PAGE SIX
HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, DEC. 6, 1928.
lUuslrjledhyVetveCChrhfy
WHAT HAPPENED BXFOBE
Buck Duane, quick on the draw, killi
Cal Bain in self-defense and finds him-1
self an outlaw. Flying from pursuit
he meets Luke Stevens, another outlaw,
and the two become pais. Luke nar
rowly escapes capture and Duane is
shocked to find his brother outlaw se
verely wounded.
Duane buries Stevens. Then he goes
on to Bland's camp, where he gets Into
a fight with a man called Bosomer and
wounds the latter. He makes a friend
of an outlaw at Bland's called Euchre
who tells him of Mrs. Bland and the
girt Jennie.
Duane meets, Jennie and promises to
try his utmost to get her away from
Bland's camp. To avert suspicion, it is
. planned that he pretend to care for Mrs.
Bland. Euchre introduces him to the
latter and he engages in conversation
with ber.
Buck plays the game, making Mrs.
Bland think he loves her. To avert sus
picion, Mrs. Bland pretends to her hus
band that Buck has come to visit Jen
nie. Bland urges Buck to become a reg
ular member of his outlaw gang.
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY:
Accounting for the short cut
across grove and filed, it was about
Ave minutes' walk up to Bland's
house. To Duane it seemed long
in time and distance, and he had
difficulty in restraining his pace.
As he walked there came a grad
ual and subtle change in his feel
ings. Again he was going out to
meet in conflict He could have
avoided this meeting. But despite
the fact of his courting the encoun
ter, he had not as yet felt that hot,
inexplicable expulsion of blood. The
motive of this deadly action was not
personal, and somehow that made
a difference.
No outlaws were in sight He saw
several Mexican herders with cat
tle. Blue columns of smoke curled
up over some of the cabins. The
fragrant smell of it reminded Du
ane of his home that he used to
cut the wood for the Btove. He
noted a cloud of creamy mist ris
ing above the river, dissolving in
the sunlight
Then he entered Bland's lane.
While yet some distance from the
cabin he heard loud, angry voices
of man and woman. Bland and
Kate still quarreling! He took a
quick survey of the surroundings.
There was now not even a Mexican
in sight Then he hurried a little.
Half-way down the lane he turn
ed his head to peer through the
cottonwoodsT This time he saw
Euchre coming with the horses.
There was no indication that the
old outlaw might lose his nerve at
the end. Duane had feared this.
Duane now changed his walk to a
leisurely saunter. He reached the
porch and then distinguished what
was said inside the cabin.
"If you do Bland, by Heaven, I'll
fix you and her!" That was panted
out in Kate Bland's full voice.
"Let me loose! I'm going in
there, 1 tell you!" replied Bland
hoarsely.
"What for?"
"I want to make a little love to
her. Ha-ha! It'll be fun to have the
laugh on her new lover."
"You lie!" cried Kate Bland.
"Let me go!" His voice grew
hoarse with passion.
"No, no! I wont let you go! You
'll choke the truth out of her! You
'll kill her."
"The truth!" gritted Bland.
"Yes. I lied. Jen lied. But she
lied to save you. You needn't
murder her for that"
Biand cursed horribly. Then fol
lowed a wrestling sound of bodies
in violent straining contact the
scrape of feet the jangle of spurs
a crash of sliding table or chair.
and then the cry of a woman in
pain.
Duane stepped into the open door
inside the room. Kate Bland lay
naif across a table, where she had
been flung, and she was trying to
get to her feet Bland's back was
turned. He had opened the door
into Jennie's room and had one
foot across the threshold. Duane
caught the girl's low, shuddering
cry.
"Good morning!" he called, loud
and clear.
With catlike swiftness Bland
wheeled then froze on the thresh
old. His sight, quick as his action,
caught Duane's menacing, unmis
takable position.
Bland's big frame filled the door.
he was in a bad place to reach for
his gun. But he would not have
time to step. Duane read in his
eyes the desperate calculation of
chances. For a fleeting instant
Jland shifted his gaze to his wife.
Then his whole body seemed to vi
brate with the swing of his arm.
Duane shot him. He fell forward.
his gun exploding as it dug into the
floor, and it dropped loose from
stretching fingers. Duane stood OV'
er him, stooped to turn him on his
back. Bland looked up with cloud
ed gaze, then gasped his last
'Duane, you've killed him!" cried
Kate Bland huskily. "I knew you'd
nave to.
bhe staggered against the wall,
her eyes dilated, her strong hands
clenching, her face half stunned.
but showed no grief.
. "Jennie!" called Duane sharply.
"Oh is it you Duane?" came
halting reply.
"Yes. Come out Hurry!"
She came out with uneven steps,
seeing only him, and she stumbled
over Bland's body. Duane caught
ber arm, swung ber around behind
him. Ho feared the woman when
she realized how she had been
duped. His action was protective,
and his movement toward the door
equally significant
"Duane!" cried Mrs. Bland.
It was no time for talk. Duane
edged on, keeping Jennie behind
him. At that moment there was
pounding of iron-shod hoofs out in
the lane. Kate Bland bounded to
the door. When she turned back her
amaze was changing to realization.
Where're you taking Jen?" she
cried, her voice like a man's.
Get out of my way!" replied Du
ane. JHis look, pernaps, without
ipeech, was enough for her. In an
instant she was transformed into a
fury.
"You hound! AU the time you
ere fooling me. You made love to
me! You let me believe you swore
you loved me! Now I see what was
queer about you! All for that slut!
But you can't have her. You'll nev
er leave here alive! Give me that
girl! Let me get at her! She'll
never win any more men in this
camp!
She was a heavy, powerful wo
man, and it took all Duane s
trength to ward off her onslaughts.
She clawed at Jennie over his up
held arm. Every second her fury
increased.
"Help! Help! Help!" she shriek
ed in a voice that must have pene
trated to the remotest cabin in the
valley.
Let go! Let go! cried Duane,
low and sharp. He still held his
gun in his right hand, and it began
to be hard for him to ward the wo
man off. His coolness had gone
with her shriek for help. "Let go!"
he repeated, and he shoved her
fiercely.
Suddenly she snatched a rifle off
the wall and backed away, her
strong hands fumbling at the lever.
As she jerked it down, throwing a
shell into the chamber and cocking
the weapon, Duane leaped upon her.
He struck up the rifle as it went
off, the powder burning his face.
Jennie, run out! Get on a horse!"
he said, still low and sharp.
Jennie flashed out of the door.
With an iron grasp Duane held
to the rifle-barrel. He had grasped
it with his left hand, and he gave
such a powerful pull that he swung
the woman off the floor. But he
could not loose her grip. She was
as strong as he.
"Kate! Let go!"
He tried to intimidate her. She
did not see his gun thrust in her
face, or reason had given way to
such an extent of passion that she
did not care. She cursed. Her hus
band had used the same curses,
and from her lips they seemed
strange, unsexed, more deadly.
Like a tigress she fought him.
Her face no longer resembled a wo
man's. The evil of that outlaw life,
the wildness and rage, the meaning
to kill, was, even in such a moment,
terribly impressed upon Duane.
He heard a cry from outside a
man s cry, hoarse and alarming.
It made him think of loss of time.
This demon of a woman might yet
block his plans.
"Let go!" he whispered and felt
his stiff lips. In the grminess of
that instant he relaxed his hold
on the rifle-barrel.
With a sudden, redoubled, irre
sistible strength, she wrenched the
rifle down and discharged it Du
ane felt a blow a shock then a
burning agony tear through his
breast. He staggered backward,
almost falling. The woman's strong
hands, awkward from passion,
again fumbled at the lever of the
gun.
He caught the rifle-barrel again,
this time in his right hand, and
pulled. She tripped over a chair
and crashed down.
Duane leaped back, whirled, flew
out of the door to the porch. The
sharp cracking of a gun halted him.
He saw Jennie holding the bridle
of his bay horse.
Euchre sat astride the other and
he had a Colt leveled, and he was
firing down the lane. Then came
a single shot, heavier, and Euchre's
ceased. He fell from the horse.
A swiftly shifted gaze showed to
Duane a man coming down the lane.
Chess Alloway! His gun was
smoking. He broke into a run.
Then, in an instant he saw Duane,
tried to check his pace as he swung
up his arm. But that slight pause
was fatal.
Duane shot, and Alloway was fall
ing when his gun went off. His
bullet whistled close to Duane and
thudded into the cabin.
Duane bounded down to the
horses. Jennie was trying to hold
the plunging bay. Euchre lay flat
on his back, dead, a bullet-hole in
his shirt, his face set hard, and his
hands twisted around gun and bridle.
"Jennie, you've nerve all right,"
cried Duane as he dragged down the
horse she was holding. "Up with
you now. There! IN ever mind long
stirrups! Hang up somehow!
He caught his bridle out of Eu
chre's clutching grip and leaped
astride. The frightened horses
jumped Into a run and thundered
down the lane into the road. Duane
saw men running from cabins. He
heard shouts. But there were no
shots fired.
Jennie seemed able to stay on her
horse; but without stirrups she
bounced so hard that Duane rode
closer and reached out to grasp her
arm.
Thus they rode through the valley
to the trail that led up over the
steep and broken Rim-Rock. As
they began to climb Duane looked
back. No pursuers were in sight
Jennie, we're going to get away!"
he cried, exultation for her in his
voice.
She was gazing, horror-stricken,
at his breast as, in turning to look
back, he faced her.
"Oh, Duane, your shirt's all
bloody!" she faltered, pointing with
trembling finger.
With her words Duane became
aware of two things the hand he
instinctively placed to his breast
still held his gun and he had sus
tained a terrible wound.
He had been shot through the
breast far enough down to give him
grave apprehension for his life. Lit
tle pain attended the injury, and no
sense of weakness yet. The clean-
cut bullet-hole bled freely both at
its entrnace and where it had come
out, but with no signs of hemor
rhage. He did not bleed at the
mouth; however, he began to cough
up a reddish tinged foam.
Jennie, with pale face and mute
lips looked at him.
"I'm badly hurt, Jennie," he said;
"but I guess I'll stick it out."
"The woman did she shoot you?"
"Yes. She was a devil. Euchre
told me to look out for her. I was
n't quick enough."
"You didn't have to to " shiv
ered the girl.
"My God, no!" he replied.
They did not stop climbing while
Duane tore a scarf and made com
presses, which he bound tightly ov
er his wounds. The fresh horses
made fast time up the rough trail
From open places Duane - looked
down.
When they surmounted the steep
ascent and stood on top of the Rim-
rock, with no signs of pursuit down
in the valley, and with the wild,
broken fastnesses before them. Du
ane turned to the girl and assured
her that they now had every chance
of escape.
Jennie, you're going to get away,"
he said with baldness. "I'll be well
in a few days. You don't know how
strong I am. . We'll hide by day and
travel by night I can get you across
the river."
"And then?" she asked.
"We'll find some honest rancher."
"And then?" she persisted.
"Why" he began slowly. "That's
as far as my thought ever got It
was pretty hard, I tell you, to as
sure myself of so much. It means
your safety. You'll tell your story.
You'll be sent to some village or
town and taken care of until a rela
tive or friend is notified."
And you?" she inquired In a
strange voice.
Duane kept silence.
"What will you do?" she went on.
"Jennie .I'll go back to the brakes,
daren't show my face among re
spectable people. I'm an outlaw."
You re no criminal!" she declar
ed with deep passion.
"Jennie on this border the little
difference between an outlaw and a
criminal doesn't count for much."
"You won't go back among those
terrible men? You, with your gen
tleness and sweetness all that's
good about you! Oh, Duane, don't,
don't go!"
'I can't go back to the outlaws,
at least Bland's band. No, I'll go
alone. I'll lone wolf it, as they say
on the border. What else can I do,
Jennie?"
"Oh, I don't know. Couldn't you
hide? Couldn't you slip out of
Texas go far away?"
"I could never get out of Texas
without being arrested. I could
hide, but a man must live. Never
mind about me, Jennie."
"Duane, if ever I'm safe out of
this awful country," she cried, "I'll
go to the governor. I'll tell him
your story. I'll tell him mine. I'll
get you pardoned."
As he looked down upon her, a
slight slender girl with bedraggled
dress and disheveled hair, her face
pale and quiet, a little stern in sleep,
and her long, dark lashes lying on
her cheeks, he seemed to see her
fragility, her prettiness, her femin
inity as never before. But for him
she might at that very moment have
been a broken, ruined girl, lying
back in that cabin of the Blands.
Tomorrow she would be gone,
among good, kind people, with a
possibility of finding her relatives.
He thanked God for that; neverthe
less he felt a pang.
She slept more than half the day.
Duane kept guard, always alert,
whether he was sitting, standing, or
walking. The rain pattered steadily
on the roof and sometimes came in
gusty flurries through the door.
The horses were outside in a shed
that afforded poor shelter, and they
stamped restlessly. Duane kept
them saddled and Driuiea.
(Continued Next Week.)
GETS SEVEN YEARS.
Fritz Rader was sentenced here
on Wednesday by Circuit Judge
Woods to serve a term of seven
years in the Oregon state peniten
tiary. He was indicted for stealing
horses and tried before a jury and
found guilty. The case against Pad-
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