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44 Tfci Baniwll P»ople-S#nti—U Bmwtll S. C, Thnmday, jMiaary 7, 1M7 GUNLOCK RANCH CHAPTER XIII—Continued The expression on Jane's face re flected her perplexity. “That’s easy to say, doctor, but It's folnf to be aw fully hard to do. I want to be rid of McCrossen, heaven knows—for more reasons than one. But I'll .need all my courage when I try the Job.” She was glad, when she got home that night, that her foreman was away; It gave her a night to think It over. In the morning he was over early with a report from the pastures and much pep In his manner. Calmly she told him she would have to dispense with his services. With a face as black as Gunlock Knob, McCrossen rose slowly from the chair In which he had been facing Jane. “So you’re firin' me?” Looking at her coldly and searchlngly, he spoke tensely and harshly. “I've got to cut down expenses, Dave,” she said. “I—” Before she could speak, he ran on: “Folks don’t naturally Are an old hand like me, your father’s friend, without giving a reason, do they? What are you turnin’ me out for?” “Dave," she said suddenly, “you’ve always been paid well—where does all your money go? Why do you have to run steers off the ranch at night to pay your debts?" “So," he exclaimed savagely, “a few head of steers that belonged to me by rights anyway are stlckln’ In your crop, eh? Do you know your own dad was the biggest cattle thief In this whole country?" Jane stamped her foot. “It's not so I” “Did you know he made a thief out of me? The first calves I ever stole In my life, I stole for Gus Van Tambel. Doesn’t look very nice for you to talk to me about stealln’ cattle,” he ex claimed scornfully, “the daughter of a man that stole all he’s got” “Dave," she protested, angrily, "stop that talk. If my father owed you any thing, I’ll pay It” He laughed. “All right, kiss an’ make up.” He stepped toward her. She sprang to her feet “Dave, I—" “Why, girl, don’t you know I love you?” He spoke with a queer laugh and, darting forward, caught her. While she struggled, he rained kisses •n her face and neck and arms. Jane, frantic, fought to repel him. “Dave McCrossen, If you don’t let me go, PH scream across to the bunk- kouse," she cried. He Jeered at her. “Go ahead, there's nobody there. I’ll let you go after you kiss me and not before." Just when she was afraid she would lose consciousness the kitchen door opened behind McCroesen’s back, and Quong, half hiding a long knife In his loose sleeve, burst Into the room. Jane saw the China boy first “Kill him, Quong, kill him!” she cried, be side herself. “Drop that knife I” thundered Mc Crossen. Quong, his face livid, paid no attention whatever—he meant to kill or get killed. With fresh fear seizing her, Jane Jerked from the foreman’s grasp and flung herself between the two men. “No, no, Quong!” she cried. "Just stand by me. Now get out of this house, Dave McCrossen. Never enter It again. Go!” she screamed. McCrossen recovered himself. He laughed. “What’s all the row about?" be demanded. “Just a little fun, Quong, that's all. The boss Is tryln’ to fire me, but I si n’t gone yet. Get out, eh? All right, I'll get out—for now." And laughing grotesquely, McCros sen strode to the front door, threw It open, walked out, and slammed it shut behind him. Thoroughly shaken by the scene, Jane, without waiting for anything to eat, rode Into town to seek Carpy for help. He discounted her alarms. “No dan ger at all, Jane, of McCrossen’s shoot ing Quong now. If all the threats In this country were put into action, there wouldn’t be enough live men left to bury the dead men. “Henry Sawdy will be In here for dinner. He's the man for your fore man. Talk to him after dinner.” “I’m afraid McCrossen will quarrel with whomever I put In and kill him.” “Kill Sawdy?” mused Carpy apprais ingly. “Sawdy's not so fast a man as McCrossen. He’s not had to shoot his way out of as many scrapes as Mc Crossen has; but Henry's nobody's meat to serve raw—you needn’t worry about him.” “If Bill were only well," explained Jane wistfully. “I’m glad Bill Isn’t,” returned Car py quickly. “I wouldn’t want to see him out and In trim while McCrossen Is raging around. Then you might have something to worry about To tell you the truth, girl. I’m holding Bill Denison back right now. He’s coming on fine, but let’s let well enough alone. After you talk to Saw dy, you’ll see Bill. For heaven's sake, don’t say one word about your round up with BIcCrossen. Bill would Jump the hospital fence.” When she saw Denison at the hos pital, It was hard for Jane to repress the excitement that the morning’s struggle hnd left upon her. Even without Carpy’s warning, she well knew that If Denison learned what had happened he would tear loose from all restraint. “What’s the news today, deader he asked. “Why, nothing special, Bill” “you don’t act that way.” Jane laughed, evaded, and said the real ntws was that soon the bandages jtere to come off his eyes. •awdy accepted the ranch arrange- by Freak H. Spearman CwrlStt Freak H. I WNor meat without a qualm, though Sleepy Cat* knew even before he rode out to assume his post that McCrossen was vowing vengeance. The day after Sawdy took charge, he was In town to do some ordering. In Rubldo’s store he ran into McCros sen. Sawdy shook hands with him, and McCrossen told him he would be out next day to pack up his things. ‘Til be glad to see you an’ help any way I can. Ought not to be no hard feelln’s, Dave. Wbat do you say to a drink?" The two, talking things over, saun tered' down the street Sawdy halted before Spotts’ place. McCrossen shook his head. "Not In there. I don’t train with that butcher. Come along to the Red Front.” “No,” said McCrossen, as he and Sawdy poured their glasses, “I don’t carry no hard feelln's against you, Henry—not a bit Jane treated me pretty rough, I must say that But she ain’t to blame, neither. She’s been against me. It’s Bill Denison that’s be hind all this. He’s fair enough to my face, but he’s double-faced.” “Dave,” said Sawdy Impatiently, “don’t talk like a blamed fool” McCrossen bridled. “What do you mean, Sawdy?” "Why, everybody knows Denison ain’t two-faced. A man may like BUI or not like him. He’s got his enemies, 1’U admit" “Tou’re damned right he has.” “But so’s every man. Well, here's luck, Dave.” "Luck to you, Henry—not to that—" “Cut It out, Dave. If you an* Bill can’t get along, that's your business. He an’ I get along fine. Well, I’ve got to be startin’ for the ranch.” “An’ for my old Job! An* my old home,” muttered McCrossen. "Do you blame me for bein' sore?” “Not a bit, Dave." “Then fill up again an* be damned to all enemies.” It was some time, however, before Sawdy could break away. Even after he left, the ex-foreman loitered at the bar, pouring his grievance Into the So “I’ll Let You Go After You Kiss Me and Not Before.” ears of Harry Boland, the low-voiced, mischief-making saloon keeper. “He’s got my girl,” complained McCrossen doggedly. “You know that, Harry." Boland, leaning over the bar, listened sympathetically and nodded. "It’s pretty hard, Harry,” McCrossen rambled on, "to stand all I’ve stood from that man—you know that Lit tle Gunlock Jane—that’s wbat I called her first day she rode up to the ranch —that girl Is the trimmest little hussy that ever crossed a horse’s back In the Gunlock Hills -r- you know that, Harry." V* . “Everybody knows that" Boland nodded. “What would you do, Harry,” demanded McCrossen, “If you was treated that way.” “Well, you can’t do nothin’ now while Denison's In the hospital, can you? Wait till he gets out Then tell him what you think of him.” The following day It was known up and down River street that BIcCrossen was spoiling for a fight McAlpln took alarm at the rumors that spread so rapidly. He ambled up the street to lay the reports before Carpy. “McAlpln,” said the doctor, “don’t worry. There can’t be any fight as lon£ as one man’s laid up the hospital. I’m going to keep him there till McCrossen cools off.” " "Why, for that boy to face McCros sen, half blind like he Is now—It’d be plain murder,” McAlpln burst out Indignantly. “BUI Denison ought to be kept under cover for six months, Doc, till he can see straight” Carpy refused to get excited. “Seer he echoed scornfully. “McAlpln, that boy could see right now to thread a needle In the dark. He doesn’t know that You keep your mouth shut un derstand 1" As the doctor spoke, Jake Spotts stuck his head in at the office door. “Hello, Doc,” he-called out without any preliminary greeting. "I got a message for yon from Sister Angela.” “Sister Angela V* exclaimed Carpy in surprise. “When did you sea Sister “ ’Bout five minutes ago—been up to the hospital shavln’ a men. BUI Deni son’s gone.” Carpy Jumped to his feet “What d’you mean, Jake?” “Just what I say. That’s English, ain’t It? Bill Denison’s gone." “Where’s he gone?” "How the hell should I know?” de manded the Irascible barber. “Nobody knows. Sister said to tell you BIU Is gone.* “What—” Spotts waved his hand. “That’s all I know, and I’ve got to get back to the shop.” McAlpln sat with ears cocked, but had no time to speak. “Run for your life, McAlpln, and hitch up for me," exclaimed Carpy. “Til follow you right down.” The liveryman drove Dr. Carpy up to the hospital. Sister Angela In the office met the doctor. “What’s this I hear, Sister?” asked Carpy. “Where’s Denison?” “He’s gone. He was In his room and ate his supper at five o’clock. When the nurse went into his room again, the bed was empty. His clothes are gone from the closet We’ve looked everywhere. What can we do?” Carpy’s vexed face reflected his un easiness. “There’s nothing you can do. Sister. We’ll hear from him be fore we want to, I’m afraid.” He rturned from the counter and whirled -around again to It. “Slater,” he asked suddenly, “was there anybody here tf see him this afternoon?” "Nobody but an Indian." “Did you get his name?” "It was John Frying Pan." Carpy grunted. ‘Thanks, Sister,” he said and hurried out “Where now. Doc?" asked McAlpln as Carpy, silent and perplexed, got Into the boggy beside him. “Back to the office, McAlpln. The bird’s flown. Hell’s loose, in spite of my fine schemes.” “Did you get any explanation?” “Plenty," rejoined Carpy grimly. “Plenty!” »- CHAPTER XIV BUI Pardaloe received the surprise of his life; it came to him that night Just as Pardaloe was enjoying his final smoke a gentle tapping at his window aroused him. Who's there?” he demanded gruffly. “Awake, Bill?” “Never talked In my sleep yet,” r* torted Pardaloe. “Who be you?” “I’m Bill Denison.” “You're a liar—Bill Denison is laid up at the hospital Who be you?” “Look here. Bill don’t be n blamed fool Pm out of the hospital and rid ing for Gunlock. Get up and open the door. I want to talk to you.” Par daloe grumbled a bit and turned out The bolts clanked, the door opened, and the ex-shertff saw, within the rays of hls N dark lantern, Denison. "So It Is you. Bill Well FU be derned. What’s up?” he asked as be ushered his surprise caller into his bedroom. “How’s your eyes?” "First rate, Bill I—” “Does Carpy know you’re out to night?” , ’ "Not yet.” “You’ll ketch hell” “Can’t help It Bill I want to bor row your thirty-three, and Pm in an all-fired hurry.” “What do you want the rifle fr. Bill?" “Pm riding for Gunlock,” repeated Denison impatiently. “I’ve got word a party of rustlers are going to run off some steers tonight and I’m going to Interfere.” “Who’s the rustlers. Bill?” asked Pardaloe, unmoved. "How should I know? Pm riding to find out” snapped Denison. “Who brought the word to you?” “John Frying Pan.” “Taln’t likely McCrossen would let anybody do any stealln* he didn’t gel a cut In—” “Do I get a rifle or not?” demanded Denison savagely. Pardaloe pointed “There’s the gun rack—help your self. Who’s with you?” “Frying Pan and Bob Scott” “They got rifles?” asked Pardaloe, rising. “They have. Where’s the ammuni tion?” "Here in the drawer. I guess PU take the old express.” "What do you mean, Blll?t “I’m going to ride along.” “No." ’ “Yes.” T say no I” "I don’t give a damn what you say I go.” “Bill, It’s not necessary. It may b# close work." “I never seen no close work yet,” retorted the veteran, grimly sarcas tic. "Kind of like to see what It’s like!" "Yes, but—” “Tell John or Bob to saddle a horse for me.” “O. K.,” muttered Denison, stuffing his ammunition belt rapidly with cart ridges. “If you’re going, you’re go ing." The Indians, in the saddle, were waiting outside. Scott got up n pony from the sheriff's barn for Pardaloe Denison, on needles and pins, wait er for the old man’s final prepara tions. At last Pardaloe, considerablj hurried, grabbed a hat from the rifle rack and stamped vigorously out lute the night after his posse. He was the last man to mount Denison gave the word to go, and the quartette were under way when BIU Pardaloe cried a halt (TO MS CQNTIMJKDl A Trio for the Younger Set TpHREE more intriguing num- A bers than these would be hard to imagine—even in this day of rampant fashion and scintillating style! It’s a trio that the younger set in The Sewing Circle will be enthusiastic about too, for first consideration is given them in- Patten 1996—This excellently styled jumper dress is one the tot of six and the lass of fourteen will sing long and loud over. It is a guaranteed delight for both mother and daughter because it’s the simplest thing to sew and the most intriguing frock a child ever had. The puff of the sleeves and the flare of the skirt place a pretty accent on youth. Available for sizes: 6, 8, 10, 12 and 14 years. Size 8 requires 1% yards of 85 inch material for the jumper and 1% yards for the blouse. Patten 1202—There’s subtle love liness about this new dress for all occasions. 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