Newspaper Page Text
Fulfilled
Bill Have you ever realized
any of your childhood hopes?
Pete—Yes; when mother used
to comb my hair I often wished I
didn’t have any.
Collecting ’Em
Henry—l’ve a good mind to pro
pose to you.
Mabel —Oh, please do. I need
one more proposal to beat my last
year’s record.
Sees Through It
“My Daddy’s so tall he can see
right over the garden fence.”
“So can mine when he’s got,
his hat on.”
Too Well
Stranger ls Shortleigh well
known around here?
Native —I’ll say he is. He is so
well known that he has to go out
of town to borrow a quarter.
Crying Need
Mary Jane —All my mistresses
have admitted that I’m full of
“go,” madam.
Employer That’s very nice,
but what I want is a girl with
some staying power.
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GUNLOCK
■RANCH-
by
FRANK H. SPEARMAN
■
Copyright Frank H. Spearman
WNU Service
SYNOPSIS
Sleepy Cat, desert town of the Southwest,
is celebrating the fourth of July, Jane Van
Tambel, beautiful daughter of Gus Van Tam
bel, hated owner of Gunlock ranch, has arrived
from the East for the first time. She watches
the Frontier Day celebration in company with
Doctor Carpy, crusty, tender-hearted friend
of the community. Henry Sawdy of the Cir
cle Dot ranch, tricked in a fake horse race
the day before by Dave McCrossen, foreman
at Gunlock, plans revenge. He enters Bill
Denison, a handsome young Texas wrangler,
in the rodeo which McCrossen is favored to
win, and lays heavy hets on him. Unknown
to the crowd, Denison is a champion horse
man. McCrossen and the young stranger tie
in the various events. Denison then drops a
cigarette carelessly. Racing down the track
full tilt, he picks up the cigarette. The ver
dict goes to Denison when McCrossen refuses
to attempt the stunt. Entreated by the crowd,
Denison agrees to perform another trick. Jane
Van Tambel is asked for her bracelet and
throw's it on the track. Just as Denison rides
to pick it up a yell from Barney Rebstock,
a McCrossen henchman, scares the pony, near
ly costing the rider his life. Gun play is pre
vented by the intervention of Doctor Carpy.
Back on Gunlock ranch, after two years in
Chicago, because of her father’s illness, Jane
gets lost riding in the hills and meets Deni
son, now a neighbor, who guides her home.
Not knowing her identity, he speaks bitterly
of Van Tambel. She tells NfcCrossen who
brought her home and he denounces Denison
as a cattle thief. Later she asks Doctor Carpy
why her father is unpopular and he tells her
it is because of Van Tambel’s ruthless and
unscrupulous character. McCrossen tries to
woo Jane, but is sharply rebuffed. Once again
she loses her way in the hills and meets Den
ison. On impulse she gives him her bracelet
for guiding her home. Their interest in each
other growing, she reveals her identity to
him. Jane is distressed to learn from Carpy
that her father had wronged Denison. The Tex
an had worked at) Gunlock as foreman and
been promised a share in the profits. When he
quit, Van Tambel reneged. In reprisal Denison
has been running cattle off Gunlock ranch.
Shamed and humiliated. Jane avoids Denison,
but longs to see him. When at length they
meet, he confesses his love. Forest fires sweep
the area, endangering the ranches. Jane sends
cowhands from Gunlock to aid Denison. When
McCrossen refuses to help, she discharges him.
CHAPTER Vl—Continued
Half a dozen cowboys had edged up
to listen to the controversy. Jane
whirled around to them. “Boys,” she
said, speaking in lower but very de
termined tones, “take no more orders
from Dave McCrossen. He’s no longer
foreman here.”
Reeling off her words rapidly and
firmly, Jane explained the situation to
her growing circle of listeners. “Now
I have discharged McCrossen,” she
said in conclusion, “and I want all of
you boys who are loyal to me to ride
with me over to the fire line on the
Denison ranch and see what we can
do to save his buildings. Those of
you who will go, line up here with me.”
One of the boys, Bull Page, stepped
promptly to Jane’s side. Before he
reached It, four more were on their
way. Barney Rebstock and a crony
stood still. It meant that they sided
with the foreman.
“Now, Bull,” she added snappily,
“hunt up as many of the other boys
as you can find and let’s get going.”
Within a few minutes, with the
ponies dancing and the men shouting,
a party of ten headed south for the
Denison ranch.
Not until they reached the last crest
of the hills separating the two ranches
and Jane looked over on the lowlands
of the smaller ranch, did she catch her
breath in sudden fear. In the distance
she saw a formidable wall of white
smoke billowing into the sky above the
timber along the border of the reser
vation.
In the nearer distance lay Denison’s
buildings. Between the two points a
second fire burned, curving like a great
scimitar along the cut-over lands sur
rounding the ranch.
“Bull!” she called fearfully to her
nearest cowboy. “What does it all
mean —is there anything that can be
saved?”
“Why, I can see where they’ve been
back-firin’. Can’t tell much about it
till we get Closter. Come on, boys!
Push ’em over the hill. If this is too
fast for you, miss,” he yelled, “follow
us 1”
But nothing was too fast for Jane.
The city girl was always on their
heels.
With the ponies in a lather, the Gun
lock crew pulled up short before the
ranch-house corral, where a party of
fire fighters just from town were
starting for the front. Henry Sawdy,
smoked and scorched, was guiding
them out. Bill Pardaloe headed the
town men. In the bunch were the
evangelist preacher, Big Bill Hayes,
alias Panama; the liveryman, McAl
pin; Spotts, the bald-headed and pro
fane barber; Seiwood, the cattleman,
with half a dozen of his men; Jim
Laramie, from away up in the Crazy
Woman country, with a bunch of his
cowboys.
Jane saw a man riding up from the
creek, but it did not look to her like
Bill Denison. Not until he drew near
and lifted his hat hastily to her as he
rode over to talk to Pardaloe, did she
realize it was he.
▲s rapidly as possible he greeted the
THE SUMMERVILLE NEWS: THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1936
newcomers, told them where they were
most needed, pointed and started them
on their way, and turned to Jane.
The boys, including Jane’s contin
gent, dashed off with much shouting
and yelling. Conspicuous among them
rode the evangelist preacher, Panama,
his heavy, straight black hair dancing
up and down under his sombrero, and
with him rode his neophyte, the bald
and profane Jake Spotts.
“Oh, Bill!” exclaimed Jane, as Deni
son rode up, “I’m so sorry.”
“I hope I didn’t stir things up over
there, by sending that message. I
shouldn’t have done it, only—l prom
ised,” he said in a dry, cracked voice.
“Don’t think about the small things,
Bill. You should have sent long ago.
I brought all the men I could.”
“McCrossen refused to come?”
“He was kind of mean —so I came
myself—l hope I’ll do for a substi
tute?”
His answering smile was joyful. “It
was too good of you to come, Jane.
But now I’ve got to ride right out
again. Would you step into the cabin
and rest up before you ride back?”
“Ride back? Yes, but who’s going
to cook for all these men? I’m going
back to get Quong and bring him over
in the chuck wagon and take posses
sion here.”
Noon passed before Jane got back to
Denison’s and installed herself with
Quong in the kitchen.
One man, severely burned, came in
from the front towards dark. Carpy
could not be reached till morning.
Jane bandaged the man’s arms and fed
him. Denison rode in late, smoked
and scorched anew, but tireless.
“Bill,” she asked, sitting down op
posite him, “tell me honestly: are you
holding it?”
“Jane, to tell the truth, I don’t
know. Sometimes I think we are —
sometimes it looks bad. In a forest
tire, every hour must tell its own
story; that’s about the size of it.”
It was late when they walked out
of doors together. The southern sky
was angry red. “It’ll be a hard day
tomorrow, Bill,” said Jane. “There’s
Oil 1!
ml
Afterward He Sat Down Beside
Jane on the Bench Outside the
Door.
nothing more I can do here, tonight.
I’m going home. I’ll be back by day
light in the morning. You go to bed.
You must be dead.”
“I’ll ride over along with you, Jane.”
“No, you will not.”
“But, Jane, you’re not going to de
prive me of riding home with yon?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh, please!” He pleaded with her
like a boy. “I’ve been counting on it
all day —”
‘I thought you'd been fire-fighting all
day."
“Fighting fire and thinking about
you and saying, ‘Tonight I'll ride home
with Jane.’ Oh, girl! If you knew
what that means.”
Bull Page stood by the ponies. Den
ison saddled his own, and Jane and
her escort set out for Gunlock.
They did not ride fast. There was
so much to talk over. Both were se
rious. Denison knew better than Jane
how grave the danger was both to him
self and to her. But he had his hour
with the woman he loved, and for that
hour what else in the world mattered?
“Oh, Bill,” protested Jane, faintly,
sick at heart with the happiness of
listening to his words. “Don’t! Yon
mustn’t say such things. I won’t lis
ten to you, Bill. I’m nothing but a
girl, and you’re making me a goddess
or a fairy—stop such nonsense. Not
one word more, Bill Denison. If you
keep on, I’ll break out crying. Here’s
the house, anyway. Good night. I’ll
be over in the morning at daylight.
Think well of me, Bill. I always shall
of you!”
Every available man was out on the
front lines when Jane reached the
threatened ranch after daybreak.
Quong kept the little stove in the
kitchen hot, and Jane, busy about the
cabin and looking after the boy burned
the day before, did not realize how fast
the morning was going, until Carpy ar
rived from town to dress the lad’s
burns. He greeted Jane and, with her
to help, went to work on his patient.
Afterward he sat down beside Jane
on the bench outside the door.
‘So,” said he, “you’re playing good
Samaritan. How are you holding out
over at Gunlock?” ,
“All right; the danger is all from
this way. If we can hold the fire over
here, it’s not likely to bother us. Oh,
doctor,” exclaimed Jane, springing t«
her feet, “what does that mean?”
Riding out of the woods south the
ranch house, she saw a party of men
slowly advancing. Doctor Carpy’s eyes
were more practiced. “Some one hurt,"
he said tersely. Jane was in a flutter.
“Keep cool,” admonished Carpy as he
rose. “We’ll soon know what it’s all
about.”
Riding between two men, supporting
him on his pony, a third man riding
behind the trio, Carpy saw the injured
man, hatless and coatless, and heard
him suppress an occasional groan.
Carpy walked forward to greet the
party. “Well, boys,” he asked, “who
is it this time?”
Jim Laramie answered. “Why, doc,
it’s Jake Spotts. There’s been a bad
accident. Jake and Panama got cut
off up by the pass. Stayed too long.
I’m glad you’re here, doc; he’s hurt
pretty bad.”
“No!” screamed Spotts, so blackened
and burned as to be unrecognizable,
and writhing in pain, “it ain’t me, doc;
it’s Panama ! Damn it —go back, boys,
and get Panama. I tell you, go back!”
■ “Denison has gone to get him, doc,”
explained Laramie. “Keep quiet, Jake,
you only make your leg worse. It’s
his leg, doc.”
Carpy motioned. “Bring him into
the cabin.”
The unfortunate barber, eased, with
many groans, off the pony, was laid
on the dinner table, asking for water
and half deliriously calling for Pan
ama. Carpy examined Spotts. He
found to his relief that the man was
not seriously burned.
“It’s his left leg.” explained Carpy a
little later to the group; “broke down
near the ankle.”
“Doc,” moaned the hollow-eyed, lan
tern-jawed barber, “I’m all right. For
God’s sake get the boys to go back aft
er Panama.”
Carpy saw that nothing but a bluff
would quiet the pain-racked man. He
turned to the men standing by and
winked. “Here, you fellows! Get
right out and hunt for Panama. And
don’t show up here till you find him!”
thundered Carpy.
Keeping up a rapid fire of talk,
Carpy opened his bag, set out his need
ed appliances -and his bottle of chloro
form, gradually subdued the man, got
him, with Jane’s help, under the anes
thetic, and working in his shirt sleeves
and in the intense heat at a breath
taking speed, finished the operation,
sat down, drew a cigar from his waist
coat pocket and lighted it.
“Jane,” he said, “I suppose this is
your first surgical case?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“You’d make a good nurse, girl.”
“Doctor, what do you suppose he
meant calling so for Panama?”
Carpy explained. “Today,” he con
tinued, “Panama was his partner on
the line: the men work in pairs gen
erally.”
“I hope they'll find him all right.”
“I hope,” observed Carpy thought
fully, “he’ll be all right when they do
find him.”
“There come some of the boys. Deni
son is with them,” Carpy said suddenly,
pointing to the edge of the woods.
“They’re halting. They’ve got some
thing slung across the back of a pony.
I’ll walk over.”
CHAPTER VII
Dr. Carpy walked hurriedly to the
edge of the woods where the men gath
ered closely around him.
“Best thing to do is to take off that
old bunkhouse door, Bill,” said Carpy,
when he saw whom they were carrying.
“We can lay him on that and carry him
over here to the shed.”
They had brought Panama out of the
burned timber where Denison and Bull
Page had found him. They had taken
in a pony, bareback, to where he lay,
slung the big fellow across it, and thus
carried him through the woods.
Panama was lifted from the pony
and laid on the door. A colored neck
erchief was laid over his face, and with
stumbling steps he was carried back of
the bunkhouse. Two sawhorses had
been set to support the door, and on it
Panama lay at rest. His companions
made ready to start back for the fire
lines.
“Now, boys, watch out,” said Deni
son gravely. “We can’t afford any
more mistakes like this. If Jake and
Panama had listened to me they
wouldn’t have got cut off. Bull,” he
added, speaking to Page, “get up a pair
of ponies, if you can find ’em, and hitch
’em to the light wagon. Carpy wants
Panama taken right in town to the un
dertaker's.”
The injured barber was coming to.
He had been carried to the bunkhouse
and was propped up on a bench out
side the doorway. He looked at Carpy
wistfully. “Tell me, Doc,” he begged,
“have they found Panama yet?”
I did what little I could do for him
here. But I’ve not got what’s needed
here for treatment. Panama’s got to
go to town. They’re hitching up the
wagon.”
Spotts started up, on fire. “Then
I’ve got to see him before he goes.
Don't let ’em start till I see him, Doc.
Where is he?”
Carpy tried in vain to quiet his pa
tient. He might as well have tried to
stop a forest fire by talking to it,
“Keep your leg quiet, Jake. You mustn’t
have any excitement tonight. I’ve
done my best for you. Now, damn it,
dry up: I tell you you can’t see him.”
A dreadful light dawned on the bar
ber. His gaunt jaw dropped, his hol
low eyes flamed. “Doc!” he cried out.
“Panama’s dead!”
The word rang in Carpy’s ears for
many a day. “Jake,” he said brusque
ly, “I’ve tried to soften things for you
—doesn’t seem to be no use. They
pulled him out of the woods after the
tire passed a grove back of Gunlock
Knob.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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Cow Tunnel
One of the worst hazards of
the highway is a loose cow. Be
cause her actions are unpredict
able, not a few motorists—not to
mention cows have lost their
! lives. Yet thousands of farmers
| are forced to drive their cattle
across busy thoroughfares every
day.
To overcome this, one Pennsyl
vania farmer recently built a tun
nel under the highway near his
house. It is of concrete pipe five
feet in diameter. The farmer now
drives his cattle under the road
i instead of over it. Washington
I Post.