AUTHOR OF
“THE LIGHT OP WESTERN
STARS"
"RIDERS OF THE PURPLE
SAGE", ETC.
COPYRIGHT, «r HAWES AND MOTHERS
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER T--Tn W'dl stnn, Toxt« It
becomes with Buckley Duane a « a. • of
fiKht or run from Cal Bain. Duane kills
his man and becomes an outlaw.
CHAPTER II—He meets Luke Ftev
ens. an outlaw.
CHAPTER Til—Stevens poos into the
town of Mercer to buy supplies and is
shot by a rancher. Duane buries him.
CHAPTER IV—Duane goes to Bland's
out'aw stronghold in the Rim Rook and
after shooting Bosomer. who ipiarr* Is.
with him over Stevens’ d* ith. derich
to stay there. Euchre takes Dunne for
a partner and tells him about Bland
the outlaw chi f md his band.
CHAPTER V—Duane practices pun
throwing and hears more about Bland
and his pang.
CHAPTER VT—Euchre and Duane
call on Kate. Bland’s wife, and Jennie
a pirl whom Benson kidnaped and sold
to Bland.
CHAPTER VII—Euchre and Duane
conspire to take Jennie away. Duan
prevents a wanton murder.
CHAPTER VTII -Mrs. Bland makes
love to Dunne and he uses her to fur
ther his plans. Bland returns from a j
trip. He a«ks Duane to join the band
He is jealous of Duane and abuses Kate
and Jennie.
CHAPTER IX—Euchre kills Benson.
Is killed hv Alio wav. Duane kills Allo
wav and Bland and e.«- :ir wimnoi d.
with Jennie. In a desert* d hut in the
nusquite Jennie nurses him.
CHAPTER X—When Duane is strong
enough they travel out of the Rin Rock
to a rancher's house. where Dunne re
covers. On their wav to Slodhv vilb*
Jennie is carried off by outlaw- while
Duane is away looking for a strayed
horse.
CHAPTER XT—After vain search for
Jennie, whose abductor he kills. Dune.
leads the lone-wolf lib* for nior«* tin
three years, finally getting h message
from Captain McNelly of the rangers
asking him to come to the captain's
camp after dark.
CHAPTER XTT—The message is sev
eral times repeated. Duane is chased by
a lynching party.
OHAPTKR XIII—A pr'ee on Ills tv-nil
nnrt accused of murderinit a woman.
Duane rides Into Shirley to deny ttie
murder. After a narrow escape from
lynching. he proves his Innocence find is
allowed to go.
PHAI'TKR XIV—Tie rocs to MeNelly's
ranker camp, McNelly offers him ptr
don .and social restoration If I s will
become a ranger and clean out the
Phcseldine gang In the Rig lb-nd coun
try
rilAPTRR XV—Ruck Dunne ranger
strikes the Rig Rend country and be
gins work, t'heseldlni* is a no-tery, a
jinwor and a horror to the country.
CHAPTER XVI Colonel T.ongstrpth's
daughter Ray. and lo r cousin. Itntli ;
Herbert, are held up. Duane shoots |
one of the robbers, hut is puzzled by
the colonel's conduct.
“Miss Longstreth, will you let me
search the house?” he asked.
“No."
“Then—I regret lo sat I'll do so
without your permission."
“Vou'11 not dare!” she flashed. She
stood ereet, her hosom swelling.
“l’ardon me - yes. I will."
“Who are you?" she demanded, snd- j
denly.
•Till a Texas Hunger," replied
Duane. «
“A Texas Ranger!" she echoed.
Floyd I.awson’s dark face turned
pale.
"Miss Longstreth. I don’t need war
rents to search houses," said Dunne.
“I'm sorry to annoy you. I'd prefer
to have your permission. A ruffian
lias taken refuge here—-in your
father's house, lie's hidden some
where. May 1 look for him?"
‘ If you are indeed «i ranger."
Dunne produced his papers. Miss
Longstreth haughtily refused to look
at them.
“Miss Longstreth. I’ve come to
make Fnlrdale a safer, cleaner, bettor
place for women and children. I don t
wonder at your resentment. Put to
doubt me—insult me. Soule day you
may lie sorry.”
Floyd Lawson made a violent mo
tion with his hands.
“All stuff! Cousin, go on with your |
party. I’ll take a couple of cowboys J
and go with this—tlds Texas Hanger.”
“Thanks,” said Duane coolly, as he
eyed Lawson. “Perhaps you’ll he able
to find Snecker quicker than 1 could." ■
“What do you mean?" demanded 1
Ltnvson, add now he grew livid. Rvi- j
dently he was n man of quick pas
sions.
“Don’t quarrel,” said Miss Long- j
streth. “Floyd you go With him. ■
l'lcase hurry. I’ll he nervous till—
the man's found or you’re sure there’s
not one.”
They started with several cowboys to
search the house. It struck Duane
more than forcibly that Lawson tried
to keep In the lend. It was Duane who
peered Into a dark corner and then,
with a gun leveled, said “Come out!"
He came forth Into the flare—a tall,
slim, dark-faced youth, wearing som
brero, Idolise and trousers. Duane
collared him before any of the others
eoultl move and held the gun close
enough to make him shrink. Ho
peered Into Dunne's face. then Into
that of the cowboy next to him. then
Into Lawson's and If ever In Duane's
life licbeheM relje£ H \J itfi tUl'H. TliHt
v ns nil Duane needed lo know, but
lie meant in find out more if bo could.
“Who ’re you?” asked Duane, quiet
ly.
“Ho Snooker.” he said.
“Konger, what ’ll you do with him?”
Dawson queried, ns if uncertain, now
the capture was made.
“I’ll see to that.” replied Duane,
r.nd he pushed Snooker in front of
him out into the court.
Duane had suddenly conceived the
Idea of taking Snooker le-Tore Mayor
Dongstreth in the'court.
Vi lien Dii,me arrived at, the hall
■her,■ court was held there were
other nteu there, a dozen or more, and
. II seemed excited; evidently, news of
Duane had preeeded him. Dongsireth
silt at a table on a platform. Near
him siit a thiek-set grizzled man. with
deept eyes., and this was Hanford
Owens, county judge. To the right,
stood a tall, angular, yellow-faced
fellow with a drooping sandy mus
tache. Conspicuous on his vest was
t lingo silver shield. This was
Gorsedl, one of I.ongst reth’s sheriffs.
There were four other men whom
Duane knew bv sight, several faces
were familiar, mnl half a dozen
strangers, all dusty horsemen.
Ie’tigstrcih pounded bard on the
table to be beard. Mayor or not, he
was unable at once to quell the ex
citement. Gradually, however, it sub
sided, and from the last few utter
ances before quiet was restored
Duane gathered that he bad intruded
upon some kind of a meeting in the
hall.
‘What M you break In here for,”
demanded Longstreth.
“Isn’t this ilie court? Aren't you
tile iiinynr of Fnirdale?” interrogated
Duane. His voice was clear ami
loml. almost piercing.
“Yes,” replied Longstreth. Like
flint be seemed, yet Dunne felt bis
intense interest.
"I've arrested a criminal,” said
Duane.
“Arrested a criminal!” ejaculated
Longstreth. “You? Who are you?"
“I'm a ranger.” replied Duane.
A significant silence ensued.
"I charge Snooker with assault on
Laramie and attempted robbery—if
“That’s a Lie, Longstreth.”
not murder. He’s liud a shady past
here, as lids court will know if ii
. keeps a record.”
“What’s this 1 hear about you, Bo?
j (let up and speak for yourself,” saiil
I Longstreth, gruffly.
Sneoker got up, not without a fur
] five glance at Duane, and he hud
shuttled forward a few steps toward
j ilie mayor. He had an evil front, but
1 not the boldness even of a rustler.
“It ain’t so, Longstreth," he began,
loudly. “I went in Laramie’s place
for grub. Some feller I never seen
before come In from the hall an’ tilt
Laramie an’ wrestled him on the floor
I went out. Then this big ranger
1 chased me an’ fetched am here. 1
didn’t do nothin'. This ranger’s hank
erin’ to arrest somebody, Thet’s my
hunch, Longstreth,”
Longstreth said something in an
undertone to Judge Owens, and that
worthy nodded Ids grout bushy head.
“Bo, you’re discharged,” said Long
streth. bluntly, “Now the rest of you
clear out of here.”
He absolutely ignored tbo ranger.
That was Ids rebuff to Dunne- his
slaii in the face to an tnte-forlng
] ranger service. If Longsttv.h was
1 crooked lie certainly had niagnitlceiit
: nerve. Dunne nine t decided lie was
I above sijsyiciiJU, Hut flis uonoha
1 nnot', his air of finality, his authorit
ative assurance—these to Duane’s
keen ami practised eyes were in sig
nificnnt contrast to a certain tense
ness of line about the mouth nud a
slow paling of his olive skin.
Then the prisoner, Snooker, with a
cough that broke the spell of silence,
shullled a couple of steps toward the
door.
“Hold on!” called Dunne. The call
halted Snooker, as if it had been a
bullet.
“Longstreth, T saw Sneeker attack
Laramie,” said Duane, his voice stil!
ringing. “What has the court to say
to that?”
“The court has this to say. West
of tlio Pecos we'll not aid any ranger
service. Wo don’t, want you out here.
Fairdalo doesn’t need you."
“That's a lie, Longstreth,” retorted
Duane. “I’ve letters from Fairdnle
citizens all hogging for ranger serv
ice."
Longstreth turned white. The veins
corded at his temples. He appeared
about to hurst into rage. He was at
a loss for quick reply.
I’loyd Lawson rushed in and up to
the table. The blood showed black
and thick in his face; his utterance
was incoherent, ins uncontrollable
outbreak of temper seemed out of all
proportion to any cause ho should
reasonably have had for anger. Long
streth shoved him back with u curse
and a warning glare.
“Where’s your warrant t» arrest
Snooker?” shouted Longstreth.
“I don't need warrants to make
arrests. Longstreth, you're ignorant
of the power of Texas Rangers.”
“You’ll come none of your damned
ranger stunts out here. I’ll block
you.”
That passionate reply of Long
streth’s was the signal Duane had
been waiting for. He had helped on
the crisis, lie wanted to force Long
Mretli’s hand and show the town his
stand.
Dunne hacked clear of everybody.
“Men; l call on you nil 1” cried
Duane, piercingly. “1 call on yon to
witness tin* arrest of a criminal pre
vented by Longstreth. mayor of l'nir
dnlo. Ji will lie recorded in the re
port to the Adjutant-General at
Austin. Longstreth, you'll never pre
vent smother arrest.”
Longstreth sat white with working
jaw.
"I.ongstreth," said Duane, in a voice
tliat carried far and hold those who
heard. “Any honest citizen of Fair
dale can now see what’s plain, in
I lie two years you've been mayor
you’ve never arrested one rustler.
Strange, when Fairdale’s a nest for
rustlers' You’ve never sent a prison
er to T>el Itlo, let alone to Austin.
You linye no jail. There have been
nine murders during your ofliee—
innumerable street-fights and hold-ups.
N'ot one arrest! There have been law
suits in your court—suits over water
rights. cattle deals, property lines.
Strange how in these lawsuits you or
Lawson or ’iter men close to you
were always -nlved! Strange how
it seems tin w was stretched to
favor your interest!”
I inane paused in his cold, ringing
speech. In the silence, both outside
and inside the hall, could lie heard
the deep breathing of agitated men.
I.ongstreth was Indeed a study Yet
did lie betray anything but rage at
this interloper.
"I.ongstreth. here's plain talk for
you and Fairdale,” went on Duane.
"I don't accuse you and your court of
dishonesty. I say strange! Law here
has been tt farce. The motive behind
all this laxity isn't plain to me—yet.
Hut I call your hand!”
C’ APTER XVIII.
Dunn? left the hall, elbowed his
way through the crowd, and went
down the street. He was certain that
>n the faces of some men he had seen
11-concealed wonder and satisfaction,
ile had struck some kind of a hot
trail, and he meant to see where It
led. It was by no means unlikely
that Cheseldine might be at the other
end. Duane controlled a mounting
eagerness. But ever and anon it was
shot through with a remembrance of
llay Lohgstroth. lie suspected her
father of being not what he pretended,
lie was troubled.
Upon returning to the inn he found
Laramie there, apparently none the
worse for his injury.
“How are you. Laramie?” he asked.
"That was a good crack Sneeker gave
you.”
“I ain't accusin’ Bo,” remonstrated
Laramie, with eyes that made Duane
thoughtful.
“Well, 1 accuse him. I caught him
—took him to Longstreth’s court. But
they let him go.”
Laramie appeared to he agitated by
this intimation of friendship.
“See here. Laramie," went on
Duane, “in some parts of Texas it’s
policy to he close-mouthed. Policy
and health-preserving! Between our
selves, I want you to know 1 lean
• on your side of the fence.”
Laramie gave a quick start. Pre
sently Duane turned and frankly met
bis gaze. He bad startled Laramie
out of his habitual sot taciturnity;
hut even as be looked the light that
might have been amaze and Joy faded
out of his face, leaving It the same
old mask. Still Duane had seen
enough. Like a bloodhound he had
a scent.
“Talking about work, Laramie,
: who'd you say Sneeker worked for?”
“When tie works at all, which sure
ain’t often, he rices for Longstrcth."
“Humph ! Seems to me that Long
1 streth's the whole cireus round Fair
■ dale. I was surprised to hear some
i one ay I.ongstreth owned the ILpti
So ioinL^ ___ . _ _ _
i
“Ho owns considerable property!
hereabouts,” replied Larmiie, con
strainedly.
“Humph again! Laramie, like every
other fellow 1 met in this town,
you’re afraid to open your trap about
Longstreth. Get me straight, Lara- j
line. For cause I’d throw a gun on
him .just as quick as on any rustler
in Pecos.”
“Talk’s cheap,” replied Laramie,
making light of his bluster, hut the
red was deeper in his face.
“Sure. I know that,” Duane said.
“And usually I don’t talk. Then it’s
not well known that Longstreth
owns the Hope So?”
“Reckon it’s known in Pecos, all ,
right. Rut Longstveth's name isn't
connected wilh the Hope So. Blnndy
runs the place.”
“That Blnndy. His faro game's
crooked, or I'm a locoed hroncli. That
Hope So place ought to he run by a
good fellow like you. Laramie.”
“Thanks,” replied he; and Duane
imagined his voice a little husky.
“Didn’t you hear I used to—run it?
T built tlie place, owned it for eleven
years.”
“Well, i’ll he doggnned.” It was j
indeed Duane’s turn to lie surprised,
and witli the surprise came a glim
mering. “I'm sorry you’re not there i
now. Did you sell out?”
“No. Just lost the place.”
Laramie was bursting for relief
now—to talk, to tell. Sympathy had
made him soft. “It was two years
ago—two yours last March,” he went'
on. “I was in a big cattle deal with 1
Longs!retli. We got the stock—an'
my slmr*, eighteen bundled head,
was rustled off. i owed Longstreth
He pressed me. It came to a law
suit—an’ I—was ruined.”
Il hurt Duane to look at Laramie.
He was white, and tears rolled down
his cheeks. Duane saw the bitterness,
the defeat, the agony of the man.
Hut the reason he did not openly ac
cuse Longstreth, the secret of his
reticence and fear—these Duane
thought best to try to learn at some
later time.
“Hard luck! It certainly was
tough,” Duane said. “But you’re a
good loser. And the wheel turns!
Now, Laramie, here’s what. 1 need
your advice. I’ve got a little money.
Rut before I lose it I want to invest
some. Buy some stock, or buy au
interest in some rancher’s herd.
Sure you must know a couple of men
above suspicion.”
Thank (.0(1 I no, 110 replica,
feelingly. “Frank Morton an’ Si ;
Zimmer, my friends an’ neighbors all [
my prosperous days, an' friends still, j
You can gamble on Frank an’ Si. |
But if you want advice from me—
don’t invest money in stock now.”
“Why?”
“Because any now feller buyin’
1 stock these days will be rustled quick
er ’n ho e*n say Jack Robinson. The
j old ranchers are wise an’ sore.
They’d fight if they—”
“What?” Duane put in as lie
paused. “What ’d make them tight?”
“A leader!”
“Howdy thnr, Jim” boomed a big
voice.
A man of great bulk, with a ruddy,
merry face, entered the room.
“Hello, Morton,” replied Laramie.
“I’d introduce you to my guest here,
but I don’t know his name.”
“Haw! Haw! Tliet’s all right. Few
nun out liyar go by their right
names.”
“Say. Morton,” put in Duane, “Lar
amie gave me a hunch you’d be a
good mail to tie to. Now, I’ve a little
money and before I lose it I'd like to
invest it in stock.”
Morton smiled bro-dly.
“I'm on tlie square,” Duane said,
bluntly. “If you fellows never size up
your neighbors any better than you
have sized me—well, you won’t get
any richer.”
It was enjoyment for Duane to
make his remarks to these men
pregnant with meaning. Morton
showed his pleasure, his interest, hut
his faith held aloof.
“Wal, stranger, to come out flat
footed, yeu'd hv foolish to buy enttle
now. Better go back across the Pecos
where the rustlers ain’t so strong.”
“All T bear is rustlers. Morton,” re- i
plied Duane, with Impatience. “You ;
see, I haven’t ever lived long in a
rustler-run county. Who heads the
gang, anyway?”
Morton looked at Duane with a cur
iously amused smile, then snapped his
lug jaw us if to shut in impulsive
words.
“Look here, Morton. It stands to
reason, no matter how strong these
rustlers are. how hidden their work,
however involved with supposedly
honest men—they can’t last. There
are a lot of men around Fuirdale who
’re afraid of their shadows—afraid to
be out after dark—afraid to open
their mouths. But you’re not one.
What you need out here is some new
blood. Savvy what T mean?"
“Wal, I reckon I do,” he replied,
looking ns If a storm laid blown over
him. "Stranger, I'll look you up the
next time I come to town."
Then he went out.
Laramie had eyes like (lint striking
fire. lie breathed a deep breath and
looked around the room before his
gaze fixed again on Duane.
“Wal,” he replied, speaking low.
“You’ve picked the right men. Now,
who in the hell are you?”
Heaelilng Into the Inside pocket of
his buckskin vest, Duane turned ttie
lining out. A star-shaped bright silver
object flashed as lie shoved it, pocket
and all, under Jim's hard eyes.
“Hunger!” he whispered, cracking
the table with his fist. “You sure
rung true to me.”
“Larumie, do you know who’s boss
of this secret giing of rustlers liere
t
ahnuts?" asked Duane, bluntly. It
was characteristic of him to come
sharp to the point. Mis voice—some
thing deep, easy, cool about him—
seemed to steady Laramie.
“No,” replied Laramie.
“Does anybody know?” went on
Duane.
“Wal, I reckon there’s not one hon
est native who knouts.”
"But you have suspicions?”
“We have,”
“Have you any idea whether Chesei
dine and his pant; are associated with
this pang here?” «
“Lord knows. I’ve always suspect
ed them bein’ the same pang. None of
us e'er seen Cheseldlne—an’ thet’s
strange when Knell, Hoggin, Pan
handle Smith, Blossom Kane, and
Fletcher, they all ride here often. No,
Hoggin doesn’t come here often. But
the others do. For thet matter,
they’re around all over west of the
Pecos.”
“Now I’m puzzled over lids." said
Duane. “Why do men apparently
honest men—seem to he so dose
mouthed here? Is that a fact, or only
my impression?”
“It’s sure a fact," replied Laramie,
darkly. “Men have lost cattle an’
property in Fairdale—lost them hon
estly or otherwise, as hasn’t been
proved. An’ in some cases when they
talked—hinted a little—they was
found dead. Apparently held up an’
robbed. But dead. Dead men don’t
talk! Thet’s why we’re close
inoutlicd.”
The ranger was about to speak
again when the clatter of hoofs in
terrupted him. Horses halted out
in front, and one rider got down.
Floyd I.awson entered. He called for
tobacco.
If his visit surprised Laramie he
did not show any evidence. Hut Law
son showed rage as he saw the ranger,
and then a dark glint flitfc'd from the
eyes that shifted from Duane to
Laramie and back again. Duane
leaned easily against the counter.
“Say, that was a had break of
yours.” Lawson said. “If you come
fooling around the ranch again
there'll he hell.”
It seemed strange that a man who
had lived west of the Pecos for ten
years could 'not see in Duane some
thing which forbade that kind of talk.
It certainly was not nerve Lawson
showed; men of courage were seldom
intolerant. With the matchless nerve
that characterized the great gunmen
of the day there was a cool, unob
trusive manner, a speech brief, almost
gentle, certainly courteous. Lawson
was a hot-headed Louisianian of
trench extraction; a man, evidently,
who had never been crossed in any
thing, and who was strong, brutal,
passionate, which qualities in the face
of a situation like this made him
simply a fool.
“You’re right. But not the kind
you think,” Duane retorted, his voice
sharp and cold.
“Hay Longstreth wouldn’t stoop to
know u dirty blood-tracker like you,”
said Lawson hotly. He did not seem
to have a deliberate intention to rouse
Duane; tlie man was simply rancor
ous, jealous. “I’ll call you right.
You cheap bluffer! You four-flush!
You damned interfering, conceited
ranger!”
“Lawson, I’ll not lake offense, be
cause you seem to be championing
your beautiful cousin," replied Iuinno,
in slow speech, “But let me return
your compliment. You're a f te South
erner; Why, you’re only a four-flush—
u cheap bull-headed rustler!"
Duane hissed the last word. Then
for him there was the truth in Law
son's working passion-blackened face.
Lawson Jerked, moved, meant to
draw. But how slow! Duane lunged
forward. His long arm swept up.
And Lawson staggered backward,
knocking table and chairs, to fall
hard, in a half-sitting posture against
the wall.
"Don’t draw!” warned Duane.
“Lawson, git away from your gun!”
yelled Laramie*.
But Lawson was crazed with fury,
lb- tugged at his hip, his face corded
with purple welts, malignant, murder
ous. l'unne kicked the gun out of
his hand. Lawson get up, raging, and
rushed out.
Laramie lifted his shaking hands.
“What ’d you wing him for?" he
wail'd. "lie was drawin' on yon.
Kickin' men like him won't do out
here.”
“That bull-headed fool will roar and
butt himself with all his gnng right
Into our hands. He’s just the man
I've needed to meet."
“If T.nwson’s the man you think he
is he’ll begin thet secret underground
business. VVliy, Lawson won’t sleep of
nights now. He nil’ lamgstreth have
always been after me.”
“Laramie, what nre your eyes for?”
demanded Duane. “Watch out. And
now here. See your friend Morton.
Tell him this game grows hot. To
gether you approach four or five men
you know well and can absolutely
trust. 1 may need your help.”
Then Duane went from place to
pluce, corner to corner, bar to bar,
watching, listening, recording. The
excitement had preceded him, and
speculation was rife. He thought
best to keep out of it. After dark
he stole up to Longstreth’s ranch.
The evening was worth; the doors
were open; and In the twilight the
only lamps that had been lit wi re in
Longstreth’s big sitting-room, at the
far end of the house. When a buck
board drove up and Longstreth and
Lawson alighted, Dunne was well
hidden in the bushes, so well sc reel let I
that he could get but n fleeting
glimpse of Longstreth ns he went In.
For all Dunne could see, he appeared
to he a calm and quiet man, Intense
beneath the surfnce, with an air of
dignity under Insult. Duane’s chance
to observe Lawson was lost. They
went into the house without speaking
and closed the door.
At the other end of the porch, close
under a window, was an offset be
tween .step and wall, anil there In
the shadow Dunne hid. So Duane
waited there In the darkness with
patience born of many hours of hill
ing.
Presently a lamp was lii : and
Duane lieurd the swish of skirls.
"Something’s happened surely,
Jtuth," he heard Miss Longstreth say.
anxiously. “I’apa just met me ill
the hall and didn’t speak. lie seemed
pale, worried.”
“Cousin Floyd looked like a
tliupder-cloud," said ltutli. "For once
lie didn’t try to kiss me. Something’s
happened.”
“Oh, dear! Ruth, whnt can we do?
These are wild men. Floyd makes life
miserable for me. And he teases you
u timer—”
I don’t mil It tonsinp. Floyd wants
lo spoon,” declared Until. ranpluitl
eall.v. "He'd run after any woman.”
“A fine compliment for me. Cousin
Until,” lauptied Kay.
"I don't cure," replied Until, stub
bornly. "It's so. lie’s mushy. Ami
when he’s been drinking and tries to
kiss me—T hate him!”
There were steps on the hall floctr.
“Hello, girls!” sounded out Law
sen’s voice, minus Its usual gayety.
“Floyd, wlint’s Ihe matter?” asked
Itay, presently. "I never saw papa as
lie Is to-uight, nor you so—so worried.
Tell me, what has happened?”
“We had to submit to a damnable
outrage,” replied Lawson, passionate
ly, as if the sound of his voice aug
|*
“The Unspeakable Ruffian!”
mented his feeling. “Listen. girls; HP
tell yoti about if.” , Ho coughed, oloar
ed his throat in a way that betrayed
ho had horn drinking.
Dliano sank deeper into the shadow*
of his covert, and, stiffening his;
muscles for a protracted spell of!
rigidity, prepared to listen with all
acuteness and Intensity. .lust one
word from this Lawson, inadvertently
uttered in a moment of passion, might
he tlie word Duane needed for his
eiue.
(Continued Next VVeeK.j
Hearing Power ef Cat.
Tiie aeuteuess of tlie average oafs
sense of hearing is proverbial, hut it
Is a proverb that needs qualifying. !’**■
example, many white rats aye absolute
ly deaf, and though the Idea may ap
pear absurd at first sight, it is believed
by some students that the color of a cat
is associated with its sense of hearing.
Among several imported Persians, or
long-haired **at8, from abroad, not one
white one in the number has been able,
to hear the slightest sound. Of eou'hjt*
there are white cats that could Ur<wv
hut they have been the excepting), 4001
that applies as much to the short
haired [>ets or the fireside as to the
aristocratic long hair of the shows.
Moreover, the white cats dullest of
hearing are those with blue eyes.