The Cass County Sun (Linden, Tex.), Vol. 60, No. 38, Ed. 1 Thursday, September 19, 1935 Page: 3 of 16
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WINTER RANGE
Copyright by Alan LaMay
By ALAN LEMAY
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CHAPTER XII—Continued
—16—
In the doorway Bob Elliot stood,
swaying on his logs like a drunken
man. The muscles about his mouth
twitched, and his eyes were red In a
bloodless face.
"Look each other over," said Ken-
tucky Jones. "A tine pair to draw to—
or to build a hanging around."
Bill McCord cried out, "Bob, what
the h—1 you been telling these ?"
"What the devil you talking about?"
said, Elliot "I—
Kentucky Jones offered Elliot the
butt of the gun that had killed San-
ders. "Here's your gun. Elliot. They've
matched It with the bullets that killed
Zack."
A light flared up in Bob Elliot's eyes
and he turned on Bill McCord. "If Mc-
Cord says this Is my gun." he exploded,
"he lies."
"Ask Ted Baylor," Kentucky said.
"Ted, tell the gentlemen where you
last saw this gun—after you won It at
craps from Joe St. Marie."
Ted Baylor glanced at the gun again,
and he hesitated. Kentucky Jones
waited, balanced In suspense, ile be-
believed that one of the two—McCord
or Elliot—would break under the one
last straw that Baylor might perhaps
provide. But lie had not talked to Ted
Baylor—hud found no chance to talk
to him—and he did not know what
this man would say.
"I guess you can remember when I
saw this gun last, yourself, Bob," said
Ted Baylor at last.
"You're crazy," said Elliot.
"I won that gun from Joe St. Marie,
in a crap game, one night last fall,"
Ted Baylor said; "but I didn't have It
an hour before I sold It to you, Bob, for
two dollars and a half, and the band
for a hat."
Bob Elliot said savagely, "You were
so d—n drunk that night you don't re-
member what you did!"
"So that's what you roiled on?" said
Kentucky Jones. "You thought Baylor
was so drunk that the gun could never
be traced?"
"1 never saw that gun before in my
life," said Elliot.
"It was a good idea of yours," said
Kentucky, "to throw Bill McCord to
the wolves. And it worked good enough
so that we'll hang McCord all right;
but—"
Bill McCord took a step toward El-
liot, his face contorted. "You dirty
sneak! So that's your game, is it?"
He swung crazlly upon Sheriff Hopper.
"He's lied to you," he almost shouted.
"He's lied to you like he lied to me I
I knew he was crazy to get Bishop
killed, and I tried to pick a tight with
Bishop for that reason. But it never
went through. He told me he killed
Bishop himself in fair tight. If I'd
known he laid for him on the rim and
plugged him with a rifle, without tight,
I'd have walked out on him the min-
ute that 1 knew!"
Bob Elliot's voice rose violently.
"You fool, will you shut your d—n
mouth before—"
"I suppose," said Kentucky to Bill
McCord, "you didn't even know that
Bob Elliot killed Mason."
"No, I never—"
"What did you suppose he wanted
Bishop killed for? You didn't know he
hired you to kill Bishop because Bishop
saw him at the Bar Hook the day
Muson died?"
Bob Elliot began, "Bill, don't you
let these—"
"You d—n streak of yellow," Bill
McCord snarled at him, "I see It now!
I don't wonder you disown your d—n
gun! If I'd known when you killed
Lee Bishop that you lay off and plugged
him with a rifle—"
"It's a d—n lie!" said Bob Elliot
again.
is It?" McCord snarled at him. "I
suppose It's a lie that you strapped on
that gun and rode after Mason, that
day when he laughed In your face—"
"By 0—d, McCord—" Elliot shouted.
"Put It off on me, will you? McCord
shouted back at him. "I thought may-
be you killed Mason, when you told me
you knew he was killed with Campo's
rifle. Why, you dirty side-winder—"
Bob Elliot's voice broke Into some-
thing almost like a squeal. "You
d—d—" Suddenly he turned, lurched
crazlly at the door behind him, and
was gone from the room.
Willie Ilelmar cried, "Shall I get
bim? Shall I get him?"
"McCord," roared Sheriff Hopper, "Is
this true?"
"Sure it's true!" McCord frothed. "I
can see it now—and I can prove It on
him every step of the way I Hang me
In toll place, will he? Why, that—"
Suddenly Bill McCord's face changed
as If It had been struck with a whip.
He whirled like a cat, snatched at the
holstered gun of Willie Heimnr; and
though Helmar seized McCord's arm
as the gun came out, McCord wrenched
free, hi that instant Jean, in the next
room, screamed, "Kentucky, look out!"
And Bob Elliot's first shot spoke from
the door.
The next moment was one of those
which witnesses afterward describe
conflictingly, so that It is dillicult to
know the truth.
Kentucky Jones shouted, "Jean, get
out of line!" and though he lired In
the direction of Bob Elliot, tie seemed
to tire at the floor, Elliot dropped to
one knee. Kentucky Instantly tired
again, ills second shot smashing Bill
McCord's gun wrist, so that McCord
was spun half about. Almost In accord
with Kentucky's second shot Bob El-
liot fired again. Kentucky Jones
stepped sideways as he once more tired
on Bob Elliot. This time Bob went
forward onto ills face; and his gun,
slamming from his relaxed hand, skid-
ded half way across the floor toward
Kentucky Jones. Then gun and man
lay still, and the room was still, heavy
with the peculiar unforgettable smell
of smokeless powder.
CHAPTER XIII
"Kentucky," said Sheriff Hopper,
"what's happened here?"
The debris had been cleared away,
by now. Elliot, not ns seriously hit as,
under the circumstances, lie might him-
self have wished, was officially in cus-
tody, as was Bill McCord; and Floyd
Hopper was four miles up in the air.
"You don't need to watch Bill Mc-
Cord so close," Kentucky said; "he's
ready to tell you enough to convict
Elliot before any Wolf Bench jury,
without any more trouble. Your case
was clinched the minute you found out
that Sanders was killed with the gun
that was found in his hand. It's been
plain all along that Sanders was killed
because he witnessed the killing of Mn-
son; and you've hoard McCord identify
the gun that killed Sanders."
"But look here," I-Iopper Insisted. "Up
to the time that you got Elliot and
McCord all crossed tip, you hadn't even
talked to Ted Baylor."
"I didn't have time to get hold of
him," Kentucky explained, "in the lit-
tle time after 1 found^out from St.
Marie that the gun had passed through
Baylor's hands. But then that wasn't
necessary, hardly. Elliot hnd to have
full information before he dared to
flood the Bar Hook range. And he
couldn't have got ail those cattle on
the move as quick as he did unless he
had started working them the next
morning after Mason was killed. Ile
could hardly have got such Informa-
tion so quick—unless he had killed Ma-
son himself."
"But you didn't know how many
hands that gun passed through besides
Ted Baylor's. Ted Baylor might have
passed It on to almost anybody. You
couldn't count on him to name the gun
as Elliot's gun."
"Sure not. But that didn't matter.
It's McCord's Identification that counts.
Of course, It might have been that the
gun had wound up at the Bar Hook,
and that Elliot walked in and borrowed
It, the same as ho did Campo's rifle. In
that ease, of course, there wouldn't
have been any tangible evidence
against Elliot, and we'd have lost out
all around. But I figured that the killer
would have shot quick with his own
gun, in Zack's case; and then shoved
the same gun Into Zack's hand. He
would have been In n hurry to get out
of there about then."
"But how did you know that the gun
In Sanders' hand wasn't Zack's own
gun? Now there—that was the turning
point of tHe whole thing."
"You didn't see that that wasn't
Zack's gun?"
"Can I know every gun In the rim-
rock? How could any man guess it
wasn't his?"
"You mean you thought Zack rode
all over Wolf Bench carrying that gun
In his hand?"
"In his hand? What you driving at?"
"He would have had to carry ,lt In
his hand. Sanders had no gun belt,"
Kentucky reminded him—"he wasn't
even wearing boots. And there wasn't
a single pocket In his clothes that that
gun would go in!"
*••••••
Within an hour after the showdown
which had thrown Elliot Into the sher-
iff's hands, Hopper had forgotten his
gratification over the solution In his
alarm over the storm which he was
sure would follow. Tomorrow word of
the charge against Elliot would have
swept the rlmrock. Already Floyd Hop-
per could see himself facing the mob
which he now supposed would wish to
take the law Into their own hands—
mobs made dlflicult by the unnoisy but
peculiarly efficient purposefulness of
cowmen who have made up their
minds. If the sheriff knew his brush
poppers—and lie thought he did—un-
pleasantness was going to come down
on him in sheets; and he was already
more Interested In plans to smuggle
Elliot to some far safe confinement
than he was in what had already been
accomplished.
With only a few hours' margin for
the completion of preventive measures
the sheriff barged off to Waterman.
With him went his brother, Doc Hop-
per, who had been rushed out mean-
time to administer first aid; and Bill
McCord.
Late afternoon found the Bar Hook
locked in that restive, exhausted quiet
which follows any kind of explosion.
Somewhere in the house Willie Heimnr
sat watchfully beside the wounded El-
I
SsfflliitiiJii
Once More She Hid Her Face.
Hot, who propped himself up In bed
and smoked Interminably, saying noth-
ing at all. Ted Baylor had left, and
Campo had drawn off by himself and
Into himself, in what mood no one
knew.
Kentucky Jones sat alotie in the big
kitchen. He wanted to talk to Jean—
knew that lie must talk to Jean; and
he dreaded it, for lie had no remotest
notion of what he would be able to say.
Now that the war of the 88 upon Bar
Hook was killed at the source, and the
death of Mason no longer was a mys-
tery which hung over Campo llagland,
Kentucky Jones found himself compre-
hending, as If for the first time, the
full weight of the burden which Jean
had chosen to bear alone.
At one time, he thought, Jean must
have believed her father guilty of the
murder of Mason. For him she had
smothered the evidence, at once con-
cealing her father's supposed Involve-
ment and concealing her knowledge
from Campo himself. To her Lee Bish-
op had told a story which ho himself
did not understand; she had known
the exact status of St. Marie and Ken-
lucky Jones, and the truth about the
missing rifle and the picture that was
gone from Its frame. What Kentucky
had said was true—that every one had
confided in her, and she had confided
In none. And through every hour of
those days she most certainly had
known that she was carrying In her
own hands the lives of men who meant
more to her than any others In the
world.
As Kentucky cons!'1— a this It
seemed to him tb~ .ad never wit-
nessed In any mi .e gameness, the
courage, nor the \ ed fidelity of pur-
pose that this one slender girl had
shown.
He wanted to seek her out now, and
tell her that he knew what she had
faced; and that the victory was not
Sheriff Hopper's, nor his own, but hers,
and hers only. And he knew he would
have no words to express any part of
that. He almost convinced himself
this was not the time to try to talk
to her; that he should pack out of
there, and go to Waterman, and come
back some time a long while later.
Then a door closed softly In another
part of the house, and he jerked to his
feet.
He found her at the stable shed
where the saddles were. She had al-
ready roped a pony—the same pony
with which she had met him early
that morning upon the trail—and she
was saddling with hurried, unsteady
hands, within the shadow of the shed, <
"Where are you going, Jean?"
"What do you care where I'm going?"
she said In a small vague voice. "Who
gives a whoop? Least of all myself."
He went to his saddle, and took
down his rope. She watched him shake
out a little cat-loop.
"What—what are you going to do?"
"I thought," he said, "I'd reach me
down a horse, and come along."
Her hands dropped the latigo, and
she turned to face him.
"No!" she told him. "No, no! I don't
want you to come. I—I want to be
alone—" Her face was white, and her
mouth quivered.
"Just ns you want, Jean," he an-
swered slowly. "Only—I just thought
that you and I had been through too
much here, together, to ride two trails
now. I don't blame you, though, if you
hate the h—1 out of me."
"It Isn't that," she said brokenly.
'Kentucky, It Isn't that. It's myself that
I hate the h—1 out of."
"Why, child, what's the matter?"
Suddenly Jean broke. She sat down
in a heap upon a spare saddle, and
hid her face in her arms. "I—wish I
were dead." The words came to hlrn
half smothered, inarticulate. "I wish I'd
never been born."
He dropped to one knee beside her.
"Jean ! What is it?"
"Lee Bishop—poor Lee—"
Kentucky considered. "Did you love
him, Jean?"
For a moment she lifted her face to
stare at him. "Did I what? Love him?
No. But—oli, dear G—d, Kentucky—
it's my fault lie isn't alive today."
"What nonsense is this?" he de-
manded.
She hnd hidden her face again, but
she shook her head. "I killed him, Ken-
tucky; 1 killed him Just as sure as—
as if I'd gunned him myself."
"That's the worst bunk I ever heard
in my life!"
She shook her head again; her words
were muffled and incoherent. "You
don't know. ... If only I'd trusted
you then! I've trusted you since, Ken-
tucky; 1 have, I have. I'd put anything
in rlie world in your hands, with never
a flicker of a doubt. But then—I
(bought I had to play it out alone.
Everybody trusted me, but I trusted
nobody—just as you said. After Leu
told me he had seen Mason here the
day Mason died—I knew it was Bob
Elliot he had seen. And when Elliot
began swamping our range I phoned
him, and rode out to meet him, and I
tried to bluff hlrn out. I told him that
Lee hnd seen him there—that we could
turn the case against him if he opened
the play. I thought I could hold that
over him, and bluff him off. Instead—
It otily meant Lee's death. Kentucky,
Kentucky, it's my fault he's dead. If
ever blame could be placed in this
world, that blame is on me!"
"Poor child," he said. "Poor child!
Jean, I guess Lee didn't tell you It
all; but he told me before he died.
Didn't Lee tell you that he bailed the
man he thought was Mason? He hailed,
and waved; the other didn't answer—
but it's certain that Elliot knew Lee
saw him, because McCord tried to pick
a fight with Bishop, before you talked
to Elliot. Don't you see? The cards
were against Lee ail the time, and you
had nothing to do with It at all."
She lifted her face, and gripped both
his arms. "Kentucky—is this true—are
you sure—"
"Why, of course, child. I—"
Onee more she hid her face, this time
weeping unrestrainedly. Kentucky gath-
ered her into his arms. "Whatever has
happened here," he told her, 'this thing
is true: nobody In the world has ever
been ns game, and as brave, and as
true as you've been, through all this
long stampede. There Isn't your equal
any place, and never has been, you
hear me? And not a man of us here,
or anywhere, Is fit to saddle your
bronc."
Presently, as, he held her, the shud-
dering jerk of her breathing subsided,
and she was quiet in his arms. "It's
been so lonely, so terrible, for so long,"
she whispered at last. "Hold me tight,
Kentucky; don't let me go."
"No," he answered; "not ever any
more."
(THE END]
Wigs Triumphant
From the days of the Stuarts to
the age of Johnson and Goldsmith the
wigmaker's craft was one of the busi-
est in London, but It now owes its sur-
vival to the lawyers, the full-bottomed
wigs of judges and the bobbed wig
of the barristers being still nade of
the oid-fashioued horsehair. The thea-
trical wigs, which make old men
young on the stage, and turn a pretty
young actress into j. grandmother, are
not designed for long wear; but both
kinds are made entirely by hand, no
machinery being able to supersede the
skilled craftsman.—Tit-Bits Magazine
The British Isles
It Is scarcely possible to calculate
how many islands comprise the Brit-
ish Isles, but more than 5,OCX) have been
charted. Most of them are to be found
off the western shores of Scotland and
Ireland, where the coast has been brok-
en up by the full fury of the Atlantic.
Most numerous are the Hebrides, which
comprise about 500, although the ma-
jority of them are uninhabited. There
are more than 50 inhabited islands in
the Shetlands and Orkneys, and there
are about 150 others on which no one
lives.
Asbestos Is Woven
Asbestos is a mineral that is woven
into cloth or sheets, and put to vari-
ous uses because it is incombustible.
Asbestos cloth was formerly used as a
shroud for dead bodies.
CAUGHT wild
Robert Ames Ben-
net's new thrill-
novel of a plane
lost in the un-
tracked North.
% How Alan Garth
fought to save the lives
of three tenderfeet—
while they were plotting
to kill him and seuie his
platinum strike — is one
of the most exciting
stories yet to come from
this favorite author.
• Caught In The Wild
begins next week in this
newspaper. Be sure to
begin with the first in-
stallment.
Don't miss a single chapter of this
serial starting next week in this paper
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Banger, J. E. A. & Erwin, W. L. The Cass County Sun (Linden, Tex.), Vol. 60, No. 38, Ed. 1 Thursday, September 19, 1935, newspaper, September 19, 1935; Linden, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth341329/m1/3/: accessed April 19, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Atlanta Public Library.