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J—-- ®Srir sJ9abgn 'Z:. ***&•*•* [Red Range By EUGENE CUNNINGHAM ■ © EUGENE CUNNINGHAM W.N.U. RELEASE ,r»' *"” w . _ THE STORY SO FAR: Forced to run •rom the law to save his life when he is uwspected of being the notorious “Co manche Linn,” Con Cameron is trying to p.-ove his honesty. With his pal, Caramba Vw, he is working for Topeka Tenison, owu«r of the Broken Wheel ranch. Nevil Lowe, marshal of the neighboring town of Tivan, is after him but doesn’t yet know that the “Twenty Johnson” of the Broken Wheel is the man he suspects of being Comanche Linn. Lowe’s sister, Janet, is staying with the Tenisons. They are deeply attached to her, having lost their only child, a boy, when he was kid naped many years before. On their way out to the ranch after persuading Tenison to give them the Job, Con and Caramba met Monk Irby, one of the Megeath crowd. Megeath and Dud Paramore, leader of another band of outlaws, hate both Nevil Lowe and the Broken Wheel outfit. In the fight which followed their meeting with Irby, Con knocked out Irby. Then he and Caramba fought off more of Megeath’s men to protect Janet Lowe. Con finds the Graceys, a family of “nest ers,” shot and suspects Monk Irby. To peka sends him into town for a doctor, with instructions to tell the constable, Janton, and no one else, about his sus picions. Janton doesn’t say much, but clearly implies that he doesn't want to have anything to do with it. He refuses to arrest Irby or even to tell where he is. Con decides to look for Irby himself and is attacked by the Latlmers, who are also enemies of the Broken Wheel. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER XVI The boys got back to the house in time for a late supper and after ward, loafing in the bunkhouse, Perch blew smoke from the side of his battered mouth and squinted at Con. “None of my business, of course,” he drawled, “but the doctor told To peka some about you tangling with the Latimers. From what he says, they was both onto you at once, all same hounds on a coon. Now, me, I only bucked Latimer. Which was just plenty! He’s hell’s handful, I would say. But, did he slip like the doctor thinks, or did you really lay him out?” Con looked at him suspiciously, but there was nothing except friend ly curiosity in Perch’s face. “I laid him out—cold,” Con told them evenly. Tonelessly and briefly he told of drawing against Latimer; of the fight and its outcome. Perch and the cook said nothing. Con took the Colt from his holster and slipped it into his waistband, as it had been in Onopa. He demonstrated his draw with his gunhand moving snaky-fast. “Oh!” Perch said softly, nodding. “Now, I can see it—and see some thing else: I had been listening to Gale and Topeka and when they fig ured it out you had a kid’s luck with Slash Oxwcld, I reckon I took it that way. But, Gale and Topeka, they never watched you slap leath er, huh? No, I thought not. But if you don’t want folks boogering, don’t make a draw where they can see it. You like that waistband hideout bet ter’n a shoulder holster?” “My old uncle had a yard of scar across his chest and belly, from a shoulder holster draw that slipped. He sort of soured on ’em and I reckon he scared me of ’em. So I’ve always packed my gun some where else.” “He a Texas man?” the cook asked. “Runs in my mind I seen some fellow scarred all across his front from a gun that slipped. Years back, that was. I worked so many places I disremember a lot. But—” Caramba and Skeets and Johnny Dutch came in with the horses from Red Mesa near noon. They ate with Con and Perch and afterward Con drew Caramba aside to tell him that; IlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllllllllllllllllO BLAKELY THEATRE Thursday-Friday, August 27-28 Shirley Temple—Herbert Marshall —Laraine Day in “KATHLEEN” Saturday, August 29 WILLIAM BOYD—RUSSELL HAYDEN in “PIRATES ON HORSEBACK” Saturday Late Show 10:30 GUY KIBBEE-—DICKIE MOORE—JED PROUTY in “SCATTERGOOD RIDES HIGH” Monday-Tuesday, Aug. 31-Sept. 1 CLAUDE RAINS—LON CHANEY in “THE WOLF MAN” Wednesday, Sept. 2 THE MERRY MACS—BABY SANDY in “MELODY LANE” iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii he was staying as a sort o? guard. Caramba shook his head. “Didn’t you know that Gale Goree cut back to meet us? He told us a li’l’ bit about you tangling with some hard case and What was the straight of that?” Con described the fight with Lati mer in the cantina and Caramba swore irritably. “This is a damn’ whiskers outfit! Goree and Topeka, they count you nothing but a kid that was lucky something happened to Slash Ox weld and you downed him accidental. But Goree would have took you on this cow-work, account you’re a rop er he can’t help admitting there ain’t the like of on the place. He even figured by the time roundup was over you’d be the top hand on the place—account of him showing you how, of course. But Topeka just looked at you and put you to wran gling stovewood!” Con stared grimly at him, with face reddening: “He did, did he! Well, I can still put a sizable spoke in his Busted Wheel. I’m going to roll my bed and hit Lit Taylor at Los Alamos for a job.” Caramba watched him over the cigarette he was making. “I wouldn’t, if I was you,” he ad vised softly. “All this tom-foolery of Topeka’s made me so hot I was fit to tie. But I have been talking a good deal to Skeets and Johnny Dutch, Con. My notion is, from what you told me about Paramore and what I know about Megeath, leaving that pretty Janet Lowe here, with all the outfit gone, is just the same as hammering the old tire and yell ing to ’em to come and get it!” “I don’t know,” Con said sulkily, wishing that he had said less. “I—l haven’t thought about it, yet.” “Fine! Now that we got it all set tled—you and Perch can help us a li’l’ bit along the road.” In mid-afternoon, Perch and Con rode with Skeets and Caramba for a few miles. Perch reined in before dusk and sat comfortably with leg around the saddle horn, to make a cigarette and beam paternally upon Skeets. “Now, son,” he said genially, “you-all will be safe. Just keep ’em a-going the way you seen me do. Some of them horses I seen come along as colts and branded and rode. Just follow ’em and remember they’ll be doing what they think I’d want ’em to be doing.” “You take care of Old Folks,” Skeets called as he whirled his horse. “Be seeing you!” “Be seeing you!” Caramba ech oed, grinning at Con. “You take care of yourself, boy!” He spurred after Skeets and from the edge of a ridge his high yell car ried to Perch and Con: » “Aiiih-aiiih-aaaaiiiah! Yeee-pah! ” “Happy jigger,” Perch comment ed, grinning. “Well, once I was a young sprout like that, full of vine gar; interesting to myself and other folks. Most cowboys don’t get old— don’t live long enough! But the ones that do, they ought to look ahead and figure on owning his own outfit, yes, sir! No use and no sense of ending up like me or old Step—” “Who’s Step?” Con asked idly. “Ain’t you seen him around the place?, He keeps to hisself a lot. Got him a li’l’ adobe alongside some of the Mex’ help. Putters around. He’s crippled in one leg account of some horse rolling on him, one time. ‘Step’ mostly. Gafford’s his go-by. I wouldn’t be surprised if old Step one time rode morb high lines than he rode range. But old as he is. I wouldn’t sav it loud!” EARLY COUNTY NEWS. BLAKELY, GEORGIA < £ JO-V He rode a little forward, lifting his hand. They ate the steak and eggs and fried-apple pies for supper and played a few hands of mild stud poker afterward. The next morn ing the doctor went back to Onopa. Con harnessed the doctor’s heavy black horse to his buggy and asked about Mrs. Gracey and the boy. “The kid’s all right. Keep him in bed for a day or two and he’ll be pawing the air to get out. But his mother—it’s a matter of her consti tution. If she should happen to take a turn for the worse, Mrs. Tenison will send one of you in for me. I’ll come as soon as I can.” When the doctor’s buggy had dis appeared, Perch suggested that Con ride to White Rock Pasture for a routine look at the horses there. Con saddled the black he had ridden once before. As he shoved his car bine into the scabbard, Janet spoke behind him. “If you’ll catch me that sorrel,” she said, “I’ll side you. I’ve just got to get out of the house for a while!” The horses went nose-to-nose across the yard and Con opened a gate in the wire fence, let Janet pass and closed it behind them. Then they foxtrotted out over rolling range with the hills far ahead of them. Con looked stonily before him. “What’s to be done about hunting down Gracey’s murderer, do you know?” Janet asked him suddenly. “Unless word was sent to your brother, and he does something—not a thing!” “From what that amazing little boy said, you have an idea about the murderers; who they are.” “Monk Irby. Friend of Slash Ox weld’s. But nothing will be done from Onopa. Gracey and Constable Janton were on the outs. He’s glad that somebody did what he didn’t have the nerve to do. He told me so.” “I never have thanked you for what you did the other night,” she told him abruptly, so that he twisted his head to stare. “You know how much I thank you for that other time, at our house, for saving me from Dud. That was the bravest thing! Nevil said the same.” “I never thought about it as being brave. It just seemed like one of those things that’ll cause a lot of trouble, but—need to be done. That must be one of the manadas ahead.” The bay stallion and his harem were crossing a flat below them. He saw the riders and threw up his head defiantly. “Are those the cowboys from the line camp?” she asked. “Don’t think so,” Con replied, staring at the tight little knot of men coming over a rise toward the mares. “I wish I had a pair of glasses.” He rode a little forward and lifted his hand. They saw him, but came on. One man got a carbine out. The others made significant motions to ward their belts. “Get back over the ridge!” he snapped at her. “I think I’ve got the best of this. Get back! Fast!” He was hardly conscious of the sor rel’s thundering hoofs behind him. The rifleman was bringing his sad dle gun to bear and the other men brandished pistols. Con squeezed trigger and saw the bullet kick up dust beyond the horses a hundred yards away. Then he corrected his aim and fired three fast shots at the man with the rifle. With the shots the other riders fired quickly at him and ducked, to dart to the side so that ten yards separated each from his neighbor. Their lead fell short. The rifleman had not loosed his slug. He dropped the carbine and swayed, holding his body with both hands as if cold—or suffering a stomach-ache. But he stayed with the horse and it slowed to a trot, then a walk. Con fired grimly at the others in turn. But they jerked on the reins and went farther right and left. The rifleman was now clinging to his saddle horn. All fight seemed gone from him. He got the horse turned and spurred him to a run. Then the horse of the man nearest him came down with suddenness that catapulted his rider straight ahead. The cowboy seemed to twist purposefully in air and struck the ground on his feet. He ran Two long paces forward before he stumbled. Con was reloading as fast as his fingers could jerk shells from his belt and ram them into the loading gate. He took three long shots at the departing men and saw dust jump from one jumper. Then the three of them disappeared and he looked at the man on the ground, forty yards away. He was sitting, now, shaking his head violently. “Dear me!” Con said aloud. “First they wanted to play, then they wanted to go home. So they picked up their marbles and went away from here. Changeablest peo ple, Blackie! Let’s go down and look at this one ...” The cowboy, a slender, dark youngster, had a nose bleed. But his head seemed to have cleared. Over the sleeve he held to his nose his narrow eyes regarded Con steadily. “You damn’ fool!” he cried. “What’s the idee, whanging away at us? Can’t nobody ride across this range of yours without you got to shoot off that Winchester at ’em?” Two yards from him, Con halted the black horse and studied him. “Chunk me that pretty, big pistol you’re wearing,” he ordered. “I just shoved some more persuaders into this . . .” Calmly, the cowboy took out his pistol and tossed it from him. Con’s face hardened. “Thought it was easy picking, did you, when the wagon rolled off? All you had to do was stroll down and pick out what you wanted, huh? We’ve been waiting for you. If more than four of you had come, two of us would’ve been here.” He looked briefly at the Colt on the ground, then let his carbine rest across the saddle while he fished tobacco and papers from his pocket. “Do’ no’ what you’re driving at,” the cowboy drawled. “Me and my friends was heading for the Bug-on a-Stick west of here. Cigarette?” He caught the sack and papers and rolled a cigarette while Con watched him. Then he got up stiffly, put his hand down in a natural mo tion as for a match and—it van ished behind him, to twitch back with a Colt, apparently drawn from the rear of his waistband. Con had not picked up his car bine. But he had not let the ham mer down, either. Now, he pulled trigger without raising it. He missed, but the bullet went so near to the cowboy that he flinched and his own slug buzzed waspishly past Con’s head. Then Con fired with lifted carbine, flicked down the lev ' er and fired again. Both shots were hits; both struck over the heart. The hideout dropped from the cowboy’s fingers. He turned completely around and lifted one foot as if to walk off. But it seemed no more than reflex movement. He sagged, rather than fell, to the grass. (To Be Continued) ' Ml w ARB YOU putting Ten hr Cent of your Income into U.S. War Bonds f, Stomps? Our Phone No. Is 180 Call us for the best in Meats and Groceries. We carry at all times a complete line of Fancy and Family Groceries. It is our purpose to keep what the public wants. The place where quality counts— The place where goods are fresh—■ The place where prices are right— 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 r Towers of Truth' I Chinese, Finnish, Tagalog, Dutch, Spanish—programs in more than a dozen tongues go out from the towers of General Electric stations WGEA and WGEO, Schenectady, and KGEI, San Francisco. iWf 1. They provide authentic war in formation for news-starved peoples around the globe, entertainment for U.S. forces abroad. TheseG-E short wave stations ... _, nt it z****^^***^jMMM’ ■ 3. They provided the only U.S. pro grams that reached Bataan. People in conquered lands risk their lives to listen. Smuggled letters say they bring hope of release. , General Electric believes that its first duty as a ’■ good citizen is to be a good soldier. General Electric Company, Schenectady, N. Y. Mt-tr-m JENERA! ®BLECt»IC 0 —a—i hi mm 'Hilf min —r BRING YOUR COWS AND HOGS TO US! Our pens are located at the old Early County |n| Club yards near Bryant'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. 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. 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. 2. ... have special antennas “pointed” at Australia, South America, China, Europe—making reception there almost as strong as from local stations. r ip 4. Some announcers are regular G-E production employees, working on war work. They tell people in their native lands that America is determined on victory.