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TO RIDE
THE.
CHAPTER VII
Frank Chiswick swung from the
saddle stiffly.
“How’s every little thing?’’ his
brother Bob asked.
“All right with me.”
“Anything doing at Tail Holt?”
“Plenty. Where’s the old man?”
“In the house writing a letter.”
Frank unsaddled and turned his
horse into a pasture.
“Better come along and listen to
my story,” he said.
From a kitchen window Ruth saw
her brothers and followed them into
the office. She heard her father’s
booming greeting.
“ ’Lo, Frank,” she said. “You
haven’t changed much. We still
have the same old cat.”
“You came mighty near not hav
ing the same old brother,” he told
her with a grin.
“Had trouble, did you?” Lee in
quired.
“Some. Maybe it was my own
fault. I had a fight. I’ve been shot
at several times. I was cornered
in a hayloft when the stable was on
fire. A fellow who calls himself
Jeff Gray saved my life.”
The family stared at him. This
category of adventures struck them
dumb for a moment.
“Sit down, son, and tell it,” his
father suggested after he had found
speech.
When Frank reached in his nar
rative the fight with Lou Howard,
his sister cut in sharply.
“I told you to leave him alone—
that it was my fault as much as
his,” she scolded. “Now you’ve
made more trouble.”
“Sorry it came out that way,”
Frank said, in penitent justification.
“He was bragging around how he
jilted you. It came to me from two
different people. One was Ma Pres
nall. I thought I ought to stop it.”
“You did right, son,” his father
approved. “I hope you whopped
him good.”
“He wouldn’t fight—not to amount
to anything,” Frank said simply.
“But I marked him up considerable.
I reckon he made up his mind to
have me rubbed out and took that
killer Morg Norris in with him. They
had two or three others along.”
“Along when?” Bob asked.
“When they ambushed me.”
“You recognized Howard and Nor
ris,” Lee said, his eyes blazing with
excitement.
“No, I didn’t. No time for that.
Jeff Gray warned me they were in
tending to bushwhack me.”
Lee Chiswick’s face was a map of
bewilderment. “Jeff Gray! Why
would he help you?”
“I don’t know. I never did find
out.”
“Then what?” Ruth asked tense
ly.
Frank told his story.
“Son, I ought never to have sent
you to town alone,” exclaimed Lee.
“I knew there were a lot of bad
hombres in that bunch of rustlers,
but I didn’t think they would go so
far as to try to burn a boy to death.
Well, I’ve had my lesson. I might
have known that any outfit bossed
by Sherm Howard would be rotten.
About this fellow Gray. I don’t get
him at all. We no sooner get him
pegged for a double-crossing scoun
drel than he up and goes into the
fire for you. What’s his game? Who
in time is he?”
“Two or three times I heard that
he was an outlaw wanted in Texas
for robbing a train,” Frank said.
“Name of Clint Doke, it was
claimed. He’s in with Howard’s
gang somehow. When we were in
the barn he changed his voice so
they wouldn’t know who he was.”
“He can’t be all bad,” Ruth broke
in, her eyes shining like stars. “I
knew it all the time, only all the
evidence was against him. I don’t
believe he is the man who shot at
Father at Tail Holt. He may be
bad. That is, he may have done
bad things. But he isn’t mean. He
wouldn’t lie about it. He’d come
straight out, with that defiant, mock
ing smile of his.”
“That’s all very well, daughter, - '
Lee assented. “I’ll grant you he
isn’t a villain like that killer Morg
Norris. Fact is, I never could quite
get myself to think so, spite of all
the proof. We sure owe him a lot
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THE STORY
CHAPTER I—Ruth Chiswick of L C
ranch, obsessed by fear of danger to her
outspoken and bullheaded father. Lee, from
a band of lawless rustlers headed by Sherm
Howard, decides to save him by eloping
with young Lou Howard, Sherm's son, and
comes to the town of Tail Holt to meet him.
While in Yell Sanger's store, a crook-nosed
stranger enters, sizes up the situation, and
when a drunken cowboy. Jim Pender, rides
in and starts shooting, protects Ruth, while
Lou Howard hides. Disgusted with Lou’s
cowardice, Ruth calls off the elopement,
and sends the stranger for her father at the
gambling house across the street. There
the stranger, calling himself Jeff Gray,
meets Morgan Norris, a killer, Curly Con
nor, Kansas, Mile High, Sid Hunt, and other
rustlers, and Sherm Howard. Lee Chiswick
enters, with his foreman, Dan Brand, and
tells Sherm Howard of his orders to shoot
rustlers at sieht.
CHAPTER ll—Jeff Gray returns to Ruth
and coldly reassures her of her father's
safety. At supper, Ruth introduces Jeff to
her father and Brand, and in Sanger's store
later she speaks cordially to Curly Connor.
Coming out of the store, they are greeted
by sudden gunplay. Lee is wounded, and
Jeff Gray appears suspiciously with a smok
ing revolver.
CHAPTER lll—Two days later. Ruth tells
her father of her projected elopement and
her disillusionment. Later, separated from
her brothers riding the range. Ruth meets
Jeff Gray, whom she thinks tried to kill her
father. He asks her who fired the first of
the two shots in the affray When he tries
to hold her bridle, Ruth accidentally presses
the trigger of her gun. and wounds Jeff. She
takes him to Pat Sorlev's tamo.
CHAPTER IV—Talking over the shooting
with Sorley, Ruth is credulous of Jeff's
story of shooting at the assassin rather than
at her father, and later pleads with Lee to
listen to him. When Lee arrives at Pat Sor
ley’s camp, he finds only a note to Pat from
Jeff. Meanwhile, Jeff rides into Tail Holt
and sends word to Sherm Howard he wants
to see him. He shows Howard a poster with
his picture, with the name of Clint Doke,
wanted as the leader of a band of outlaws
and robbers. The rest of the band arrives.
CHAPTER V—Jeff shows the outlaws the
poster and asks their confidence, and tells
them Ruth shot him. They agree to allow
him to stay. Another raid on the L C cattle
causes Lee to line up his men in pursuit,
and to send his son Frank to town to recon
noiter. Pat Sorley finds Gray’s horse’s hoof
marks on the trail with the suspected rus
tlers’. Frank, in town, hears news of his fa
ther’s chase, sees Gray examining horses’
hoofs at the hitching post, and has a fight
with Lou Howard.
CHAPTER Vl—Jeff calls on Frank and
warns him Norris and Lou are threatening
him, and tells him of his suspicion that
Morg Norris was the one who shot Lee.
Frank receives a message that his father
wants him at Sanger's, and despite warn
ing, starts out. Shooting starts, and Gray
helps Frank hold off the killers until he and
Frank can escape Gray rejoins the gang,
who think they got Frank.
on account of what he did for Frank.
But very likely he’s that train rob
ber they want in Texas. Must be
some reason he’s hiding here. You
don’t want to get too sympathetic
to him.”
“No, if we get a chance we might
arrest him and send him back to
Texas,” Ruth suggested scornfully.
“There must be a reward for him.”
“Now now! No use getting
highty-tighty, Miss. He can come
and stay at the L C long as he
wants. We’ll do all we can for him,
since we don’t know he is an out
law,” her father said.
“And if we find he is we can kick
him out,” the girl added. “All he
has done is save most of our lives.”
* Her father grinned ruefully.
“You’re sure a gadfly, Missy. You
talk like I was starting right out to
“Now now! No use getting
highty-tighty, Miss.”
hunt this fellow down. No sense in
getting all steamed up about it. If
we get a chance to help him we
will. That’s all I can promise.
Ruth nodded. She knew her fa
ther would pay the family debt if he
were given a chance. For herself,
she felt a great lift of relief at what
her brother had told them.
She desperately wanted to believe
in Jeff Gray, to get assurance at
least that he was not mean and
treacherous. A queer joy flooded
her heart.
Jeff Gray fitted himself easily into
the life of Tail Holt. Frequently he
dropped into the blacksmith shop of
Hank Ransom and listened to tall
stories pf the days when. Hank had
THE SUMMERVILLE NEWS: THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 1938.
campaigned against The Apaches un
der Generals Crook and Miles. He
struck up an acquaintance with the
cobbler, little Ed Godfrey.
He showed no curiosity about
those he met. When they came and
went, where they lived, what their
ostensible occupations were, held no
visible interest for him. He ac
cepted each man for what he gave
himself out to be. The riders drift
ing in and out of Tail Holt no long
er looked at him suspiciously. Curly
Connor liked him, and Curly was a
leader. The only man who seemed
to resent his presence was Morg
Norris, and this was discounted by
the fact that the surly youth was
friendly to few.
Sensitive to atmosphere, Gray de
duced one day that something un
usual was in the air. He saw Nor
ris in momentary furtive talk with
Sherman Howard. The big man was
giving the other instructions. Nor
ris picked up Kansas and took him
out of the Golden Nugget with him.
Mile High came in, sauntered over
to Howard, held a low-voiced con
versation with him, and departed.
Presently Gray announced, with a
yawn, “Tired of poker,” and cashed
in his chips. He strolled down to
the Alamo corral. Sid Hunt and
Kansas were saddling their horses.
One of them tied back of the saddle
a gunnysack containing oats.
“What about that lame sorrel,
Sid?” asked Reynolds. “You be
back tonight?”
“You look after it, Jim," Hunt
said. “Don’t look for us till you see
our dust coming up the road.”
“We got a hen on down Live Oak
canyon way,” Kansas said with a
grin.
Back of the horse Hunt kicked
him on the ankle.
Kansas added a rider to his in
discreet remark: “Or somewh es
else.”
Each of the men had a rifle
strapped beside his saddle.
Gray watched them Fide out of
town. They took the road to the
west, the one Lee Chiswick and his
daughter had followed the night of
their adventure in front of Sanger’s
store. Half an hour later, Norris,
Mile High, and young Howard left
Tail Holt headed in the same direc
tion.
Darkness was falling when Jeff
Gray rode out of town He had
never been in Live Oak canyon, but
he knew from Pat Sorley that it was
on the L C range, not more than
three or four miles southwest of the
line-cabin.
Were th% night riders out to make
a raid on L C cattle? That was pos
sible. But why cross 20 miles of
Chiswick’s range into hill country
when plenty of stock could be picked
up in the Sweet Spring valley with
a much shorter drive to safety?
As he rode through the darkness,
mind focused on the problem, an
other likelihood flashed upon Gray.
Occasionally smugglers from Sono
ra brought silver to Tough Nut to
buy goods for consumption in Mex
ico, thus escaping the Mexican ex
port duty on silver and the import
duty on merchandise. In such illicit
trading there was a fat profit. Be
tween El Paso and Nogales there
was no port of entry. The only
custom-house was a shack on the
San Pedro river at the point where
it runs into the United States. One
of the routes followed by smugglers
wound through Live Oak canyon.
From it the descent to Tough Nut
was by an easy grade.
The longer he thought of it the
more convinced he was that the raid
was against smugglers. A pack
horse had accompanied the Norris
party, probably to carry back the
silver. Moreover, the personnel of
the group pointed to something oth
er than cattle - stealing. Neither
young Howard nor Kansas were top
hands with cows. Why bring them
along and leave an expert like Curly
at home?
From chance remarks Gray had
gathered that Curly was the leader
of the rustler group. But Curly was
no wanton killer.
Gray did not ride straight for the
canyon, but took the road that led
to the L C ranch-house. The Chis
wicks would know much better than
he what to do, since they were fa
miliar with the terrain. If he played
a lone hand he might miss the
smugglers and let them ride on to
destruction.
It was in the small hours when he
reached the ranch. At his approach
to the house a dog barked furiously.
Presently someone opened the front
door and came out on the porch.
A voice demanded, “Who’s
there?”
“Tell Lee Chiswick that Jeff Gray
wants to see him,” the night visitor
answered, at the same time swing
ing from the saddle on the far side
of the horse.
There was a moment of silence.
“What you want with him?” Bob
Chiswick asked.
“I’ll tell him that when I see
him,” Gray said dryly. “You run
along in and tell him I’m here.”
A head was thrust out of an up
per window. “Who is it, Bob?”
“Says he is Jeff Gray, Father”
Bob called up.
“Wait a minute.” The head was
withdrawn.
Five minutes later Lee Chiswick
stepped out on the porch.
Gray told him why he was there.
To his son Lee said, “Light a
lamp in my office, Bob.” To Gray,
“Tie your horse and come in.”
Gray followed the cattleman into
his office and took the chair to which
his host waved him. Lee sat across
the table from him. Young Chis
wick remained standing.
“First off, Mr. Jeff Gray, if that’s
your name, lot’s get it jfiear where
you stand. I’ll ask you to come
clean, sir. Are you one of Sherm
Howard’s scoundrels?”
“Would I be here if I were?”
Gray asked.
Ruth stood in the doorway, her
dark eyes dilated with surprise. She
had flung a wrap over her night
gown and she held it caught close to
her slender, gracious body. Above
the slippers into which her feet had
been thrust there was a glimpse of
white ankle.
“I’m not asking for a Yankee an
swer, sir,” Lee said impatiently.
“I’m not giving you one,” Gray
told him curtly. “I’ve been in the
saddle all night to bring you the tip
off. Take it or leave it.”
“There’s a story in Tail Holt that
you are Clint Doke, the fellow who
robbed the Texas and Southern,”
persisted Lee.
“Not much time for gossip right
now if we aim to head off those
scalawags,” Gray said.
Ruth broke into the talk. “I don’t
believe it. I don’t think Mr. Gray
is a train robber or a rustler, Fa
ther. And I know he isn’t one of
Sherman Howard’s men. Look what
he did for Frank.”
Her father turned in his chair.
“Might have known you’d be butting
♦in,” he scolded, “seeing it’s none of
your, business.”
“I heard voices,” she explained,
“and I came down to see who it
was.”
“Now you know, you can go back
to bed,” Lee told her crustily.
“Not just yet, please.” Gray
smiled blandly. “I’m gaunt as a
pieded steer after a long drive.
Since you’re so sure I’m innocent,
Miss Chiswick, how about a cup of
coffee and some ham and eggs? I’ll
have just time for them before we
start if you move lively.”
“Start where?” she asked.
The red - headed man waved a
hand debonairly at his host. “Ask
Mr. Chiswick. I wouldn’t know
where.”
Lee said: “Go ahead, girx. Fix
him up some food.” He added to
his son: “Rout Frank and Dan
Brand and Buck- Conrad out of their
i beds. See they get horses saddled.”
Before she left to make breakfast,
Ruth flung a question at Gray.
“You are innocent, aren’t you?”
“I never blocked a brand or ran
one over. I never bought or sold a
wet horse.”
“Did you hear me tell you to
rustle some grub, Ruth?” her fa
ther asked harshly. Better fix
breakfast for all of us.' No telling
when we’ll eat again.’
Ruth vanished. Presently the>
could hear the rattling of stove-lids
and the crackling of wood.
“I don’t know how to take yuu,
Lee complained. “You certainly
came through for Frank when he
needed a friend. You claim you’re
not one of Howard’s thieves, but
you were with them when they ran
that bunch of L C stuff up Box can
yon. Pat Sorley checked up on your
horse’s hoofs.”
“He didn’t check up well enough.
I went up the gulch after the
thieves, not with them. They passed
close to the line-camp in the night.
I heard them and went out to see
who they were. Pat hadn’t been
feeling well the night before, so I
didn’t wake him, but followed the
rustlers alone.”
“You’re a detective for the Cat
tlemen’s association. That what you
mean?”
“You can do yore own guessing.
Right now I’m giving no informa
tion.”
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK
Guides, Professional Class
The guides, or dragomen, of Cairo
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Home city of the guides is Giza, a
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Has Three Concentric Walled Wards
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