The Elbert County tribune. [volume], January 19, 1917, Image 2

About The Elbert County tribune. [volume] (Elbert, Elbert County, Colo.) 18??-1920

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The Lone Star Ranger
A Fine-Tale of the Open Country By ZANE GREY
CHAPTER XXIV—-Continued.
—l4
Tf not hate, then assuredly great
passion toward Poggln manifested It
self In Knell's scornful, fiery address,
In the shaking hand he thrust before
Poggln’s face. In the ensuing silent
pause Knell's panting could be plainly
heard. The other men were pale,
iratchful, cautiously edging either way
to the wall, leaving the principals and
Duane In'the corner of the room.
“Spring his name, then, you—” said
Poggln, violently with n curse*
Strangely Knell did not even look
at the man he was about to denounce.
.. He leaned toward Poggln, his hands,
his body, his long head all somewhat
expressive of what his face disguised.
“Buck Duane!” lie yelled, suddenly.
The nnme did not make any differ
ence in Poggln. But Knell’s pnssionate,
swift utterance carried the suggestion
that the name ought to bring Poggin
to quick action. It was possible, too,
thut Knell’s manner, the import of his
denunciation, the meaning back of nil
his passion held Poggln bound more
than the surprise. For the outlaw cer
tainly was surprised, perhaps stagger
ed at the Iden that lie, Toggin, had
been about to stand sponsor with
Fletcher for a famous outlaw hated
and feared by all outlaws.
Knell waited a long moment, and
then his face broke its cold immobility
In un extraordinary expression of
devilish glee. He had hounded the
great Poggln Into something that gave
him vicious, monstrous Joy.
“Buck Dunne! Yes,” he broke out.
hotly. “The Nueces gunman! That
two-shot. ace-of-spades lone-wolf 1
You an’ I—we’ve heard a thousand
times of him —talked about him often.
An* here he is in front of you! Poggln,
you were backin’ Fletcher’s new pard,
Buck Duane. An* he’d fooled you
both but for me. But I know him.
An’ I know why he drifted in here.
To flash a gun on Cheseldine —on you
—on mo! Bah! Don’t tell me he
wonted to Join the gang. You know a
gunman, for you’re one yourself.
Don’t you always want to meet n real
man, not a four-flush? It’s the mad
ness of the gunman, an’ I know It.
Well, Duane* faced you—called you I
An* when I sprung his nnme, whnt
ought you have done? Whnt would
the boss—anybody—have expected of
Poggln? Did you throw your gun,
swift, like you have so often? Naw;
you froze. An’ why? Because here’s
a man with the kind of nerve you’d
love to have. Because he’s great—
meet In’ us here alone. Because you
know he’s a wonder with a gun an*
you love life. Because you an’ I an’
every damned man here has to take
his front, each to himself. If we all
drew we’d kill him. Sure! But who’s
goln’ to lend? Who was goin* to be
first? Who was goln’ to make him
draw? Not you, Poggln! You .leave
that for a lesser man —me —who’ve
lived to see you n coward. It comes
once to every gunman. You’ve met
your match In Buck Dunne. An’, by
God, I’m glad! Here’s once I show
you up!”
The hoarse, taunting voice failed.
Knoll stepped back from the comrade
be hated. He was wet, slinking, hag
gard. hut magnificent.
“Buck Dunne, do you remember
’lnrdin?” lie asked, In scarcely audible
rolce.
“Yes,” replied Duane, and a flnsh of
xislght node clear Knell’s attitude.
“You met him —forced him to draw
—killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Hardin was the best pard I ever
had.”
His teeth clicked together tight, and
his lips set In a thin line.
The room grew still. Even brcnthlng
ceased. The time for words had pass
ed. In that long moment of suspense
Knell’s body gradually stiffened, and
at last the quivering ceased. He
crouched. Ills eyes had a soul-piere-
Ing fire.
Duane watched him. He wnlted.
He caught the thought—the breaking
of Knell’s muscle-bound rigidity. Then
he drew.
Through the smoke of his gun he
haw two red spurts of flame. Knell’s
bullets thudded Into the celling. He
fell with a scream like a wild thing
In agony.
Dunne did not see Knell die. He
watched Poggln. And Poggln, like a
stricken and astounded man, looked
down upon Ills prostrate comrade.
Fletcher ran at Duane with hands
aloft.
“Hit the trail, you liar, or you’ll
bev to kill me 1” he yelled.
With hands still up, he shouldered
and bodied Duane out of the room.
Duane leaped on his horse, spurred,
and plunged away.
CHAPTER XXV.
Dunne returned to Fairdnle and
camped In the mesqulte till the twenty
third of the month. The few days
seemed endless. All he could think
of was that the hour In which he must
disgrace Bay Longstretli was slowly
but Inexorably coming. In that wait
ing time he learned whnt love was
and also duty. When the day at last
dawned he rode like one possessed
down the rough sTrpo. hurling stones
and fbroii*»i the hush, with a
sound in his ears that was not all
the rush of the wind. Something drag
ged at him.
Apparently one side of his mind was
unalterably fixed, while the other was
a hurrying conglomeration of flashes
of thought, reception of sensations.
He could not get calmness. By and by,
almost involuntarily, he hurried faster
on. Action seemed to make his state
less oppressive; It eased the weight.
But the farther he went on the harder
It wos to continue. Had he turned his
back upon love, happiness, perhaps on
life Itself?
There seemed no use to go on far
ther until he was absolutely sure of
himself. Dunne received a clear
warning thought that such work as
Duane Saw Red Flashes.
seemed haunting and driving him
could never be carried out lu the mood
under which he labored. lie hung on
to that thought. Several times he
slowed up, then stopped, only to go on
again. At length, as he mounted a
low rhlge, Falrdale Iny bright and
green before him, not far away, and
the sight was a conclusive check.
There were mosquitos on the ridge,
ami Dunne sought the shnde beneath
them. It was the noon-liour. with hot,
glary sun and no wind. Here Duane
had to have out his fight. Duane was
utterly unlike himself; he could not
bring the old self back; he was not
the same man he once had been. But
lie could understand why. It wns be
cause of Ray Longstroth. Temptation
assailed him. To have her his wife!
It was Impossible. The thought was
insidiously alluring. Dunne pictured
n borne. He saw himself riding through
tho cotton and rice nnd cane, home to
a stately old mansion, where long
eared hounds bayed him welcome,
and a woman looked for him nnd met
him with happy nnd beautiful smiles.
There might—there would be children.
And something new, strange, con
founding with Its emotion, came to life
deep In Dunne’s heart. There would
be children! Ray their mother! The
kind of life a lonely outcast always
yearned for and never had! He saw
it oil. felt It all.
But beyond nnd above nil other
claims came Captain Mac Nelly’s. It
was then there was something cold and
deathlike In Dunne’s soul. For he knew
whatever happened, of one thing he
wns sure—he would have to kill either
Longstreth or Lawson. Longstreth
might be trapped Into arrest; but Luw
pon had no sense, no control, no fonr.
He would snarl like a panther nnd go
for his gun, nnd lie would have to be
killed. This, of all consummations, wns
the one to be calculated upon.
Dunne came out of It all bitter nnd
callous and sore—ln the most fitting of
moods to undertake n difficult nnd
deadly enterprise. lie bad fallen upon
his old, strange, futile dreams, now
rendered poignant by reason of love.
He drove away those dreams. In their
place came the images of the olive
skinned Longstreth with Ills sharp
eyes, nnd the dark, evil-faced Lawson,
nnd then returned tenfold more thrill
ing and sinister the old strange pas
sion to meet Poggln.
It wns about one o’clock when
DuAne rode Into Falrdale. The streets
for the most part were deserted. He
went directly to find Morton and Zim
mer, He found them at length, rest
less, somber, anxious, but unaware of
the part he had played at Ord. They
said Longstroth was home too. It
Was possible that Longstreth had ar
rived koine in Ignorance.
Duane told them to be on hand In
town with their men in case he might
need them, and then with his teeth
locked he set off for Longstreth’s
ranch.
Duane strode through the bushes
and trees, and when nearing the porch
he heard loud, angry, familiar voices.
Longstreth and Lawson were quarrel
ing again. How Duane’s lucky star
guided him' He had no plan for ac
tion but hl« brain *va» equal to a
ELBERT COUNTY TRIBUNE.
hundred lightning-swift evolutions. He
meant to take any risk rather than
kill Longstreth. Both of the men were
out on the porch. Dunne wormed his
way to the edge of the shrubbery and
crouched low to watch for his oppor
tunity.
Longstreth looked haggard nnd thin.
Me was in his shirt-sleeves, nnd he
had come out with a gun in his hand.
This he laid on a table near the wall.
He wore no belt.
Lawson was red, bloated, thick
lipped, all fiery nnd sweaty from drink,
though sober on the moment, and he
had the expression of a desperate man
In his last stand. It was his last
stand, though he was ignorant of that.
“What’s your news? You needn’t be
afraid of my feelings,” said Lawson.
4 *Ray confessed to an interest in this
ranger,” replied Longstreth.
Dunne thought Lawson would choke.
He was thick-necked anyway, and the
rush of blood made him tear at the
soft collar of his shirt. Dunne awaited
Ids chance, patient, cold, all his feel
ings shut In a vise.
"But why should yoA* daughter meet
this ranger?” demanded Lawson,
harshly.
“She’s In love with him, and he’s In
love with her.”
Duane reveled In Lawson’s condi
tion. The statement might have had
the force of a Juggernaut. Was Long
streth sincere? What wns Ills game?
Lawson, finding his voice, cursed
Ray, cursed tne ranger, then Long
streth.
“You damned selfish fool!” cried
Longstreth In bitter scorn. “All you
think of Is yourself—your loss of the
girl. Think once of me—my home —
my Ufa!”
Then the connection subtly put out
by Longstreth apparently dawned up
on the other. Somehow through this
girl her fnilior nnd cousin were to be
betrayed. -Duatio got that Impression,
though lie could not tell how true It
wus. Certainly Lawson’s Jealousy was
his paramount emotion.
“To hell with you1” hurst out Law
son, Incoherently. He wns frenzied.
“I’ll have her, or nobody else will l”
“You never will,” returned Long
streth, stridently. “So help me God
I’d rather see her the ranger’s wife
than yours!”
While Lawson absorbed that shock
Longstreth leaned toward him, all of
hate and menace in his mien.
“Lawson, you made me whnt I am.”
continued Longstreth. "I backed you
—shielded you. You’re Cheseldine —if
the truth Is told! Now It’s ended. I
quit you. I’m done!”
Their gray pnsslon-corded faces
were still ns stones.
“Gentlemen!” Dunne called In far
reaching voice ns he stepped out.
“You’re both done!”
They wheeled to confront Dunne.
“Don’t move! Not a muscle! Not a
finger!” he warned.
Longstroth rend whnt Lawson had
not the mind to rend. Ills face turned
from gray to ashen.
“What d’ye mean?” yelled Lawson,
fiercely, shrilly. It was not In him to
obey a command, to see Impending
death.
All quivering nnd strung, yet with
perfect control, Dunne raised his left
hand to turn hack a
vest. The silver star flashed brightly.
Lawson howled like a dog. With
barbarous nnd Insane fury, with sheer
impotent folly, he swept n clawing
haml for his gun. Duane’s shot broke
his action.
Before Lawson even tottered, before
he loosed the gun, Longstreth leaped
behind him, clnsped him with left arm,
quick as lightning Jerked the gun
from both clutching fingers nnd sheath.
Longstreth protected himself with the
body of the dend man. Dunne saw
red flashes, pulls of smoke; he heard
quick reports. Something stung Ills
left arm. Then a blow like wind, light
of sound yet shocking In Impact,
struck him, staggered him. The hot
rend of lead followed the blow.
Duane’s heart seemed to explode, yet
his mind kept extruordlnurily clear
and rapid.
Dunne heard Longstreth work tho
nctlon of Lawson’s gun. He heard the
hammer click, fall upon empty shell.
Longstreth hud used up all the loads
in Luwsou’s gun. He cursed us a inan
cursed at defeat. Duane waited, cool
and sure now. Longstreth tried to lift
the dead man, to edge him closer to
ward the table where his own gun
lay. But, considering the peril of ex
posing himself, he found the tasg be
yond him. He bent peering at Duane
under Lawson’s arm, which flopped
out from his side; Longstreth’s eyes
were the eyes of n man who meunt
to kill. There was never any mistak
ing the strunge and terrible light of
eyes like those. More than once
Duane had a chance to aim at them,
at the top of Longstreth’s head, at a
strip of his side.
Longstreth flung Lawson’s body ofT.
But even as It dropped, before Long
streth could leap, ns he surely in
tended, for the gun, Duane covered
him, called piercingly to him:
“Don’t Jump for the gunl Don’t!
I’ll kill you! Sure as God I’ll kill
you I”
Longstreth stood perhaps ten feet
from the table where his gun lay.
Dunne saw him calculating chances.
By ZANE GREY
lie was game. He had the courage
that forced Duane to respect him.
Duane Just saw hijfc measure the dis
tance to that gun. Duane would have
to kill him.
“Longstreth, listen,” cried Dunne,
swiftly. “Tho game’s up. You’re
done. But think of your duughter!
I'll spare your life —I’ll try to get
/on freedom on one condition. For
her sake! I’ve got you nailed —oil the
proofs. There lies Lawson. You’re
alone. I’ve Morton and men to my aid.
Give up. Surrender. Consent to de
mands, and I’ll spare you. Maybe I
can persuade Mac Nelly to let you go
free back to your old country. It’s
for Ray’s sake! Her life, perhups her
happiness, can be saved! Hurry,
inan ! Your answer!”
“Suppose I refuse?” he queried, with
a dark nnd terrible earnestness.
“Then I’ll kill you In your tracks!
You can’t move a hand ! Your word
or death ! Hurry, Longstreth ! Be a
man! For her sake! Quick ! An
other second now—l’ll kill you!”
“All right. Buck Duane, I give my
word.” he said, nnd deliberately walk
ed to the chair and fell Into it.
Longstreth looked strangely at the
bloody blot on Dunne’s shoulder.
“There come the girls!” he sudden
ly exclaimed. “Can you help me
drag Lawson Inside? They musn’t see
him.”
Duane was facing down the porch
toward the court nnd corrals. Miss
Longstreth and Ruth had come In
sight, were swiftly approaching, evi
dently alarmed. The two men suc
ceeded In drawing Lawson Into the
house before the girls snw him.
“Duane, you’re not hard lilt?” said
Longstreth.
“Reckon not,” replied Duane.
“I’m sorry. If only you could have'
told me sooner! Lawson! Always
I’ve split over him!”
“But the last time, Longstreth.”
“Yes, and I came near driving you
to kill me, too. Dunne, you talked me
out of It. For Ray’s sake! She’ll be
In here in a minute. This ’ll be hard
er than facing a gun.”
“Ilnrd now. But I hope It ’ll turn
out all right.”
“Dunne, will you do me n favor?”
be asked, and he seemed shamefaced.
“Sure.”
"Let Ray nnd Ruth think Lawson
shot you. He’s dend. It can’t matter.
Duane, the old side of my life Is
coming back. It’s been coming. And,
I’d change places with Lawson If I
could!”
“Glad you—said that, Longstreth,"
replied Dunne. “And sure—Lawson
plugged me. It’s our secret.”
Just then Ray and Ruth entered the
room. Dunne heard two low cries, so
different In tone, nnd he saw two
white faces. Itny came to his side.
She lifted a shaking hand to point nt
the blood upon his breast. White nnd
mute, she gazed from that to her
father.
“Papa!” cried Ray, wringing her
hands.
“Don’t give way,” he replied, husk
ily. "Both you girls will need your
nerve. Dunne Isn’t badly hurt. But
Floyd Is—ls dend. Listen. Let me
tell It quick. There’s been a flglit. It
—lt was Lawson —It was Lawson's
gun that shot Dunne. Duane let me
off. In fact, Ray, he saved me. I’m
to divide my property—return so far
ns possible what I’ve stolen—leave
Texas nt once with Duane, under ar
rest. lie says maybe he can get Mac-
Nelly, the ranger captain, to let me
go. For your sake!”
She stood there, realizing her deliver
ance, with the dark anti tragic glory
of her eyes passing from her father
to Dunne.
“You must rise above this,” said
Duane to her. “I expected this to
ruin you. But your fnther Is alive.
He will live It down. I’m sure I can
promise you he’ll he free. Perhaps
back there In Louisiana the dishonor
will never be known. Tills matter of
land, water, a few stray head of stock
had to be decided out of court. To
protect himself he bound men to him.
lie could not control them. He be
came involved with them, and so he
grew Into the lender because he was
the strongest. Whatever he Is to he
Judged for, I think lie could have been
Infinitely worse.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
On the morning of the twenty-sixth
Dunne rode into Bradford In time to
catch the early train. His wound did
not seriously Incapacitate him. Long
streth was with him. And Miss Long
streth and Ruth Herbert would not
be left behind. They were all leaving
Falrdale forever. Longstreth had
turned over the whole of his property
to Morton, who wns to divide It as ho
nnd Ills comrades believed just.
Dunne had left Falrdale with his
party by night, passed through Sander
son In the early hours dawn, and
reached Bradford as he had planned.
That fatal morning found Duane
outwardly calm, but Inwardly he was
iu a tumult. * He wanted to rush to
Vul Verde. Would Captain Mac Nelly
be there with his rangers, us Duaue
had planned for them to be? Memory
of that tawny Poggln returned with
strange passion. Duane had borne
hours and weeks and months of wait-
ing, had endured the long hours of
the outlaw, but now he had no
patience. The whistle of the train
made him leap.
* It was a fast train, yet the ride
seemed slow.
Duane did not speak to Longstreth
and the passengers in the car, changed
his seat to one behind his prisoner.
The girls sat in a seat near by and
were pale but composed.
Dunne did not speak to Longstreth
again till the train stopped at Val
Verde.
They got off the car, and the girls
followed as naturally as ordinary
travelers. The station was a good
deal larger than that at Bradford, and
there was considerable action and
bustle incident to the arrival of the
train.
Duane’s sweeping gaze searched
faces, rested upon a man who seemed
familiar. This fellow’s look, too, was
that of one who knew Duane, but was
waiting for a sign, a cue. Then Dunne,
recognized him—MacNelly, clean-shav
en. Without mustache he appeared
different, younger.
When Mac Nelly saw that Dunne In
tended to greet him, hurried forward
to meet him. A keen light flashed
from his eyes. He was glad, eager,
yet suppressing himself, and the
glnnces he sent back and forth from
Duane to Longstreth were questioning,
doubtful. Certainly Longstreth did
not look the port of an outlaw.
“Duane! Lord, I’m glad to see you,”
was the Captain's greeting. Then at
closer look into Duane’s face his
warmth fled—something he snw there
checked his enthusiasm, or at least its
utterance.
“Mac Nelly, shake hands with Ches
eldine,’’ said Duane, low-voiced.
The ranger stood dumb, motionless.
But he saw Longstreth’s Instant no
tion, and awkwardly he reached for
the outstretched hand.
“Any of your men down here?” |
queried Duane, sharply.
“No. They’re up-town.”
“Come. Mac Nelly, you walk with
him. We’ve ladies in the party. I’ll
come behind with them.” •
They set off up-town. Longstreth
walked as If he were with friends on
the way to dinner. The girls were
inutc. Mac Nelly walked like a man
in a trance. There was not a word
spoken In four blocks.
Presently Duane espied a stone
building on a corner of the broad
street. There wns a big sign, “Ranch
er’s Bank.”
“There’s the hotel,” said Mac Nelly.
"Some of my men are there. We’ve j
scattered nround.”
They crossed the street, went \
through office nnd lobby, and then
Dunne asked Mac Nelly to take them
to a private room. Without a word
the Captain complied. When they
were all Inside Duane closed the door,
nnd, drawing a deep breath as If of
relief, he faced them calmly.
“Miss Longstreth, you nnd Miss
Ruth try to mnke yourselves comfort
able now,” he said. “And don’t be dis
tressed.” Then he turned to his cap
tain. “Mac Nelly, this girl is the
daughter of the man I’ve brought to
you, nnd this one Is his niece."
Then Duaqe briefly related Long
streth’s story,' nnd, though* he did not
spare the rustler chief, he was gener
ous.
“Wfcen I went after Longstreth,”
ccmcluded Duane, “it wns either to
kill him or offer him his freedom on
conditions. So I chose the latter for
his daughter’s sake. He has already
disposed of all his property. I believe
‘Duane! Lord, I Am Glad to See You!”
he’ll live up to the conditions. He’s
to leave Texas never to return. Ches
eldine has been a mystery, and now It
*ll fade.”
A few moments later Duane follow
ed Mac Nelly to a large room, like a
hall, here were men rending and
smoking. knew them—
rangers 1
MacNelly beclioned to hls men. They
crowded close, eager, like hounds
ready to run. They all talked at ,
once, and the word most significant
and frequent In their speech was
“outlaws.”
MacNelly clapped his fist In his
band.
“This ’ll make the adjutant sick
with joy. Maybe he won’t have it
on the Governor! We’ll show them
about the ranger service. Duane!
how’d you ever do it?”
“Now, Captain, not the half nor
the quarter of tills Job’s done. The
gang’s corning down the road. They’ll
ride in to town on the dot —two-thirty."
“How many?” asked MacNelly.
“Poggin. Blossom Kane, Panhandle
Smith, Boldt, Jim Fletcher, and an
other man I don’t know."
“Poggin—that's the hard nut to
crack! I’ve heard their record since
I’ve been in Val Verde. Where’s
Knell?"
“Knell’s dead.”
“Ah!” exclaimed MacNelly, softly.
Then he grew businesslike, cool, and
of harder aspect. “Duane, it’s your
game to-day. We’re all under your
orders."
“You understand there’s no sense in
trying to arrest Poggin, Kane and thal
lot?” queried Duane. *
“No, I don’t understand that,” re
plied MacNelly, bluntly.
“It can’t be done. The drop can’l
be got on such inen. Poggin! Thai
outlaw has no equal with a gun un
less— He’s got to be killed quick
They’ll all have to be killed. They’r*
| all bad, desperate, know no fear, ar«
lightning in action."
“Very well, Duane; then it’s a fight
| That ’ll be easier, perhups. The boy*
| are spoiling for u fight. Out with youi
plan, now."
“Put one man at each end of thii
street, Jyst at the edge of town. Pi*
four men up in that room over th#
bank —two at each open window. Lei
I hem hide till the game begins. Tin
rest of your men put inside behind
the counters, where they’ll hide. No*
go over to the bank, spring the thin*
on the bank ottlcials, send your mer
over one by one. No hurry, no ex
citement, no ungual thing to attracl
l notice in the bank.”
“All right. That’s grent. Tell me
where do you Intend to wait?”
Dunne heard MacNelly’s question
and it struck him peculiarly. He had
| seemed to be planning and speaklnj
mechanically. As he was confronted
by the fact it nonplused him some
i what, nnd he became thoughtful
with lowered head.
“Where ’ll you wait, Dunne?” in
sisted MacNelly, with keen eyei
i speculating.
“I’ll wait In front —just inside tin
door,” replied Duane, with an effort
“But will you hide?” asked Mac
Nelly.
Duane was silent.
MacNelly stared, and then a strange
comprehending light seemed to fll’
I over his face.
“Dunne, I can give you no orden
to-day,” he said, distinctly. “I’m onl]
offering advice. Need you take nnj
j moie risks? You’ve redeemed your
self. The governor, the adjutant-gen
; oral—the whole state will risy up ant
• honor you. I say, as a ranger, nee<
you take more risk than your cap
tain?”
Still Duane remained silent. Hi
was locked between two forces. An<
one, a tide that was bursting at iti
bounds, seemed about to overwheln
him. Finally that side of him, tin
retreating self, the weuker, found i
voice. * ’
"Captain, just what I’ll do or when
I’ll be I can’t say yet. In meetingi
like this the moment decides. Bu
I’ll be there!”
MucNelly spread wide his hands
looked helplessly at his curious nn<
sympathetic rangers, und shook hli
head.
“Now you’ve done your work —lal<
file trap—is this strange move of youn
going to be fair to Miss Longstreth?’
asked MucNelly, in significant lo*
voice.
Like n great tree chopped at thi
roots Duane vibrated to that. EM
looked up as if he had seen a ghost
Mercilessly the ranger cuptuin went
on: “You can win her, Duane! Oh
you can’t fool me. I was wise In a
minute. Fight with us from cover
} ou’ll be free, honored, happy. Thai
girl loves you! I saw it in her eyes
She’s—”
But Duane cut him short with a
; fierce gesture. He luuged up to hii
: feet, and the rangers fell back. Dark
silent, grim as he had been, still then
was u transformation singularly mori
| sinister, stranger.
“Enough. I’m done,” ho said, som
berly. “I’ve plnnned. Do we agree—•
or shall I meet Poggin and his gang
alone?”
MacNelly cursed and again threw
up his hands, Oils time in baffled
chagrin. There was deep regret in
his dark eyes as they rested upon
Duane.
Duane was left alone.
Never had his mind been so quick, so
clear, so wonderful in its understanding
of what hud heretofore been Intricate
and elusive impulses of his strange
nature. His determination was to meet
oggin; meet him before anyone else
liad a chance I’oggin first—and then
the others! He was ns unalterable
in that decision ns if on the Instant
Of Its accectnnce he had become stone.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Tame Performance.
“Did the speaker make much of an
impression on you?”
“No.”
“But I understood he threw some
mud.”
* Well, if he did. it waa free from
bacteria nnd guaranteed not to soil the
fciothes." Bi rminglmin Age-Herald.