Houston home journal. (Perry, Houston County, Ga.) 1924-1994, September 04, 1941, Image 7

Houston home journal., September 04, 1941, Image 7

About Houston home journal. (Perry, Houston County, Ga.) 1924-1994 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 4, 1941)

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Newspaper Page TextW. N.U. Release t® V Duity King and Lew Gordon were joint owners of the vast King-Gordon range which jtretcbed from Texas to Montana. When building up this string of ranches, they con tmually had to fight the unscrupulous Ben Thoii e- He rivaled King-Gordon In wealth • » CHAPTER VII These men whom Roper now gath ered about him hated a particular man, not only as lawless as them jelves, but a man who was more (ban one man. Ben Thorpe was a thousand men; operating under CJeve Tanner in the south, and Walk Lasham in the north, his innumer able retainers filamented the plains from the Rio Grande to the Big Horn. That Roper’s men hated Ben Thorpe was no coincidence; Roper had picked men of personal grudge. Most of them had first been out lawed because they had not suited a single organization the organiza tion of Ben Thorpe. Up and down and across half of Texas, constantly in the saddle, Bill Roper threaded his new organiza tion. Sometimes Dry Camp Pierce was with him; more often he trav eled alone. These famous gunfight ers and outlawed men whom Roper gathered were just youngsters, most ly, Some of them were true killers; some merely reckless kids who had got off on the wrong foot. All of them were badly wanted by what little law there was. One night in early June, Dry Camp Pierce and Bill Roper sat in the back room of a saloon, deep in Texas. "Look,” Dry Camp Pierce said. "I’ve stole cows until I could pave my way to hell with their hides. But—l don’t know—to steal cows for Dusty’s kid—” Bill Roper’s teeth flashed clean in his grin. “Whose cows?” “I’ve stole cows—” "You’re going to steal cows that belong to me, now.” “Figure you own these cows?” “I’m half of King-Gordon, now split. I’ve taken, out of King-Gor don, seven camps without cows; now I’m claiming the cows that Thorpe took from Dusty King. And from some other men that we’re going to lend a hand to, pretty soon.” Dry Camp Pierce—he was called Shat because he hated to camp too near to water—went to work for Bill Roper as he had never worked before; and thus the king of cow thieves, the brand changer extraor dinary, for once aligned on the side of the law that was not. Ten rustlers’ camps hooked into Thorpe-Tanner territory . , . But Dry Camp also helped in oth er ways. A hot June dusk, five days after the meeting at Whipper Forks, found Bill Roper at the Dry Saddle Cross ing, where he was to meet Lee Har nish; and this meeting, too, was ar ranged by Dry Camp Pierce, though by this time Pierce was already far •Way, Were ran the broad, many-chan neied river, dividing two countries — * liver whose split wanderings made two miles of intermittent shallows. At this border of a vast, impercepti bly rolling prairie stood a narrow •tring of adobe shacks. That was the Dry Saddle Crossing. Two men—Bill Roper and Lee Harnish—sat in front of one of those •bandoned shacks, and tried to get together. 'T’ve always understood,” Roper •aid, “that you were acquainted lome, below the line.” Harnish’s hard eyes studied Rop- W, and for a little while nothing could be heard except the mourn hig of doves in the willow scrub by the water. Next to Dry Camp Pierce, Lee Harnish was the oldest of those k> join Roper; he was twenty-eight, be was tall and lank, sun-baked al most to the color of an Indian; his tmen eyes were curiously blank, im penetrable, and he liked to look his m& n in the eye with the peculiar fcdty seen in the gaze of hawks. "I’ve been down there some,” he admitted. “I’ve made a few drives Chihuahua; one drive to Mex ico City.” ‘Tf you had a big wet herd run w you just below the line, would ycu know ho to get rid of it?” I can’t make out your hand,” “armsh said. “King-Gordon never •wung the long rope yet, that I heard of.” "I’m not King-Gordon now. My itunt is to smash Cleve Tanner; and I don’t care what it costs.” "What’s wrong with backing him nto a shoot-out, if that’s what you want?” 1 hat comes later. If I bust Tan ner I can bust Thorpe. But if Tan- Jjcr is gunned before he’s busted, ihorpe will take over in Texas, and , 6 chance to break up his Texas * a yout will be gone.” You ain’t going to bust him by cunning off a few head of cattle, kid ” r * ver cross i n g is S I° W work, I figure to cross five thousand 't-fjci within the next three months,” ttcper told him. F ; ve thousand head won’t even icratch the hide of Thorpe and Tan ker, son.” 1 know that as well as you. What !' do, it’ll draw Tanner to throw warriors onto the border. That’s I want. Because by then I’ll working somewhere ei*e ” INSTALLMENT 5 THE STORV SO FAR: and power, but had gained his position through wholesale cattle rustling and gun play. One afternoon King was killed by Thorpe and his two assistants. Cleve Tan ner and Walk Lasham. King’s adopted son. # Roper, decided to start a cattle war And you want me to take ’em on the other side—is that the idee?” I want three dollars a head, American gold, paid off as the cat tle come out of the water ...” Roper’s ways of gathering his wild bunch were diverse, as diverse as the saddle men he gathered. One or another, picking up a man here, three more there, he got all he needed, and more. But certain other things had to be done, in order that the wild bunch would have work to do, planned in such away that something would be accomplished that would stay ac complished. On a steamy afternoon early in July, Bill Roper sat in Fred Max im’s San Antonio law office. Maxim was an attorney who, some thought, had worked under a different name, somewhere before; but here, assur edly he was in no one’s pay. “I’m not asking the likes of you what’s what,” Bill Roper said. "I Roper’s ways of gathering his wild bunch were diverse, want to know who actually owns range rights on the Graham stand.” The hard-bitten little man across the desk from Roper was still cadgy. “When it comes to ousting a man from possession—” “You know who ‘ousted’ Bob Gra ham and his family from possession. Cleve Tanner took over that outfit by main horse-and-gun £ower, with out decent cause or reason. Every body knows that. I’m asking you now—” “Taylor and Graves are already doing everything that can be done to regain possession of Graham’s outfit,” Maxim said, smiling. It was the smile that Roper liked. “Suppose I hold the Bob Graham lands, and Bob Graham’s family are living on it. “Bob Graham hasn’t got posses sion,” Maxim said. “Suppose he did have?” “Never could happen. Ben Thorpe” “Shut up a minute,” Roper said. “I’m not asking you to put Graham back in possession of his range. I’m not asking you to save him from being put off again in the way he was before. What I want to know is, can you head off some cooked-up legal interference with Graham, aft er he’s in possession again?” Fred Maxim thought it over. “I can only promise you that I can cause considerable delay,” he said. “Months of delay?” “Providing you can show posses sion—l’ll keep you clear until hell freezes.” “That’s all I want ...” Still July, at Willow Creek— A barren range of hills, sand hills; golden in the dawn, purple in the twilight, barren always. Beneath them, what had been the Willow Creek camp of the old King-Gordon. In the bunkhouse nearest the river, five men lounging around a little room. “All right, you hard guys,” Bill Roper said; “you know who told you to come here. Dry Camp Pierce told you to come here. Maybe he told you what you could look for here, huh?” These four gunfighters who met Roper here were none of them older ( than Bill; yet each was famous as a killer in his own right. Of them all Bill Roper alone had no name, no ' reputation. Yet, in respect for the name of Dusty King, they had come to hear him out. Nate Liggett, a round-faced kid with eyelashes that looked as if they had been powdered with white dust, said, “Well, what seems to be your offer?” fin up BRIO HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY, GEORGIA against Thorpe In Texas. He made this de cision against the strong opposition of his partner, Lew Gordon. Bill’s sweetheart, Jody Gordon, pleaded frantically with hdm to turn back, but could not change his grim determination. * * “I guess you already know Bob Graham,” Roper said. "You know how a warrior gang of Cleve Tan ner’s jumped down on him, on some thin excuse, and run him off his range. They even took over his house and his windmill and. his cor rals. Now, I aim to hand back that range to Bob Graham; he’s waiting in Bigspring for the word. Your part of the job is simple enough—you just go and take it away from the Tanner bunch.” “Simple, huh? Just how do you figure this simple trick is to be done?” “A lawyer in San Antonio kept the Rangers off when Tanner jumped Graham. Now we’ve got an other better lawyer in San Antonio to keep them off when Graham jumps Tanner. The only question is, who’s got enough salt to grab that range—and then hang onto it?” “And what do we get out of all this?” “Graham takes over the outfit and runs it. You hang around and help him, and see that he do'esn’t get run off again. For that you get a half interest in the outfit. You split it among you any way you sea fit. I’ll back Graham with cattle, and what other stuff he needs.” Nate Liggett said, “Bill, I don’t see where we come in for no ad vantage.” “If you’re satisfied with the lone wolf stuff you’ve been pulling, I haven’t got anything to offer you,” Roper admitted. “But I’ll tell you this—the boys that string with me now will see the day when they’ll run Texas; and Cleve Tanner, and Ben Thorpe, too, will be busted up and forgot!” “It’s a hefty order!” “Maybe it is. This Graham busi ness is a kind of experiment; it’ll work if you make it work. But if it goes through okay—it’s only the beginning, you hear me? You string with me a little while; and maybe, by God, we’ll show a couple of peo ple something ...” CHAPTER VIII Tfot, dry days o/ early August — As the first sun struck with a red he«t across the plains, the Tanner mf.n who held the Graham ranch were already saddling. All over Texas, cowmen were throwing to gether the last trail herds of the year; it was time for these Tanner men to roll their chuck wagons again, to round up the last of the trail-fit stock that remained in the herds which had belonged to Bob Graham. Out from what had been the Gra ham corral, three riders swept through the dusty dawn; but they had hardly left the pole fences be hind when six other riders confront ed them, rising into their saddles like Comanches, out of the brush. The strangers closed in a semi-cir cle, unhurriedly, their carbines in their hands. In another minute or two the three Tanner riders were grouped in a defensive knot, while from the semi-circle of the raiders Nate Liggett jogged forward to talk it over. “1 don’t think you want to go on,” he said. “I don’t even think you want to work for this outfit any more.” Two nights later, one hundred and fifty miles away — With the approach of dusk, a pe culiar light lay upon the valley o! the Potreros. In a reach of open grass a herd of five hundred head bunched loosely—tame, heavy cat tle, already well removed by breed ing from the old, wild, iong-horn strain. But they had not bunched voluntarily. They shuffled restless ly, watching the brush! something was happening around them that they did not understand. As the light failed, the figures oJ horsemen emerged from the brush, cutting mile-long shadows into the flat rays of sunset; the huge, heavy shouldered man who signaled to his spread-out cowboys by turning his horse this way or that, in Indian horse language, was Dave Shannon. They did not harass the cattle. Only, between sunset and the next daylight, no cow took a step other than in the direction of the Mexi can border . . . Ury grass season ; Texas scorched oy 1 the hot winds — All across the southern ranges * I peculiar thing was happening. As 1 word spread from twenty points of [ disturbance, certain of the older cat tlemen began to sense that there was a curious, almost systematic order to what in itself seemed a widespread disruption. Ail over the | Big Bend country, eastward almost to the well settled Nueces, west ward beyond the barren Pecos, northward to the fever line, was breaking a spotty wave of raids of an unparalleled boldness. Far apart, but almost simultaneously, hell had busted loose in a great number of 1 places, covering more than half of Texas. (TO BE CONTINUEDI j Lovely Scarf Has Many Uses Pattern 7038. A DD loveliness to your home with this easily crocheted scarf to be made in various sizes. Done in fine cotton, its pineapple I ... you’ll get 2 better cigarette I H Raleighs are a blend of 31 selected grades of choice Turkish and EH ■ Domestic tobaccos—made from the more expensive, more golden- RE ■ colored leaves that bring top prices at the great tobacco sales. KB I ...and valuable premiums FREE! 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