The evening world. Newspaper, March 4, 1922, Page 14

inet > Ot Bee seo pme Ped 64 2 > ey Nn aero SSeS TSA TST ? t F 4 2 THE EVENING WORLD’S FICTION SECTION, SATURDAY, MARCH 4, 1922. A { down the road all. stooped like a book. You're up to some devil- “Gone to Willet’s, after a screen.” Most train time. Spud—so long! Fm )} 0 Let's go see.” { ment.” “How'd he go—-over the ridge?” going to tell Gertie the good news.” : But Wallis deeamily consjdered “Gertrude Lueretia,”. said Spud. “He went down the river.” “Oh, 1 heard about it all right, eouniry beyond the river. “I'd scorn to deceive you. I am,” “What?” papa,” said Gertie, tripping demurely “Sve how the river makes a big ox- Joe whisked around the corner on Spud explained and Wheeler's bad through the corrah gate. “Congrata- bv op opposite here?” he mused. a fat and ficry black. humor disappeared in laughter. lations! I'll expect a new dress,” i like the roads and ditches He was a crack horseman, and not “Well, that’s a good one. We'll Wheeler gave the pair a withering : row in together and build a averse to proving it. Nearing the car have to tell that to the strangers. look. “Spud Wallis,” he said, “go flag ‘ n, slant-wise, where theriver the horse snorted, shied, and stopped, You might as well stay to dinner, that train! There'll be no little ten- he .his way and turn it right all a-quiver. Spud.” der pactings, please.” across that neck of land—maybe dig- Joe plied whip and spui One plunge “No,” said Spud. “I'm feeling bad. “We thought of that,” said Gertie, ging ont some for a starter—and leave —two—at the third, horse and man _ If you'll leave me put my horses in blushing and laughing. “Goodby, this place all safe and hunky, a mile went over the thirty-foot bank into your pasture, I'll go up to Rincon on Spud—again!" out of danger and lots of coom. It the Rio Grande. The sound of a ter- the passenger and see the doc. Oh, “Goodby, Gertie—again! There's the ought to be cheaper. Only one patch rific splash rose to the silent porch. say, Mr. Wheeler. If I make good as’ train,” said Spud. “Come on.” of land to buy, and that all grown up Gertie gasped. a ‘business man—‘etter than Joe, say Spud waved his hat back and forth to tornillo and cottonwood saplings.” Spud smote his knee in vexation. —or as good as you-—you'll have nu across the track.. The engine whis- Wheelcr’s jaw fell. “Cracky, they “There!” he said, “I told him this further objection to me as a son-in- tled twice in acknowledgment. ; could do that!” he exclaimed. “That morning not to do that!” law, would you?” “Oh, I wanted to tell you. No use ground, now—it belongs. to old Pablo “Spud! He'll be killed!” ‘ “Now, Spud Wallis, dont you pes- for you to try to buy that place of Montoya’'s boy. Tui just go® over “Him? No! The water's deep un- ter me*—— ; Montoya's boy,” said Spud as the train there and buy it to-morrow—then I'll ~- der the bluff. We might go look.” “That's a bargain, then. If I can ‘slowed up. Spud swung on the smoker be fixed, either way. Well, I'm sure He picked up Joe’s hat as they raced outdo you and Joe”"—— step. “Some one bought it a mont™ Py : oblized to you, Spud.” to the bank. “Wish I could ride like “Drat you, yes—and welcome. Let’s ago.” eH “Oh, that’s all right,” said Spud that,” said Spud. fo tell the gentleman about Job and The train gathered headway. generously. “Let's go and gee what's . They were im mid-stream, swim- his horse.” Wheeler ran alongside, red-faced, and los! ° ming strongly. Joe clung to the The gentleinen were greatly amused, shouted up to Spud. horse’s tail and acted as rudder. “He'll get well paid for it, at least,” “Who bought it?” JE strangers met them at the car. One was a middle-aged man of slight build and severe but prosperous appearance, with a panama hat, gold-rimmed eye- glasses and close-clipped and griz- gied mustache. He wore a duster and long black driving gauntlets. The other was a much younger man. His stalwart six feet were arrayed in white flannel, his shirt-sleeves were rolled up, his collar turned in. His face was smooth shaven; he had wide, honest brown eyes under heavy brows; his mouth was small, red and well shaped. Curly chestnut -hair showed under his careless cap: his hands were soft, white, plump and perfectly cared for. “I peg your pardo1, gentlemen,” he said. “I have lost a very valuable dia- mond ring. Could we get you to help us look for it?” “We will pay you well, for your time,” prompted the older man. “Of course—certainly,” said the young fellow, smiling pleasantly. “Whether we find it or not,” added the other. “Oh, but I say, old chap, we must find it. I can’t afford to lose that ring, really.” “You stand to lose enough to buy you a box full of pretty rings if we don't get to Grindstone to-night,” said the little man. “Sure we'll help you,” said Wheeler. "Do you know where you had it last?” “Oh, yes," said the youth, leading the way. “It is somewhere between here and where we tinkered up the machine. I took it off and Iaid it on the running-board—on this side. Oh, we're sure to find it.” “IT hope so, Robert,” said his com- panion. “For we can't stay here long. Vd rather bny you another ring.” ‘It isn’t so much the value of it, Mr. Dwyer—though it cost a _ pretty penny, [ believe,” said Robert. “But —it was poor old dad's.” “Oh!” said Dwyer, less brusquely. “In that case, we'll stay till the last possible moment.” Sifting the sand through his gloved fingers, he looked up at Wheeler. , “You e we have to meet a party at Crindstone to sign up an important mining proposition. He comes on the 5,40 train and we have to be there, Phew! But it’s hot!” “It’s going to be some job,” said Wallis. “There's a heap of sand. look now—I got a mount of horses up here, squandering all over the coun- try. Vl round ‘em up and put ‘em in the pen first, before they stray off. I'll be right back Any wagon that comes along, you want to make ‘em avive on the ott side of tiie road.” He did not come back at all. *Reckon some of his horses quit him,” said Wheeler, wiping his drip- ping brow. UT half an hour after Spud's departure Joc Haskell rode down from his farm. In the corral he found Spud’s mount, and on the porch he found Spud him- self in joyous conference with Miss Gertie Wheeler. Joe glowered from the step. “Well! You two seem to be en- Joying yourselves,” he said. “Yes—ion’t we? It’s right cool and pleasant here,” said Spud. His eye wandered to the busy scene down the road. “What's up?” said Haskell, follow- ing Spud's gaze. “Lost something?” Spud explained, ' Joe sniffed; his black eyes snapped. “I'm going to hunt for that ring,” he declared, and stalked down the sunken road to join the search party. “Now, there's a nice boy,” said Spud, admiringly. “Plumb full of ginger. Good looker, too, And thrifty—my! Dia you notice, Gertie, he didn't even say good morning to you? Some way he didn’t seem right pleased.” After much searching Joe marched back. Spud hailed him cheerfully, “Find it, Joe?” Joe shot him a triumphant “No, but you sure missed out, old- timer. They paid us $10 apiece. I'm going to ‘lope down to Willit’s and have a screen sent up to run the sand through.” He strode’on to the corral, “Spud Wallis,” said Gertie, as soon as Joe was out of car shot, “you're look. 46 EATS all where that Joe Haskell ia,” grumbled Wheeler. “Maybe he went over the ridge. That's it —couldn’t make his horse go by your car, I reckon.” Mr. Dwyer snapped his watch dect- sively. “Robert,” he said, “we can't walt here any longer. Mr. Wheeler will doubtless find your ring. He can wire you at Grindstone when he does.” “I suppose so,” said Robert reluct- antly. “Mr. Wheeler, I shall depend on you and your friend to keep up the search. I have decided to double that reward—make it an even thou- sand. That is about all the ring is worth; but I wouldn't lose it for twice UNHEEDING, said Robert. “A thousand if you find the ring—a hundred apiece anyhow— that's the bargain. Here's my card. Wire me at the hotel at Grindstone. Goodby.” They climbed whirled gayly into the and away. ear R. WHEELER puffed into his inclosed courtyard, with an exultant whoop, “You, Spud! it!" he shrilled jubilantly. Spud appeared at the corral gate. “Got the ring, eh? That's good. Who found it—you or Joe?” “Neither one. Feller came along the track trampin’. He asked us We found THE ASSASSIN RODE CLOSE TO THE BODY AND DELIBERATELY FIRED AGAIN. that. And if you don't find it—well, keep looking for it till we get back and I'll give you a hundred apiece anyway—keep wagons off and all that.” “But you'll have an early dinner be- fore you go?” ueged Wheeler. “We can throw something together in a jiffy. Joe'll be back by that time.” Dwyer shook his head. “Thank you very much, but we'll just wash up and go on, We have lunch with us, The road, we hear, is very slow and sandy, and we want to be on time, Come, Robert.” The car drew yp before the store, Spud leaned over the rail, “Find it?” “No,” said Wheeler. “They're go- ing on. Thig way, gentlemen.” He ushered his guests in, with a black look for the young couple as he passed, He came back out at once. “What's all this? Gertie, go in the house this minute and start dinner, Spud! You're @ érifliin’ scoundrel, what we'd lost, and I up and told him before I thought. He come on down and it wasn't fifteen minutes before he found it.” “Shucks! That's too bad, in. hopes you or Joe'd get it.” Wheeler's eyelid fluttered on his cheek. “We ain't complaining any, Joe and me, We let him think it was ours and we dug up $200 and sent him hiking up the road,” “You're the schemers,” said Spud, admiringly. ‘Where's Joe?” “He's gone on home. Huffy, Joe is—huffy at you. Eight hundred and twenty dollars—pretty good morning's work, I think. You'd just as well have been in on it.” “Only eight hundred, isn’t it?” “They paid us twenty in advance, Spud,” said Wheeler triumphantly: “you see now why I don't make you welcome here. Whilst you was phil- anderin’ around Joe, was on the job. “But I'm not huffy,” objected Spud, placidly, “and Joe is.” I was holding out something. I kaow you Where's Joe? ee oe P “There'll be other days for Joe. , shoulder, Spud looked down at him henevo- lently. | “ did,” he said, | HE wagon road ran beside A track across the Bend. Spu was pratified, where the de ert road left the river, to dw serve a touring car toiling up the) sandy slope that led to the desert. At Rincon, Spud hunted up Charlie | Simpson, his particular crony.” When | the train started again, both were passengers. Simpson carried a long repeating rifle tucked under his arm. At Rincon the railroad leaves the river, climbs painfully up Lookout Hill, and strikes across the desert. Spud got off at Hess, the second sid- ing; Simpson waved joyous farewelL from the car window. The Tumble-Tee wagon was in pla sight on the mesa beyond Looko: Draw; a great dust rose from th cutting-ground beyond. Spud set ou for a two-mile walk to the wagon. Where the first curve of the row hid them from Wheeler's, @Messr: Dwyer and Whalen drove the car un der an overhanging cottonwood an halted. They opened the toolbox ap laid the tools on the running board.! businesslike fashion: but they spreaa robes out in the shade and composed themselves for a peaceful sleep. % Long afterward a man on foot eame | up the railroad track through the quivering heat. He was-roughly clad + aes and bore a little bundle on a stick. He clambered down the embankment and thrust a coarsely shod, plebeian foot into Mr. Whalen’s immaculate ribs. “Wake up.” he said gruffly, “ai? pay for your night's lodgin'!” Whalen sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Ugh-—-aah—oah!" he said. “Well, Bill, did the hicks come through?” “Two hundred—hundred and eighty net,’ said Bill crossly. “I tried to rib ‘em up for more but the young one made such a squeal that I took what I could get. Come now, let's get out of this.” Dwyer removed the number plate, Ill. 41372, and Substituted Ky. 13306. “It's just as well,” he said. “We've worked that gag for all the traffic will bear Twon't be safe to work "1 again till we get up in Ok shoma.” HEY were a long hour climbing the sandy slone to the level of the desert, Then they en- joyed a substantial lungheon from the hamper. Hill opened his suitcase, shaved carefully, and attir himself in joyous apparel. His iy rose accordingly. | “Blooie!"” he said, throwing the dis- carded garments into a mesquite bush. “Home, Jeems!” It was past mid-afternoon when they drew near to Hess. At the round-up wagon, half a mile to the right, the cook's fire blazed brightly; beyond it, a few riders held a bunch of cattle near the trampled round-up. The horse-herd grazed beside the rome guarded by a youthful wrengic seemingly asleep in the saddie. A hundeed vards farther on the car came to the rim of Lookout Draw and turned down the steep and = sandy slope. Half-way down, Bill threw brakes and stopped the car jerk. “Wake up, you fellows! there, will you?” Down the slope from the Point of Rocks, across the draw, came a wild rider inva whirl of dust. Beyond and a little behind him another horseman raced at top speed. He was shooting us at the first man; he was forcing him i ‘ PGE 5 BOE OE OE ees the with a Look obliquely along toward the car. Seat- fi tered far behind, spread in a strag , gling fan across the draw, a dozen cowboys rode furiously after. A vyell came from behind: the hovse wrangler. frantically urging his horse, tore down to the cur; a tow-headed boy, wide-awake now and pop-eyed with excitement. He screamed: “Got a gun?’ (¢ a gun?” . “No—what's the matter?” The answer came in gasps. “Traian robber! Bill Panky! ‘Ten thousand dollars reward! If I only had a rifle!” The wrangler whirled back toward the chuck wagons. "Go to the station— telegraph!” he shouted back over his “Go to the station, hey?” jeered