to do nothin’ desperate to this young woman till he hears from the old man. This affair has been pulled off hurriedllke, an’ all the Kid has got in his mind right now 1b to hide her away somewhere, until old Churchill shows up, and decides what to do with her.” “What do you suppose he’ll decide?" “Well, my notion Is that if Macklin is the old man’s son, he’ll try to force her into marryin’ the boy. That would be the easy way, an’ I believe that will likely be their scheme. My Idea is to put a crimp In It.” “How?” “By getting hold of her ourselves before the old man shows up, an’ then doin’ business with him.” “Where’ll we take her?” “Back into Wolves’ hole; there’s hidin’ places there a plenty, an’ with them Injuns raisin’ h —l up north, it’ll be safe enough, until the war’s over enyhow. What do yer say?” “H—l, I don’t care; there ain’t nuthin’ to lose. You got the Kid them Injuns, didn’t you?” “Yes; he never told enybody what was up but me. All right, let’s mosey along; there’s no nse stayin’ here.”

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

He Circled the Two Groves.

“What's the Idea of Stealin' the Giel?"