me LONE- *
<5L\B PANGED.
a romance: or T/ir border^.
PffZAlsL GREY
AUTHOR OF
"THE LIGHT OF WESTERN
STARS"
"RIDERS OF THE PURPLE
SAGE", ETC.
COPYRIGHT. BY HARffR AND BKOTMtli
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—In Well stop. Toth**. It
becomes with Buckley Duane a cas< of
fi-ht or run from Cal Bain. Dunne kills
bis man and becomes an outlaw.
CHAPTER II—He meets Luke Stev
ens. an outlaw.
CHAPTER ITI Stevens poos into tbe
town of Mercer to buy supplies and i«
shot by a rancher. Duane buries hir
CTT \PTER TV—Duane goes to Bland
' ’■ stronghold in the Kim Rock art
snooting Bosomer. who quarre
D, him over Stevens' death. decbb
<•» stay there. Euchre takes Duane f<
u partner and t«*!ls him about Blau
Haw chief nd his band.
CHAPTER V—Duane practices gun*
hrowing and hears more about Plane !
*nd his gang.
CHAPTER VT—Euchre and Duane
call on Kate. Bland’s wife, and Jennie
a girl whom Benson kidnaped and sob
to Bland.
CHAPTER VII— Euchre and Duane
conspire to take Jennie away. Duane
prevents a wanton murder.
CHAPTER VITT—Mrs. Bland makes
love to Duane and he uses her to fur
ther his plans. Bland returns from n
trip. He asks Duane to join the band
Ho Is jealous of Duane and abuses Kate
and Jennie.
CHAPTER IX—Euchre kills Benson
Is killed bv Alio way, Duane kills Allo
vvav and Bland and escapes, wounded,
with Jennie. In a deserted hut in the
mesquite Jennie nurses him.
CHAPTER X—When Duane 1« strong
enough they travel out of the Rim Rock
to a rancher’s house, where l>nnn< re
covers. On their way to Shelby villr
Jennie Is carried off by outlaws while
Duane is away looking for a strayed
horse.
CHAPTER XT—After vain soar- b for
Jennie, whose abductor he kills. Duan»
loads the lone-wolf 1 if*• for niur»» Ilian i
three years, finally getting a messatr** !
from Captain McNelly of the rangers
asking him to come to the captain's .
camp after dark.
CHAPTER XTT—1The message is sev
eral times repeated. Duane is chased by ]
a lynching party.
CHAPTER XIII—A price on his bend
and accused of murdering a woman.
Duane rides into Shirley to deny the
murder. After a narrow escape from
lynching, he proves his innocence and is
allowed to go.
CHAPTER XTV—He goes to M- Noll v‘s
ranger camp. MeNelly offers him par- |
don and social restoration if ha will j
become a ranger and clean out the i
Cheseldine gang in the Big 1’* nd enun- j
try.
CHAPTER XV—Ruck Duane, ranger
strikes the Rig lhnd country and be
gins work. Cheseldine is a mystery, a
power and a horror to the country.
CHAPTER XVT Colonel Rnngstrcth’s
daughter Ray. and her cousin. Ruth
Herbert, are held up Dunne shoots
one of the robbers, but is puzzled by
the colonel’s conduct.
CHAPTER XVTT—In Fairdnle Duane
makes friends with Iramie, and cap
turing a man who has held up Laramie
takes him before Longstnth. mayor of
Fairdale. who discharges the thief
without a hearing. Duane calls Long
Btreth's hand before several honest men
CHAPTER XVIII—Duane whips Law
eon a nephew of Rongstreth He or
ganizes resistance to Longstreths
crooked methods.
CHAPTER XIX—Laramie is found
rtrnd, a bullet hole in his breast. Ray
meets Puane and asks for his friend
ship. She suspects her father of crook
ed practices.
“If you don’t like tin1 way I talk you
know what you can do," replied Long
Streth, quickly. He stood up then,
cool and quiet, with flash of o^'es and
set of lips that told I>uane he was
dangerous.
“Well, after all, that’s neither here
nor there,” went on Lawson, uncon
sciously cowed h.v the other. “The
thing is, do I got the girl?”
“Not by any menus except her con
sent.”
"You’ll make nor marry me?
"No. No,” replied* Longstreth, hiS
voice still cold, low-pitched.
“Ail right. Then I’ll make her.”
Evidently Longstreth understood
the man before him so well that ho
wasted no more words. Duane knew
what Lawson never dreamed of, and
that was that Longstreth had a gun
somewhere within reach and meant
to use it. Then heavy footstep3
souuded outside tramping upon the
porch. Duane believed those foot
steps saved Lawson’s life.
“There they are,” said Lawson, and
he opened the door.
Five masked men entered. They
all wore eoats hiding any weapons.
A big man with burly shoulders
shook hands with Longstreth, and the
others stood hack.
The atmosphere of the room had
changed. Lawson might have been a
nonentity for all lie counted. Long
streth was another man—a stranger
to Duane. If he had entertained a
hope of freeing himself from this
hand, of getting away to a safer
country, he abandoned It at the very
sight of these men. There was power
here, and he was bound.
The big man spoke in low. hoarse
whispers, and at this all the others
gathered around him close to the
table. There were evidently some
signs of membership not plain to
Duane. Then all the heads were
bent over the table. Low voices
spoke. <;in i-jianswered. argil.-d
liy si raining iii' •'.■it' u«* caught :i
word Iwi'f and there. They were
planning. and they wore* 1 n-i*•!'. Dunne
gathered they were to have a rende/i
. ons nl or near (trd.
rrInm the hi;: iinin, wlio evidently
was the louder of the present cun
ventimi, got ii|t to depart. lie wont
tts swiftly ns ho hud come, mid wtis
'ollowed hy his comrades. Longstreth
■reparnl for n quiet smote. Lawson
reined miooimmmiontive mid nil
oeinhle. lie smoked fiercely nfld
•rank continually. All at once he
traiphtened up as if listening.
“What’s that?” he called suddenly.
Dunne's strained ears were pervad
'd hy a slight rustling sound.
“Must he a rat.” replied Longstreth.
The rustle became a rattle.
“Sounds like a rattlesnake to me.”
aid Lawson.
Longstreth trot up from the tnhle
ind peered round the room.
Just at that moment Duane felt
n almost inappreohthle movement of
he adohe wall which supported him.
le could scarcely orislit his senses,
'.ut the rattle Inside I.ongstreth’s
oom was mingling with little dull
itids of falling dirt. The adohe wall,
lorel.v dried mud, was crumbling.
Mlfine distinctly felt a tremor pass
ii'ough it. Then the hlood gushed
uck to his heart.
“What in the hell!” exclaimed
.ongstreth.
“1 smell dust," said Lawson, sharp
s'.
That wns a signal fur Duane to
rop down from his p< rcli, yet de- j
pile iiis eare he made a noise.
“Did you hear, a step?” queried j
xmgstreth.
No one answered. But a heavy ;
ilece of the adobe wall fell with a
hud. Duane heard it craek, felt It
thake.
“There’s somebody between the
.vails."’ thundered I.i ngstroth.
Then a section of the wall fell In
vard with u crash. Duane begun to
queoze his body through the narrow
passage toward the patio.
"Hear him !” yelled Lawson. “This
side!”
“No. lie’s going that way,” yelled
Longstivth.
The tramp of heavy hoots lent
Duane the strength of desperation.
He was not shirking a light, but to
he cornered like a trapped coyote was
another matter. He almost tore his
clothes off in that passage. The dust
nearly siiMod him. When lio burst in
to tho patio it was not an instant too
soon. Hut otm (loop tnsp of breath
revived liim and ho was up, gun in
hand, running for tin* outtot into the
court. Thumping footsteps turned him
hack. Wiiile there was n chance to
got away lie did not want to fight.
He thought he hoard someone run
ning into the patio from the other end.
He stole along, and coining to a door,
without any idea of where it might
load, ho softly pushed it open a little
way and slipped in.
CHAPTER XXI.
A low cry greeted Dunne. The
room was light. He saw Hay Long
streth sitting on her bed In her dress
ing gown. With a warning gesture to
her to lie silent ho turned to olose the
door. It was a heavy door without
holt or lair, and when Duane had shut
it he felt safe only for tile moment.
Then he gazed around the aooni.
There was one window with blind
;ly drawn, U',* listened and seem
fd to hear footsteps retreating, (tying,
a way.
Then Dunne turned to Miss I.nng
streth. S!:e had slipped off the bed,
hntf to her knees, and was holding out
tn-milling hands. She was as white
! as tlie pillow of her bed. She was
terribly frightened. Again with warn
I ing hand commanding silence. Duane
! .su pped softly forward, meaning to
1 reassure her.
I “Oil!” she whispered wildly; and
Duane thought she was going to faint.
| When be got close and looked into
1 Inr eyes be understood the strange,
dark expression in them. Site was
terrified because she believed he
j meant to kill her. or do worse, prob
i ably worse. Duane realized he must
have looked pretty hard and fierce
I bursting into her room with that big
j gun in hand.
The way she searched Dunne’s face
with doubtful, fearful eyes hurt him.
“Listen. I didn’t know this was
iour room. I came here to get away
—to save my life. 1 was pursued. I
was spying on your father and his
men. They heard me, but did not see
no. They don’t know who was listen
n.g. They're after mo now.”
Her eyes changed from blank gulfs
to dilating, shadowing, quickening
.vindows of thought.
Then she stood up and faced Duane
with the lire and intelligence of a
woman in her eyes.
“Toll me now. You were spying on
my father?”
Kriollv Duane told her what had
happened before he entered her rooti),
not omitting a terse word as to the
character of tlie* men lie had watched.
“My Dod ’ So it’s that? 1 knew
something was terribly wrong here—
with him—with the place— Unpeople.
And right off I hated Floyd mwson.
<>li. it ’ll kMl me if —if— It’s so much
worse than I dreamed. What shall
i do?”
The sound of soft steps somewhere
near distracted Duane’s attention,
reminded him of her peril, and now,
what counted more with him. made
clear the probability of being discover
ed in her room.
Ill have to got out of here,
whispered Duane.
“Wait,” she replied. “Didn't you
say they were hunting for you?”
“They sure are,” lie returned, grim
ly.
"Oh, then you mustn't go. They
1 might shunt yon. Stay. If we hear
| them you can hide. I'll turn out the
light. I'll meet them at the door.
You eandrust me. Wait till all quiets
: down, if we have to wait till mom
! ing. Then you can slip out.”
j “I oughtn’t to stay. I don’t want
1 to—I won't,” Duane replied, perplex
ed and stubborn.
“But you must. It’s the only safe
way. They won’t come here.”
“Suppose they should? It’s an even
chance I.ongsfreth ’ll search every
room and corner in this old house. If
they found me hete 1 couldn’t start
a fight. You might lie hurt. Then—
the fact of my being here—”
Duane did not finish what he meant,
but Instead made a step toward the
door. White of face and dark of eye,
she took la id of him to detain him.
Site was ns strong and supple as a
panther. But she need not have been
either resolute or strong, for the elasp
of her hand was enough to make :
Duane weak.
“Up yet. Bay?” camp T.ongstreth’s
clear voice, too strained, too eager to
he natural.
“Xo. I’m In bed reading. Good
night,” instantly replied Miss I.ong
streth, so calmly and naturally that
Duane marveled at tin* difference be
tween man and woman. Then she
motioned for Dunne to hide in the
closet. He slipped in. but the door
would not close altogether.
“Are you alone?" went on Long
streth's penetrating voice.
“Yes,” she replied. “Ruth went to
bed.”
The floor swung Inward with n swift
scrape and jar. I.ongstrelh half en
tered, haggard. fl:nning-e.ved. Behind
him Duane saw Dawson, and indis
tinctly another ninn.
Longstretli barred Lawson from en
tering, which action showed control ns
well ns distrust. He wanted to see
into the room. When he had glanced
around he went out and closed the
door.
Then what seemed a long Interval
ensued. The house grew silent once
more. Duane could not see Miss
Longstretli, Injt he heard her quick
breathing.
ITesently he pushed open the closet
door and stepped forth. Miss Long
streth had her head lowered upon her
arms and appeared to be in distress.
At his touch she raised a quivering
f^tce.
“I Utinlc I can go now—safely,” he
whispered.
“Oo then, if you must, but you may
stay tiil you’re safe.” she replied.
‘‘I—I couldn’t thank you enough.
It's been hard on me—this finding
out—and you his daughter. I feel
strange. T don’t understand myself
well. But 1 want you to know—if I
were not an outlaw—a ranger—I’d lay
my life at your feet.”
“Oh! You have seen so—so little
of me.” she faltered.
“All the same It’s true. And that
mokes me feel more the trouble iny!
coming caused you."
“You will not fight my father?”
“N'ot if 1 can help It. I'm trying
to got out of the way.”
“But you spied upon him.”
“I am a ranger. Miss Longstretli.”
“And oh! I am a rustler’s daughter,”
she cried. “That’s so much more ter
rible than I'd suspected. It was
tricky cattle deals I imagined he was
I encaged in. But only ti night i had
sirotrr suspicions aroused."
“How? Tell rue.”
“I overheard Floyd say tint men
were coming to-night to arrange a
meeting for my fatlu r at a rendezvous
near Ord. Father did not want to go.
Floyd taunted him with a name,”
“What name?” queried Duane.
“It was C'heseldine.”
“C'heseldine! My God! Miss T.ong
Streth, why did you tell me that?”
“What difference does that make?”
“Tour father and C'heseldine are one
and the same,” whispered Duane,
hoarsely.
“I gathered so much myself,” she re
plied, miserably. "Hut I.ongstreth is
father’s real name.”
Duane felt so stunned that lie could
not speak at once. It was the girl’s
part in this tragedy that weakened
him. The instant she betrayed the
secret Duane realized per! etly that
lie loved tier. The emotion was like
a great flood.
“Miss I.ongstreth. all this seems so
unbelievable,” he whispered. “Chesel
dine is a rustler chief I’ve come out
here to get. He’s only a name. V'onr
father is the real man. I've sworn
to get hitn. I’m bound by more than
law or oaths. I can’t break what
binds me. And I must disgrace you—
wreck your life! Why. Miss I.ong
streth, I believe I— 1 love you. It's
all come in a rush. I'd die for you
if I could. How fatal—terrible—this
is! How things work out!”
She slipped to. her knees, with her
hands on his.
“You won't kill him?” she Implored.
“If you care for me—you won’t kill
him.”
“No. That I promise you.”
With a low moan she dropped her
head upon the bed.
Duane opened the door and stealth
ily stole out through the corridor to
the court. But long after he had
tramped out into the open there was
a lump in his throat and an ache in
his breast.
CHAPTER XXII.
Dunne hnd decided to go to Ord
mill try to find the rendezvous where
Longstreth was #to meet his men.
These men Duane wanted even more
tlinii their leader. It was I'oggin who
needed to be found and stopped.
I’oggin and his right-hand men!
The night of the day before he
reached Bradford. No. 0, the mail and
express train going east, was held up
by train-robberies, the Wei Is-I’argo
messenger killed over his safe, the
mail-clerk wounded, the bags carried
away. The engine No. (! came into
town minus even a tender, atul en
gineer and fireman told conflicting
stories. A posse of railroad men and
citizens, led by a sheriff Duane sus
pected was crooked, was made up be
fore the engine steamed back to pick
up the rest of the train. Dunne had
the sudden inspiration that he had
been cudgeling his mind to find; and,
acting upon it, he mounted his horse
again and left Bradford unobserved.
He rode at an easy trot most of
the night, selected an exceedingly
rough, roundabout, and difficult course
Fletcher and Others Saw Him,
to Ord, hid his tracks with the skill
of a long-hunted fugitive, and arrived
there with his horse winded and cov
ered with lather. It added consider
able to his arrival that the man
Duane remembered as Fletcher and
several others saw him come in the
hack way through the lots and jump
a fence into the road.
Duane led Bullet up to tlm porch
whore Fletcher stood wiping his
beard. He was hatless, vestless, and
evidently had just enjoyed a morning
drink.
“Ilowdy, Dodge,” said Fletcher,
laconically.
Duane replied, and the oilier man
returned the greeting with interest.
“Jim. my boss ’s done up. I want
to little him from any eharice tourists
as might happen to ride up curious
like.”
“Haw! haw! haw!”
Duane gathered encouragement
from that chorus of coarse laughter.
“Wal, if them tourists ain't too
durned snooky the boss 'll he safe
in the ’dobe shack back of Bill's here.
Feed tlmr. too, hut you’ll hev to rus
tle water."
Duane led Bullet to the place indi
cated. had care of his welfare, and
left him there. I'pon returning to
the tavern poreh Dunne saw the group
of men had been added to by others.
| some of w hom lit* had seen before.
! Without comment Duane walked
along the edge of the road, nnd wher
ever one of the tracks of his horse
showed he carefully obliterated It.
This procedure was attentively
| watched by Fletcher and his com
; panions.
“Wal, Dodge,” remarked Fletcher,
as Duane returned, “thet’s safer ’n
prayin’ fer rain.”
Duane's reply was a remark as
loquacious as Fletcher’s, to the effect
that a long, slow, monotonous ride
was conducive to thirst. They all
joined him, unmistakably friendly.
Rut Knoll was not there, and most i
assuredly not Poggin. Fletcher was
no common outlaw, hut, whatever his
ability, it probably lay in execution
of orders. Apparently at that time
these men had nothing to do hut
drink and lounge around the tavern.
Duane set out to make himself agree
able and succeeded. All morning men
came and went, until, ail told, Duane
calculated he had seen at least fifty.
Toward the middle of the afternoon
n young fellow burst into the saloon
and yelled one worn:
"Posse!”
From the scramble to get outdoors
Duane judged that word nnd the en
suing action was rare in Ord.
"What’s all this?" muttered Fletch
er, as he gazed down the road ut a
dark, compact hunch of horses and
riders. "Fust time I ever seen thet
In Ord! Wish Phil was here or Poggy.
Now all you gents keep quiet. I’ll do
the talkin’.”
The posse entered the town, trotted
up on the dusty horses, and halted
in a hunch before the tavern. The
party consisted about twenty men, all
heavily armed, and evidently in
charge of a clean-cut, lean-limbed
cowboy. Duane experienced consider
able satisfaction at the absence of the
sheriff who he had understood was
to lead the posse. Perhaps he was
out in another direction with a differ
ent force.
“Hello, Jim Fletcher,” cnlled the
cowboy.
Howdy,” replied Fletcher.
At this short, dry response nnd the
way he strode leisurely out before the
posse Duane found himself mollifying
his contempt for Fletcher. The out
law was different now.
“Fletcher, we've tracked a man to
all but three miles of this place.
Tracks as plain ns the nose on your
face. Found his camp. Then he hit
Into the brush, an' we lost the trail.
Didn’t have no tracker with us. Think
he went into the mountains. Rut
we took a chance an’ rid over the rest
of the way, seein’ Ord was so close.
Anybody come in here late last night
I or early this mornin'?"
I “Nope,” replied Fletcher.
His response was what Dunne had
j expected from his manner, nnd evi
dently the cowboy took it as a matter
of course. He turned to the others
of the posse, entering Into a low con
sultation. Evidently there was differ
ence of opinion, if not real dissension,
in that posse.
^Didn’t I tell ye this was a wild
goose chase, coinin' way out here?"
protested an old hawk-faced rancher.
“Them hoss tracks we follored ain't
like any of them we seen at the
water-tank where the train was held
up.”
"I’m not sure of that," replied the
leader.
“Wnl, Guthrie, I've follored tracks
all my life—”
“But you couldn’t keep to the trail
this feller made in the brush.”
“Gimme time, an’ I could. Thet
takes time. An' henli you go hell-bent
for election! Rut It's a wrong lead
out this way. Tf you’re right, this
road-agent, after he killed his pals,
would hev rid hack right through town.
An’ with them mailbags! Supposin'
they Wits greasers? Some greasers
has sense, an’ when It conies to tiller
! in' they’re shore cute.”
“lint we am t got any reason to be
lieve this robber who murdered the
greasers is a greaser himself. I tell
you it was n sliek job, done by no
ordinary sneak. Didn’t you hear the
facts? One greaser hopped the engine
an' covered the engineer an' fireman.
Another greaser kept flashin’ his gun
outside the train. The big man who
shoved back the car door an’ did the
killin’—-he was the real gent, an’ don't
you forget it.”
Some of the posse sided with the
cowboy leader and some with the old
cattleman. Finally the young leader
disgustedly gathered up his bridle.
“Aw, hell ! Thet sheriff shoved yon
off this trail. Mebhe he lied reason!
Savvy thet? If I bed a bunch of cow
boys with me—I tell you what. I'd tuke
a chance and clean up this hole!”
All the while Jim Fletcher stood
quietly with his hands in his pockets.!
“Guthrie. I'm shore treasurin’ up j
your friendly talk," he said. The i
menace was in the tone, not the con
tent of his speech.
“You can—tin’ be damned to you,
Fletcher!" called Guthrie, as the
horses started.
Fletcher, standing out alone before
th(> others of his clan, watched the
posse out of sight.
"I.iiek fer yon-all thet Foggy wasn’t ,
here.” he said, as they disappeared.
Then with a thoughtful mien he
strode up on the porch and led Duane
away from the others into the bar
room. When he looked into Dunne's
face It was ‘somehow an entirely
changed scrutiny.
“Dodge, w low'd you hide the stulT?
I reckon 1 git in on this deal, sit in’
I staved off Guthrie.”
Duane played his part. Here was
Ids opportunity, and like a tiger after
prey he seized it. First lie coolly
eyed the outlaw and then disclaimed
tiny knowledge whatever of the train
robbery other than Fletcher Inid heard
himself. Then at Fletcher’s persist
ence nnd admiration and Increasing
show of friendliness he laughed oc
casionally and allowed himself to
swell with pride, though still denying.
I.ater, when Duane started up an
nouncing his intention to get his hors
nnd make for camp out in the brush
Fletcher seemed grievously offended.
“Why don’t you stay with me? T’ve
got a comfortable ’(lobe over here.
Didn’t I stick by you when Guthrie
an’ his bunch come up? Supposin' I
hedn’t showed down n cool hand to’
him? You’d be swingin’ somewhores
now. I tell you. Dodge, it ain’t
square.”
“I’ll square it. I pny my debts,”
replied Duane. “But I can’t put up
here all night. If I belonged to the
gang It ’d be different.”
“What gang?” asked Fletcher, blunt
ly.
“Why, Cheseldine’s.”
Fletcher’s beard nodded as tils jaw
dropped.
Dunne laughed. "I run into him
the other day. Knowed him on sight.
Bure, he’s the king-pin rustler. When
be seen me an’ asked me what reason
I had for bein’ on earth or some such
like—why, I up an’ told hitn.”
Fletcher appeared staggered.
“Who in all-fired hell air you taikta’
about ?”
“Didn’t I tell you once? Chesekline.
He calls himself Longstreth over
there.”
All of Fletcher's fnce not covered
by hair turned a dirty white
“ (’heseldine — Longstre'th !” he
whispered, hoarsely. “God Alm'ghiyt
You braced the—" Then a remarkable
transformation came over the outlaw.
He gulped; he straightened his face;
he controlled his agitation. But he
could not send the healthy brown
back to his face. Duane, watching this
rude man, marveled at the change In
him, the sudden checking.-movement,
the proof of a wonderful fear and
loyalty. It all meant Cheseldine, a
master of men!
■ wno air you r queried t leiener, in
n queer, strained voice.
“You guve me a handle, didn’t you?
Dodge, Thet's as good ns any. Shore
It hits me hard. Jim, I've been pretty
lonely for years, an’ I’m gettin’ In
need of pals. Think It over, will you?
See you nianana.”
The outlaw watched Duane go off
after his horse, watched him ns he re
turned to the tavern, watched him
ride out In the darkness—all without
a word.
Duane left the town, threaded a
quiet passage through cactus and tiies
quite to a spot he had marked l>efor».
and passed the night. His mind was
so full that lie found sleep ah>of.
Luck at Inst was playing Ids game.
He sensed the first slow heave of a
mighty erlsis. The end, always haunt
ing, had to be sternly Wotted from
thought. It was the approach that
needed all his mind.
T-atP In the morning he returned £o
f>rd. If Jim Fletcher tried to disguise'
his surprise, the effort wus a failure.
CVrtalnl.v he had not expected to see
Dunne ngain. Dunne allowed himself
it little freedom with Fletcher, nil at
i It ml** hitherto lacking.
That afternoon n horseman rude In
'rofu I’.radford, an outlaw evidently
well known and liked by his fellows,
and Dftnne heard him eay, before he
could possibly • have been told the
irnin-robber was- In Ord, that the loss
>f money in the hold-up was slight.
Like a flash Duane siiw the luck of
ihis report. He pretended not to have
hoard.
In the early twilight at an opportune
moment lie called Fletcher to hint,
and, linking his arm within the out
law's, be drew him off iu a stroli to
fftowafiow,
“God Almighty! You BracM the
a log bridge spanning a little (ullr.
Here after gazing around, he took out
a roll of bills, spread it niff, split it
equally, and without a wn'rd handed
one half to Fletcher. Wiih clmnsje
fingers Fletcher ran through the rot*.
•‘Five hundred!" he ea,claitue<h.
“Dodge, thet's damn handsome of yout,
considerin’ tjie Job wasn't—" '
“Considerin’ nothin',’’ Interrupted
Duane. “fni niaklu' no reference to
a job jiere or there. You did uqs, a
good turn. I split my pile. If that
doesn't- make us partis, gix'sl turns
an' money ain't no use in Hits eoutt
try."
Fletcher was won.
i
t continued Next Week,j