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fREDRANGEI By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM | | (O EUGENE CUNNINGHAM VZM-U. RELEASE THE STORY SO FAR: Forced to run from the law to save his life when he is j suspected of being the notorious "Co- | manche Linn,” Con Cameron is trying to prove his honesty. With his pal, Ca ramba Vear, he Is working for Topeka Tenison, owner of the Broken Wheel ranch. Nevi! Lowe, marshal of the neigh boring town of Tivan, is after him but doesn't yet know that the "Twenty John son” of the Broken Wheel is the man he suspects of being Comanche Linn. Lowe’s sister, Janet, is staying with the Teni sons. They are deeply attached to her, having lost their only child, a boy, when « he was kidnaped many years before. On their way out to the ranch after per suading Tenison to give them the Job, Con and Caramba met Monk Irby, one of the Megeath crowd. Megeath and Dud Paramere, leader of another band of out laws, hate both Nevil Lowe and the Bro j ken Wheel outfit. In the fight which fol lowed their meeting with Irby, Con knocked out Irby. Then he and Ca ' ramba fought off more of Megeath’s men to protect Janet Lowe. When Mrs. Teni «on sent Con to find out how tjje “Bfst •' ers,” the (Traceys, were coining along, Con found Mr. Gracey dead and Mrs. Cracey and the boy seriously hurt. To peka sent Con into town for a doctor, with instructions to tell the constable, Janton, and no one else about his suspi cions that it was Monk Irby who shot the Graceys. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER XV The constable was in a poker game in a corner of the big can tina. The place was almost desert ed. Two or three such games as that of the constable looked to be of the all-night variety. Con went back to straddle a chair opposite -Janton, and when a hand was finished, the lanky constable looked curiously at him. “Don’t tell me you already quit the Busted Wheel!” “No. Not yet. I was sent in to bring the doctor and—to put a mur der case in somebody’s lap. Yours, maybe.” “That’s the sheriff’s bailiwick,” Janton said drawlingly. “Hell on murders, Nevil Lowe is.” “Somebody’s always getting killed in the territory,” one of the players drawled. “But, go ahead! Who was it?” “He not only got murdered in a pretty slinking, bushwhacking way, but his wife and little boy got shot—” “Gracey!” Janton said quickly, al most mechanically. “Oh! You already knew about it, did you?” “Uh-uh. Just knowed damn’ well it was bound to come. Well, nothing I can do.” “Could you be talked into arrest ing Gracey’s murderer if you found him right in town?” “Where is he, here in town?” “He was heading this way, the last time I saw him. But I didn’t see it done. I couldn’t swear to a thiryj.” “Best not to talk much if you can’t swear to things,” that cowboy next to Janton advised him sagely. “Whose deal?” The players laughed. Con shook his head, sighed, and got lazily to his feet. “I believe I’ll get a drink and call it a day.” He ate breakfast in Carmelita’s, among other early risers, cowboys and freighters and prospectors and those men of Onopa who had stores or other businesses to open. Janton came in, alone. When he saw Con at a vacant table, he slouched over to sit down and grin. “I don’t want you should think 1 11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111l BLAKELY THEATRE Thursday-Friday, Aug. 20-21 WALTER PIDGEON —ROSALIND RUSSELL in “DESIGN FOR SCANDAL” Saturday, Aug. 22 808 LIVINGSTON —808 STEELE in “PRAIRIE PIONEERS” Saturday Late Show 10:30 RICHARD ARLIN—JEAN PARKER in “TORPEDO BOAT” Monday-Tuesday, Aug. 24-25 MICKEY ROONEY —JUDY GARLAND in “BABES ON BROADWAY” Wednesday, Aug. 26 BONITA GRANVILLE —RAY McDONALD in “DOWN IN SAN DIEGO” lllllllllOllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllliM don’t give a hoot about murders,” he said genially, “just because I never got forked up about Gracey. Us that’s been around here a long time, naturally, we know things you don’t. Now, Gracey, he was al ways just begging for a killing. He drank coffee noisily, squinting, shaking his head. “You know-nothing personal! but —some folks might say you coming in with this tale about Monk Irby murdering Gracey was all part of a scheme to put Monk out of the way. Because Monk and Slash was awful good friends and Monk’s a danger- CUs man, any way you take him.” “No. No, you’re wrong about that,” Con disagreed placidly. “I’m not a bit more afraid of Monk than lam of—of you, Janton, and you need your two barrels of buck to make me nervous. Well, I’ve got to take the doctor out and report to Topeka Tenison about what you said and did.” The constable moved uneasily, but said nothing. Con paid for his break fast and went out. He walked slow ly toward the doctor’s house, puz zling Janton’s manner. He met the doctor, hurrying along the street with his bag. “Be an hour or two before I’m ready,” the gray little man panted. “Been up since four.” “I think,” Con told himself with some pleasure, “that now I’ve got time to look around for Mr. M. Irby. And if he should want to re member me, goodness forbid that I put anything at all in his way!” But nowhere in Onopa could he find Monk Irby. He asked no ques tions, merely looked. In the big cantina he. found that nervous bartender who had served him and Caramba. Con went far down the bar and stood by himself. When the bartender brought him bottle and glass, he stopped and looked at the labeled array of liquor in the back bar, as if discussing it. “You and that redhead partner sure played hell in High Z with them lady-wranglers of Gloomy’s,” he said in a low voice. “They bulged into town a-licking their sores like a bunch of scalded hountls. No body was killed, but some was shot awful bad. They say Gloomy’s prom ised to wipe out your mark. But from what Monk Irby spewed out, he ain’t going to wait for Gloomy!” Con asked the bartender where Gloomy and Monk were. “There’s a liT bitsy plazita, just two-three Mex’ houses, on the road to Helligo Canyon. The bunch stops there lots of times. I think that’s where they went, yesterday. Watch your step, young fellow!” He went up the bar to serve cus tomers and Con lifted his glass and set it down empty. Then a rasping voice sounded, almost in his ear. “Ain’t you workin for that damn’ Busted Wheel?” Con turned very carefully. When he saw the face thrust out toward his, he made a disgusted grimace and drew back. It was a big man, Indian dark, with shiny stubble of beard from eyes to collarbone. One inky eye was permanently slitted by an old weal that slanted across eye brow and cheekbone and notched the high nose bridge. Thick, loose mouth shone bluish-red against the black of his straggling mustache. He wore no shell belt, but high on his hip, under an old coat, was a stubby Colt. His hand was on it. Con’s gun was in his waistband, un der his shirt. He flashed his hand up and inside his shirt and out again. The big EARLY COUNTY NEWS, BLAKELY, GEORGIA 1 iprar? | B I Sil f > 'V’ t jAaaMWE Mar " Bri /ZB® WflM ' MBH- rs y x, w TH, i r ' Blackbeard staggered and Con rushed in. man was jerking out his pistol, but Con thought triumphantly that he had beaten him. Then from behind him a hand knocked down his Colt, struck his arm again and the gun roared as it fell. He took a heavy blow in the back that drove him for ward. Instinctly, he clawed at the tall man’s thick wrist, caught it and twisted savagely with all the strength of powerful shoulders and wiry arms. Con fell into him and clung, lifting his feet off the floor' and kicking viciously backward. He felt a heel strike something soft and heard a groan. Then his toes touched the floor again and he kicked the big man on his shin. The grip on his arm relaxed slightly and he snatched free, to rise on tiptoe and swing a long right to the cheek. Blackbeard staggered and Con rushed in. He slid back as the big figure crumpled, began to turn to get at the second man, and felt the impact of an almost knockout blow on his jaw. “He sure does set up nights to hate a Busted Wheeler, Latimer does,” one of the voices said mar velingly. “But if it hadn’t been for that nephew of his helping him, there’s one Wheeler would have killed him first crack out of the box. He beat Latimer to it, only that boy knocked his arm down. Lati mer had his hand on the cutter, too!” Con sat up so abruptly that men bent over him jerked back out of the way. Automatically, he put his hand inside his shirt and groped for his Colt. Hands helped him. He peered around and the bartender pushed over his pistol. He spun the cylin der to see that the loads were in tact, let down the hammer upon an empty chamber, and shoved the gun into his waistband. He stood sulkily for a moment, but the doctor took him by the arm and moved him toward the door. Riding beside the doctor’s buggy, going out of Onopa, Con asked about the Latimers and was told that they had been in the country less than a year. Latimer had a small outfit between the Broken Wheel and Hel ligo Canyon. “Ah!” Con said softly. “Between the Wheel and the Canyon.” “That’s what Topeka thought! The first time he found Latimer wander ing around the Wheel side of the line, he called it a natural acci dent. But the second time it hap pened, he and the boys with him escorted Latimer across the line and invited him to stay there. Lati mer has hammered every Broken Wheel cowboy he could find, since then. You’re the seventh or eighth.” “Why, maybe I’ll be the last one, then. If that nephew of his hadn’t hit me from behind, today, the Lat imers would have been holding lil ies, not guns.” The doctor looked very tolerantly at him and shook his gray head. They talked little, after that. Con was becoming more and more con scious of his soreness. He was glad to swing down in the Broken Wheel yard and take the doctor’s buggy in charge. Dinner had been eaten, but Con got a handout from the cook, who asked no questions about his battered face. Then Perch looked into the kitchen of the bunkhouse and with sight of Con whooped shrilly and whirled about. “Gale!” he yelled. “Oh, Gale! Twenty Johnson just come in, pack ing the Latimer trademark. Why’n’t you tell this pilgrim what he might run into, around Onopa?” Goree appeared, behind him. But before he could speak, Topeka Teni son looked over Perch’s shoulder. He shook his head slightly, frown ing. Con continued to eat placidly, but he’was beginning to feel irrita tion. A corner of Tenison’s mouth lifted and he turned to Goree. “We won’t wait for the horses from Red Mesa,” he said. “I won't hold the wagon, I mean. You take the boys that are ready and pull out. When Johnny Dutch and Skeets and Caramba come in from the Mesa with the horses, the rest cf the boys can get fixed .up. Now, you got your rep’s picked?” “All right,” Tenison answered Go ree’s nod. “We’ll meet the other wagons at Antelope Springs and scatter our rep’s. You stay here on the place, Twenty. You, too, Perch.” “Huh?” Con grunted, putting down his coffee. “You don’t want me on roundup? I certainly would like to—” “Got plenty. Somebody’s got to stick here,” Tenison told him curt ly, turning away. To be left here as a sort of chore boy was bad enough, but to be left because Tenison weighed him against other men, and classed him as a weakling by Wheel standards, was far worse. He went toward the corrals, eyes moodily upon the ground. Then from the house Mrs. Tenison called him. “I’m glad you’re going to stay with us,” she said, smiling at him. “I asked for you, but it didn’t seem that I was going to get you. Gale thinks a lot of your roping. But you’re staying and that pleases me, son. For, with all the trouble we’ve been having—You know, of course, that Megeath intended to carry off Janet the other night. I’m glad you’re go ing to be around, son.” “I’ll play bulldog,” Con assured her evenly. “How’s the hospitcJ, by the way? That boy all right?” “I’m going to keep him in bed for a while yet. He developed more fe ver. The only way we could talk him into lying quiet was to tell him you’d ordered it.” “He minds what I say because he thinks I’m your mother,” Mrs. Teni son said, with a soft, strange little laugh. “And he looked at Janet and called her “Mis’ Twenty” and said all right; if you had told us to tell him to be quiet, he would!” “I’m certainly getting fixed up with a family, now!” Con cried—and felt that he was flushing and won dered why he should be. “She’s a fine girl, Janet,” Mrs. Tenison sighed, as if speaking aloud. “Her mother was the best friend I had and Janet was born right here. She’s a pretty girl and g fine girl any way you think of her.” “Yes,” Con admitted, “she cer tainly seems to be that. I never saw a girl to touch her. And her brother—” He stopped short, wondering how much he was supposed to know about the Territory. Mrs. Tenison only nodded. “Nevil is a fine boy. Much of a man. I could wish that he wasn’t sheriff.” Con thought that he had talked as much as was safe. So he agreed that ,a good man had been needed and “thought” that he was wanted at the corrals, where Goree and oth ers were. Goree put him to work, helping to load the wagon with supplies and equipment. (To Be Continued) ARB YOU puttingTenPerCentof your Income into U.S. War Ponds & Stamps? Let Us Serve You— *• We are in the Grocery Market business, an d no other; there fore, we devote our full time in buying, studying and planning *®*sSs*** the needs of our cus- tomers on quality goods at the right prices. We insist that you give us a call before you make a purchase on Groceries, Fresh Meats, Vegetables, Fruits, Etc. ♦♦♦♦♦♦ FRYER’S MARKET BLAKELY, GEORGIA SHERIFF’S TAX SALE GEORGIA—EarIy County: There will be sold by the under signed on the First Tuesday in Sep tember, 1942, at public outcry to the highest bidder for cash, before the courthouse door of Early County, Georgia, in the City of Blakely, within the legal hours of sale, the east one-half of the southeast quar ter of lot of land number 223 in the 26th Land District of Early County, Georgia, containing 31 1-4 acres, more or less. Said real estate levied upon and to be sold under a certain tax exe cution issued against it in rem by J. L. Houston, Tax Commissioner of Early County, Georgia, on June Ist, 1942, for its unpaid State, County and School taxes for the year 1935. Said property not having been re turned for taxation by anyone since prior to January Ist, 1935, and its owner being unknown, and it being impossible to rent or hire such prop erty for enough to bring the requi site amount to pay such taxes. The undersigned also has in his hands six additional tax executions issued against said property by said Tax Commissioner on June Ist, 1942, for said property’s unpaid State, County and School taxes for the years 1936, 1937, 1938, 1939, 1940 and 1941 respectively. This June Ist, 1942. C. E. MARTIN, Sheriff. A Word to My Farmer Friends in Early County Although thousands of miles from home on the high seas and unable to greet you personally at this cotton ginning season, I bespeak for Martin & King Gin a portion of your 1942 ginning. The plant has been thoroughly con ditioned for the new season and will give you a sample as good as the best. Best wishes for a bumper crop for every Early county farmer! MILTON E. MARTIN Ensign U. S. N. R. BRING YOUR COWS AND HOGS TO US! Our pens are located at the old Early County Club yards near Bryant’s ■ S Mill. We buy, trade or ’*« sell. Your business will ~* be appreciated. Telephones: Office 256; Residence 186 Mosely Livestock Yards W. L. Mosely, - Blakely, Ga. NOTICE TO DEBTORS AND CREDITORS GEORGIA—EarIy County: All creditors of the estate of Vernon Lee Collins, late of Early county, deceased, are hereby notified to render in their demands to the undersigned according to law, and all persons indebted to said estate are required to make immediate pay ment. This August 17, 1942. • MRS. ANNETTA HIGHTOW ER COLLINS, as Adminis tratrix of the Estate of Ver non Lee Collins, deceased. WANTED Several families X>f colored people to pick cotton, also plenty of day labor work; would trade with tenants for 1943 crop if can move now. 0. J. JOHNSON, Moultrie, Ga. 6-3 t TEACHERS WANTED Experienced teachers, all subjects, salaries 25 per cent or more above state salary schedules. Give your age, degree, certificate, subjects and salary requirements in first let ter. Free enrollment. SOUTHERN TEACHERS’ AGENCY, Chattanoo ga, Tennessee. 25-3 t