"SECOND TIME WEST"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 23 September 1938, Page 10

"SECOND TIME WEST"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT

BY

T. C. BRIDGES

(Author of “Watching Eyes,” “Seven Years’ Sentence,” etc.)

CHAPTER XXlX.—Continued. About eleven a rider was seen approaching the house. Someone recognized him as Jake Starr, one of Fame’s hands. He was alone and unarmed, and, as he came near, showed a white handkerchief on the end of a stick. Dave went out to meet him.

“White flag, eh” he said drily. “Come to ask for terms?” “Come to bring a letter,” Starr retorted. “Maybe there’s terms in it.” Dave took the letter, which was addressed in Fame’s hand, to Joan. He called to her, and she came down. It wrung Dave’s heart to see how white and worn she looked. “Better go inside to read it,” he advised. She went in, and he followed. She tore open the envelope, and, as she read, her face changed and lighted with a sort of inner radiance. “He’s alive!” she cried. “Jim’s alive!” “Alive!” Dave repeated. “That’s the best news ever. But where is he?” Tn gaol at Loomis. And —and Fame has recognised him. But says that no one knows who he is, and that he will not tell if I promise to marry him.’’ Dave’s blue eyes flamed. “The dog!” he said. “Ward and I will go right in and take that gaol to pieces. And Fame, too!” “No —not yet!” Joan begged. “He’s given me a week.” “More’n we’ll give him,” Dave answered. “You stay right here. I’m going to talk to Ward.” He went, and for the next hour he. Ward, and Mart Dowling discussed the situation. Then he went back to tell Joan what they had decided. Joan was not there. He told Sam Loy to find her. “She gone!” Sam answered. “She ride away on horseback long time ago.” Dave’s face went gaunt, and his shout brought Ward running. “She’s gone. Ward! She’s gone to give herself up to Fame so as to save Jim!” Sam Loy interrupted. “Misses Joan, she write letter” he said in his flat voice. “Then why didn’t you give it to me?” growled Dave, as he tore it open. “She ain’t gone to Loomis, Ward—she’s gone to Piedra.” Ward’s eyes widened. “What for?” “She don’t say,” Dave frowned. “It’s a long ride, Ward,” “Joan’s range bred. She’ll do it all right. But I’d like to know what notion she’s got in that pretty head of hers.” “We’ll know tomorrow,” Dave told him. “She’s coming back right away.” “But where’ll she stay?” Ward wanted to know. “With my nephew, Mark Logan, and his wife. I gave her a letter to ’em this morning.” He lowered his voice. “She didn’t want to stay here when she thought Jim was coming back.” Ward nodded. “It’s a dirty shame, Dave! She and Jim is just made for one another.” “That’s a fact.” Dave said simply. “But you know how Jim's fixed.” “I know all about that,” Ward answered, “but it don’t look like any girl will get him if we don’t do something about it.”

“Fame won’t give up very easy, Ward. I reckon they got that gaol well guarded.” ‘And (he trails,” Ward added. “Do you reckon it’s any use writing to the Governor of the State, Dave?” Dave shook his head.

“He can’t interfere with a regular trial, Ward. And see as Fame has given Joan a week it looks like he was going to stage this business to make it seem legal. Him and that snide Sheriff will fix it. They got plenty evidence to hang Jim for shooting Wesley Garnett.” Ward shrugged. “Likely you’re right, Dave. Then all we got to do is hire every good man we can find and make a fight for it.” “We’ll start right away,” Dave agreed. “All I hopes is that Fame ain’t lying when he says he’ll give Joan a wee’k.”

“He ain’t,” said Ward. “I just remembered that the tax sale is Friday next. That’s a week tomorrow. Fame wants that off his mind before he starts anything else. Wjfth Jim in prison and us kept out of Loomis, he reckons there won’t be no competition.” It was not till late next day that Joan returned. She was tired, and, no wonder, for in all she had ridden more than seventy miles. Dave waited to hear what she had to say, but all she told him was that she had seen Mark Logan and his wife, and liked them both, and that Mark had promised to find work for her. Yet there was about her an air of subdued excitement which puzzled Dave. He, however, was too busy to think much of anything else. They couldn’t do much. All the country to the south was desert, and the few small ranchers to the north and west were too scared of Fame to come in against him. The whole force that Dave and Ward could raise between them was only a score, while Fame had double that number of gunmen, to say nothing to his hangers-on in Loomis.

Luiz, the Mex Boy, rapidly recovered from the snake bite. On the following Tuesday he had a talk with Joan, after which he disappeared. He was away all night, but returned in the morning. He had been to Loomis and brought news that the gaol was heavily guarded and Fame’s gunmen in force in the town. For the rest, all was quiet. The tax sale was at mid-day on Friday. He had arranged with another young Mexican, Francisco Morales, to watch the sale and bring news of it.’ Ward suggested that they raid the town on Thursday night, but, to his surprise, Joan was against it. For some reason of her own she wanted to wait until Morales arrived. Ward and Dave both noticed that Joan’s excitement had increased. She ate little and slept badly. Ah hour before sunset on Friday, Joan, sitting on a rock high above the house, saw a lone rider coming across the valley. She ran down and reached the door just as a slim young Mexican sliped out of the saddle. Dave and Ward came out of the house, but Joan hardly seemed to see them. “You have news” Joan asked breathlessly. The boys dark face was alive with excitement.

‘Great news, Senorita! A tall Englishman came this morning in an airplane and with him an American sencr. The sale began. These men stood by themselves, no one troubling them. The ranch of the Circle O was put up for sale, and the Senor Fame bid five hundred dollars. The tall Englishman said quietly five thousand and all looked at him. Fame’s face went red; there was fury in his eyes.” Morales paused. Like all Mexicans,

he had a strong sense of the dramatic. He went on. “Fame cried ten thousand, and the Englishman answered fifteen thousand. Fame said twenty thousand, and the crowd was so silent I could hear my own heart beating. And so they bid, one against another, until the price reach fifty thousand. Then, with a great oath Fame ceased to bid, and the ranch was given to the Englishman.” “Fifty thousand for the Circle O!” cried Dave. “Who was this crazy bidder?” “Bill Beverley,” Joan answered, her lovely face flushed with excitement. “He is Jim’s friend and agent. I cabled him a week ago.” “But how in sense did he get here?” “In the German airship to New York—then on by ’plane. Don’t forget that Jim is a millionaire. Mr Condon.” “I wonder Fame let him get away with it,” said Ward. “Fame couldn’t do anything,” Joan said. "Ezra Holmes, the Stale Attorney was with Bill.” “Gee —that was smart!” declared Dave. “Maybe Holmes can do some thing about getting Jim out of prison.” Morales spoke. “Senor Holmes and the Senor Englishman have gone away in their airplane. They say they go to Santa Fe.” “Gone to register the sale, I reckon,” said Dave, but Joan looked disappointed. At that moment a dull thunder came out of the sky, and Joan gave a cry of delight as she pointed to a ’plane coming at a great height out of the North. “Here they are! I know Bill would come. Now we shall have news.” The big ’plane side-slipped down on the flat below the house, and Joan hurried to greet Bill Beverley. “I knew you would come, Mr Beverley,” she said. “I am Joan Chandler. Let me introduce you to Mr Dave Condon and Mr Ward Haskell. “I know you both for Jim's friends,” Bill said warmly as he shook hands. "Well, Miss Chandler, got here in time to. buy the ranch, but that doesn’t help much. If anything, it’s made things worse, for Fame is foaming and, since he can’t take it out of anyone else, he’ll take it out of Jim. I don’t know whether lynching parties are still in fashion in this part of the world, but, if I’m not badly mistaken, that’s what’s in Fame’s mind this minute.” Joan went white and looked as if she would faint. Dave put an arm round her. “That’s just about what the dirty dog will do,” Dave said harshly. “Ward we got to get going right away. CHAPTER XXX. Within an hour the Painted Cross party were on their way. Bill Beverley was with them, and Joan, too, insisted on coming. Noah Trant had begged to come, but he was no horseman, and Dave pointed out that they had to ride hard. They rode by Last Chance Pass, and they rode fast. Aware that the Pass would be guarded they paused at the foot while Ben Cottle with Luiz and Mart Dowling went on afoot. They were to climb the heights above the pass and ambush the ambushers. To the rest the wait seemed endless, but at last firing was heard, and Dave gave the order to move on. Ben Cottle met them.

.“We shot two,” he told Dave, “but there was three and one’s got away. Mart says he’s wounded, but that won’t make no odds if he gets to town afore us.” Dave’s lips tightened. “We got to beat him to it. Come on, boys. Only don’t go too fast over the pass or some o’ you will break your necks. Remember we need every one of you. Ward and I will lead Beverley, you take care of Joan.” That desperate ride up the narrow winding, rock-floored pass was the most terrifying experience Bill Beverley had known. There was io moon, but the night was clear, and by the light of stars Dave’s little army climbed down the far side. Once on the level Dave drove in spurs, and he and the rest galloped hard across the doser! towards the glow which was Loom's. All were hoping for sight of the scout who had got away, but there was no sign. A mile from the town Dave pulled up.

“That fellow’s got clear away,” he told his men. “I reckon he’s warned Fame. That means they’ll be laying for us this side of town. Ward and me think the best thing we can do is tc circle round and come in from the ,East.”

“That’s right, boss,” came several voices, then they were riding again. The men were girmly silent, but all knew that the fact that Fame had been warned cut their chances by a full half. Joan was desperately anxious. By her wrist watch it was nearly ten. If Fame really intended ter lynch Jim it might be already too late to save him. Dave’s party reached the East side of the town without meeting a soul. He halted them again a few hundred yards from the nearest buildings. He, Ward and Mart, talked in low voice. ‘‘They haven’t spotted us yet,” Bill said to Joan. “Probably they’re waiting for us on the West side. I’m wondering if we can't rush the gaol, pull Jim out and hook it before they get wise.” “It would take time to break in,” Joan answered. "And there’s no shelter. They would shoot us down.” She stopped. “Listen!” she said sharply. Through the cool, crisp, night aii came an ugly sound —the hoarse roar of many angry voices. ‘A mob,” Bill muttered. “That’s a crazy crowd. Joan. I’d say most of ’em drunk.” “It’s the lynching crowd,” said Joan with deadly calm. “They’re started.’ Dave and the rest knew as well as Joan what the clamour meant. Bigmal and Fame had been priming their men with liquor and stirring them to rush the gaol. Ward spoke. “We got to work quick, Dave, if we want to save Jim’s neck.” “If we rides in behind them we might stampede them,” Dave said. “Looks like it’s our only chance.” “Let’s go!” came from the men, who were ready to take any risk to save Jim.' ‘All right, boys,” Dave said. He turned to Bill. “Beverley, you stay with Joan,” he ordered. Bill bit his lip. He was longing to go to Jim’s help, yet too good a, man to disobey. Then Dave gave the word and he and his score of followers were off. Joan caught Bill by the sleeve. “Dave said you were to stay with me. He didn’t say we were to stay here. Come!” Before Bill could find an answer Joan was off, circling away towards the North of the town. (To be concluded).