The Key West Citizen Newspaper, August 9, 1952, Page 8

Page 8 THE KEY WEST CITIZEN Saturday, August 7, 1792 —_—_—- BARNEY GOOGLE AND SHUFF- SMTi WHY, THANK YOU, HOWDY, TIGER! YE BEEN TO TH’ STORE,I SEE-- HERE !! LET me TOTE THAT BIG PASSEL UPITER PLUVIU 1S RETURNING FROM “THE NEAR-BY DESERT! How COME i sity’ You DIDN'T GO INTO THIS BEAUTY ) CAREER contest ?_£ TOTHINK | ! wn ~ ( ozark, DINAN... 21P AND | HAVE JUST SET TH DATE —BESIDES, VERA AND YR SOME OF THOSE OTHE HAVE MY | GiRLS ARE TERRIBLY CUTE” YOU'RE SO KIND AND THOUGHTFUL, SNUFFIKINS 1 BROUGHT BACK "SOMETHING " SHOW EY... Tease. |. APL ENUM! THANK YOU FOR CAA ANG MY (D 8-DONE | | ZEPFERMINT STICKS, SNUFF Y-- TH' SAME | | THE OTHER PACKAGE GOES FER TO YOUR WIFE--1 DID rs ENNYBOD’ | LOWEEZY'S SHOPPING ‘i 7. : FOR HER OH-NO/ HE MUST HAVE BEEN ON ONE ONE OF THOSE DORMITORY RAIDS! You MEAN THE RAIN 2 MAKES GERANI MUMS MPETE WITH (HM-M) WULL, WE RE FIVE FULL VY \ou'ee SWEET/—Bur I THINK VERA IS THE PRETTIEST GIRL IN — DON'T FORGET WE HAVE To PICK HER uP/— HONK / OH,NO! THEY'LL BE GORED... KILLED! + $0 1F'N YUH WANTA HASTEN TH’ DAY, ZIP, YUH BETTUH THROW AWAY THEM CRUTCHES AN’ GIT YO'SELF BACK 1N TH LINEUPS HFLL'S HORSEMAN BY WILLIAM HOPSON LH JPA? Newsteatures pter Five ‘Why, Belle Ramson!” Helen) E sat there, wai claimed, in mock dismay. “I be-} ve you could play a good hand f poker yourself.” yes d i “I ought to be able to, darling. squinting a little harder, while) Dad taught me early enough. And the man dumped his saddle and| King is a good gambler, . ..” its sweat-dampened blanket into| She said something else too; a seat. | something that Helen didn't hear. Then he strolled over and stood | Her eyes had gone back again to above the players, {the quiet man farther up the “Mind if I git in the game, stran- | Coach, and now she saw something gers?” he asked of Rundert and, that had escaped the notice of the the others, “It's a free country,” Rundert grunied in reply, | McBain sat down and reached for a big leather purse, | A blast of cold air hit the coach! and the two girls came in, closing the door behind them. Montana saw she of the golden hair go to the man in the business suit, who looked up with a frown of disap- proval. “Now. now,” she anticipated teasingly, “it’s cold in there and we're tired of sitting practically alone. And I'm terribly bored, Dad.” | Montana watched the game, from his position further back, | thankful that McBain had not no- ticed him when the man entered the coach, For theré was a little| doubt but that he would recognize the man he had tried to kill only a few hours before. The gir in the open space in front of now warm stove, Helen Forres! looking over her father’s shoulde: the other woman beside her. Mc Bain had pulled out a firewood box from back of the stove and sat on it in the aisle, while a big square board on the laps of the! others served as a table, It’s coming, Montana _ thought. It’s got to come because he knows who I am. It’s coming. It was coming, He sat there, watching the flick ering lights play upon He!en For- rest’s aristocratic, almost hau*htv face. Beautiful. she was, and the sight of her roused some within him. Forrest tried a b!::7, then drew down his hand as Mc- Bain chuckled and raked in the pot. Montana heard the older of the two young women Say to For- rest: ‘hat’s lessor number one.” “Such as?” “Don't try to bluff one of these! Westerners in any kind of game «.. Specifically poker.” ‘ | his right hand began sliding back | toward the heavy pistol at his hip. others. At the mention of Belle’s name, the man’s fingers, clamped around a long cigar, had jerked tight until the band burst. She couldn't understand—not knowing that at. mention of Belle’s name, something strange, a voice Mon- tana heard clearly within, had} cried out: “Belle Ramson! King Ramson’s daughter. Then this woman is: my half-sister!” At that moment the train gave a lurch and two of the silver dol- lars slid off the top of a pile and} dropped to the floor of the coach in the aisle. McBain bent over to etrieve them, his eyes going long the floor to the second, just beyond his reach, His eyes met those of the man} farther back, McBain went rigid. For what might have been sec- onds he remained in that half bent position, head up, staring. Then With the movement he pushed side the board to free his knees} and came slowly to his feet, kick- ing the wood box backward, his eyes still riveted on the other's face. HE others had become aware for the first time that some- thing was wrong, “When did you get on this train, mister?” came in a strained whis- per from the man McBain. “About seven miles before you d came the reply, ‘At Smeller-A-Mile, eh?” ‘You rode out of town about ven miles after sundown, looks It sounded queer to Helen For- rest. She wanted to ery out, to move away; she felt Belle’s hand suddenly reach out to pull her aside, out of harm's way. Then death struck. With a bawl, McBain went for his gun. In a dim paralysis of thought she saw McBain’s hand go down} to his hip, flashing with remarka- ble speed. It started up, came half- way out, and then ail was blotted out in the smashing roar of an- other pistol. It roared again . . . and still again from the quiet man’s right hip. Flame spurts, orange in color, jetted out almost in a continuous flash from in front of the black coat, lurid against the somber vestment. She heard the big bullets driving into McBain’s chest and midriff, or thought she heard. That she would never know for sure, The scream that eame up in her throat froze as the man standing less than two feet away seemed to be driven back by some invisible wind that struck him in a gust. He went over backwards, turning as he fell, and the arm of the chair across the aisle gave off a sudden thud as his face struck it, He went down, rolling over, rest- ipe flat on his face in the aisle ith his hat off, the mop of shag- gy. uncombed hair almost against the doorlin the end of the coach. Helen Forrest lifted her eyes to the man who had shot him. He stood wooden-faced and strangely motionless, one han@ the left, resting on a seat back t@ hold his balance in the aisle. The other hand lay low at his right hip, Stipping the big six-shooter from whose muzzle end a faint wisp of acrid smoke was rising. His eyes were upon the man who lay at the end of the ceach near the stove. McBain’s lifeless body had begun to rock now, limp, al- most jelly-like in motion with the train, The horror that first had been engendered in the girl now turned to sickness and revulsion toward the man with the gun, Montana slid the heavy weapon back into its sheath an his coat tails into pa again. He saw the look in Helen Forrest's eyes, noted that the woman who undoubtedly was his half-sister stood cool and calm, and a tinge of admiration shot ot Whatever kind of a scow: 1 the man who now styled himself King Ramson had been, his daughter appeared to be a thoroughbred. Montana nodded curtly, opened the door to the rear, and went back injo the last coach. He curled up in his chair and tried to sleep, but slumber eame with difficulty that night. (Te be continued) Bridre, Clinten, 10 aell See Vi) laine or Tel Small white fuzzy dog Answers to the name Curley Phone 32: 70 cuance _a—,, HIRE Y 2c per line for one day Mc per line for three days 10c per line for six days 9c per line for twelve days 8c per line for twenty-four days Minimum of 3 lines per insertion ‘Wreted—Wonee HOUSEWORKER Advertising Department The Key West Citizen