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About The Hermiston herald. (Hermiston, Or.) 19??-1984 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 13, 1936)
THURSDAY. AUGUST 13. 1936 THE HERMISTON HERALD, HERMISTON, OREGON. GUNLOCK RANCH SYNOPSIS by Frank H. Spearman Copyright Frank H. Spearman WNU Service Sleepy Cat, desert town of the South west, is celebrating the Fourth of July. Jane Van Tambel, beautiful daughter of Gus Van Tambel, hated owner of Gunlock ranch, has arrived from the East for the first time. She watches the Frontier Day celebration In company with Dr. Carpy, crusty, tender-hearted friend of the community. Henry Sawdy of the Circle 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 bets on him with Harry Boland, saloonkeeper and erony of McCrossen. Unknown to the crowd, Denison Is a champion horse- man. McCrossen and the young stranger tie In the various events. They are then asked to propose their own stunts. McCrossen winning the toss, picks up a handkerchief from the ground riding full speed, facing backward. Denison easily follows suit. CHAPTER I—Continued It was now the Texan’s turn. Snwdy ran out on the track to his side. "Give him the saddle-and-bridle trick," he whispered. The wrangler, still breathing fast, de- murred. “He’s seen it done. Probably he can do it himself, Sawdy." “No matter. It’ll make a hit, tire him out." 1 “I'm getting tired of this show my: self. It's been pretty long," objected the rider. "Leave it to me, will you? I’ll give him one he's never seen—one you’ve never seen." There was a fur ther whispered conference. “Go to it!” exclaimed Sawdy, after a moment, seemingly confident of his representative. Then he turned to the little grandstand. “Ladles ’n’ gentlemen an’ honorable judges," he began. "Circle Dot has tried to contribute In a humble way to your entertainment this afternoon. You're all anxious to see this contest, grand as It has been, brought to a de cision. Our entry for the prize will now present a feat never before seen In Sleepy Cat." Reining to the middle of the track, the wrangler drew from a buttoned breast pocket of his Jersey a packet of cigarette papers and a small sack of tobacco. Seated on his pawing horse, he rolled his cigarette, put awny the makings, hung the cigarette on his lip, and lifted his hat as he looked up at the spectators and felt in another pocket for a match. While doing so he awkwardly dropped the cigarette; it fell from Ills lip to the dusty track. He bent over in the saddle to look regret fully down at the cigarette where It lay ; then turned his horse and slowly circled the offending object as he care fully scrutinized the lie. Sawdy stepped to the side of the grandstand and, after his usual saluta tion, began, hat in hand: “Our Circle Dot wrangler seems to be a little awk ward today—nervous, maybe. You see, ladies, he hasn't had such a bevy of elegant women to look at for many, many weeks. We’ve been on a long, hard drive an’ haven’t seen so much as a picture of a smart girl for nigh three months—no wonder lie's nervous.” "Hear! Hear!" cried Carpy and his group. Sawdy, surprised, looked up. "Where?" he demanded. And getting only n laugh, continued: "Whatever the reason, Indies nn' gents, the boy has dropped his ciga- rette. He's makin’ motions to me to pick It up. Hut It's too much to ask of a fat man. Let him pick up the cigarette himself. Go, boy, go!” As the wrangler cantered leisurely down the track, Sawdy, as spieler, con tinued to explain: "He will now try ridin’ at top speed, to pick up Ills cigarette. If he suc ceeds, I am sure you will all be willin’ to see him enjoy smokin' It, after a hard hour's work. If he falls under these speed conditions, lie will retire as gracefully as possible from the track an' turn a similar Job over to his esteemed rival. Our wrangler will use the quirt on his pony for the first time today. All we'll ask is. Just piense give the boy quiet when he rides up.” The wrnngler had wheeled his horse fifty yards down the track und sat waiting for Sawdy’s signal. The cowman raised a wnrnlng hand. "Are you ready?” The wrnngler nod ded. "Go!” shouted Snwdy. Quirting his pony smartly and bend ing In the saddle ns the wiry little gelding sprang in long leaps ahend, the wrangler, nearing the stnnd. swung over to the right so low in the saddle that lie trailed his hand in the dust. He was going very fast, nnd his Job In this straining posture was to locate a narrow smudge of brown paper lying in yellow dust. CHAPTER II In the grandstand there was a cran ing of necks, a straining of eyes, and a hush. Only the soft clatter of the pony’s hoofs as he now flew down toward the grandstand struck the ear. A slender streak of dust rose from where the fin gers trailed along the track. As he neared the vicinity of the cigarette, the wrangler lifted his fingers Just above the dust and bent his straining eyes ahead. He passed the grandstand like a flash. As he did so, his right hand was flung out, just once, and his tingere struck at the dust. He dashed ahead, straightened himself gradually In the saddle, and, holding his right hand high, checked the pony and rode slowly back. The Judges clambered down from their stand and ran out on the track. They looked in vain circles for a trace of the cigarette; stirred up the dust where it might be hidden. But the wrangler, riding hack toward them, held the damaged cigarette between the thumb and the forefinger of his right hand. Boland was wild. He rushed out to Join the Judges. "It's a plain trick !” he shouted. “He pretended to pick up one cigarette an’ had another in his hand.” “Hell!” blurted out Bill Pardaloe. “Where’s the cigarette he dropped here In the first place?” he asked, pointing to the track. "It was right here. I seen it.” He appealed to the other Judges, “You seen it.” The two nodded assent. "What you talkin’ about, Bo?” Boland was industriously searching the track. "Find It! But be damned care ful you don’t try to drop another ciga rette like It ! Watch him, John,” warned Pardaloe, wrought up. “The horse might have picked It up on his hoof,” bellowed Boland. "Yes," commented Seiwood. "Yes. Examine the pony's mouth, too, Boland. He may not have swallowed it yet. I say, gen tlemen,” he added, "the Circle Dot boy has done a clean job. Now let’s see McCrossen perform.” But McCrossen, stubbornly rejecting all his backers' entreaties, refused to perform. “Wouldn't I be a sucker to try to beat a man at bls own game?” he demanded. “That trick’s no part of frontier tidin’. It's never been done before at a Sleepy Cat celebration.” “It's progress, gentlemen; progrese, I call it. If it ain't been done In Sleepy Cat, it's been done plenty at other cel ebrations. So you,” thundered Sawdy, "want a brilliant crowd of fair women and brave men to set here year after year an’ be bored stiff with the same old tricks? Gents!” he appealed to the judges, "I call for Judgment.” The Judges huddled. At a little dis tance Sawdy nnd Lefever huddled with the wrangler on the gelding. Present ly Lefever stepped over to the judges. "Gents," he announced, “before you de Again the Pony Took the Quirt. Vexed, but unwilling to Ignore the growing clamor of the spectators, Jane rose reluctantly, passed the slender gold band over her wrist, and, pausing for an awkward feminine throw, flung it out ungraciously on the track. The crowd applauded. Jane blushed. The bracelet fell close to the grand stand side of the track. Sawdy thought too close, but the wrangler, riding over, nodded that he could make it. The wrangler wheeled his horse, and cantered down the track. Wheeling again, he patted his pony's neck and headed up toward the grandstand. Again the pony took the quirt, leaped ahead, and, with the onlookers mostly standing to see and holding their breath, the wrangler dashed for the bracelet. Once more he swung over to the right of his saddle till he could trail his hand easily along In the dust of the track. With eyes straining and every nerve taut, the wrangler, sighting the shining object, struck for it At the same Instant, out of perfect silence a sudden vicious yell rang from some where about the grandstand. The pony, startled, sprang straight sidewise, throwing his rider head first into the dust, and bolted across the track, drag ging the wrangler, caught by one foot in the stirrup. A murmur rose, breaking into cries of anger and shame. Every eye was fixed on the dragging rider. The pony headed for the inside guard rail of the track fence. Half a dozen Circle Dot riders now shot after him. If the panic-stricken horse should leap the fence, he would dash the wrangler against it, probably to death. But while the panicky specta tors stared, speechless, the wrangler, dragged along at breakneck speed, shook loose his foot and, rolling with the momentum over and over on the track, sprang to his feet, covered with dust. The bolting pony cleared the fence and dashed across the field. The angry wrangler steadied himself after a step or two, his eyes roving over the faces before him, striving to catch his breath. With his quirt still hanging from his wrist, his hair rum- pled and his bronzed features dust- smeared, his shirt torn halt off his back, and breathing hard and fast, he stood eyeing the crowd and raised his voice in a loud and clear drawl: “If the calf that just bellowed for milk isn’t too much of a coward to walk down here, I’ll agree to bottle- feed him with a quirt.” There were a few applauding laughs, many murmurs, and a general feeling of uneasiness among the spectators. Suddenly from the midst of a riot of men talking at the end of the grand stand near Jane came a clash of angry voices. The next Instant a bald-headed man with keen gray eyes and a dyed mustache, scattering onlookers right and left, pushed his way out of the gathering crowd and, stretching out his arm, yelled at the three Circle Dot cow- men standing on the track beside the contrite pony. "Look-a-here, Texas!” yelled the bald head, beckoning. “Come here, you ! You too, Lefever ! Quick !” "It's Jake Spotts,” said the excited Sawdy. “Come on, boys!” With Le fever, and followed by the wrangler, Sawdy hurried to the irate barber’s side. “There’s the skunk that yelled," cried Spotts, almost beside himself as he pushed the wrangler forward, and pointed, "That yellow-faced skunk right there, Barney Rebstock!” The grandstand emptied as If a cy clone had struck it. “You’re a liar,” shouted the man ac cused, a slender, shrill-voiced, sharp faced ranch hand. “I never did it” A long-haired, mild voiced Indian standing near him spoke up: "Yes, you did. I stood right behind you. I heard you !” Jane was sitting so close to the al tercation she could have touched the nearest man. She rose in alarm. Dr. Carpy pushed her to his other side. She heard Sawdy thunder, "No more lyin’, Barney ! There's two witnesses.” That was almost all she could re member. There were a few more sharp words. Then the dusty wrangler, short ening his quirt, sprang at Rebstock, knocked off his hat with one hand, and with the other brought the heavy han dle down savagely on Rebstock’s fore- head. Jane saw the red follow the blow like the cut of a knife. There was Instant uproar. McCros sen sprang forward to defend Reb- stock. He was too late. His hand slipped to his gun holster. Carpy, Jumping up, stood almost over the brawlers. "Hold on, there ! Hold on !” he thundered. “The first man that draws a gun here. I’ll run out of Sleepy Cat!" Dr. Carpy was the only man In Sleepy Cat who could have done it. But his word was the last word in Sleepy Cat. No one cared to face his wrath. He turned to Jane. “Don’t be frightened, girl. It’s all over.” Cheers greeted the wrangler as he walked back with his cronies to where the contrite pony stood on the track. Although his attire was in much dis array, his manner put his hearers per fectly at ease. "I know," he said to those who had returned to the grand stand, and patting his mount, “that this generally well behaved little Texas pony Is as much ashamed of his con- | duct as I am. and I know he would like to apologize, if you’ll give him a chance." cide, we make another proposal. Our man will now undertake to duplicate any trick on a horse that the Gunlock champion wants to try. We want to be perfectly fair." “You mean,” retorted Seiwood, “you're mean enough to lient the boots off him nn’ carry nwny the boots. Well, Boland,” he called out, turning to the saloon keeper, "you heard Hint. Do you want to tnke that challenge?” "McCrossen has done all the tricks nnd done ’em well.” "If you decline,” declared Seiwood, “judgment for the fancy ridin’ goes to Circle Dot. It Is so ordered. Stop your yawp, Harry Boland.” Boland continued to protest, but the verdict, announced to the spectators, met with wild approval. They declined to let the wrangler go. They swarmed out on the track and refused to let him ride away. He was assailed with cries. “Do It again! . . . Once more! . . . Again!" Sawdy, after a conference with the favorite, made a stentorian announce- ment : “If you'll all get off the track nnd shut up." he began, “our lad will give you one more exhibition." When the track was cleared and the men were again seated, the portly spieler continued : "To show there was no trick In the cigarette ride, nnd to show there's no collusion. I'll ask any lady in the audience to throw any lit tle personal ornament of wear out on the track. Now hold on." He held up his hand In warning as several women began to search for something to throw out. “The object must be not too small to grasp. ... A ring? Doubtful. , . . A hatpin? No. for God's sake, nothin' sharp. Hold still. That young lady next to Dr. Carpy"—he pointed—"Isn't that a small bracelet I see on her left arm? Just the thing. Lady, if you'd lend us that bracelet for a minute, we'll show you some ridin’.” Sawdy was addressing Jane Van Tambel. (TO BE CO^TIM ED) "Oh. 1 won’t do It I” exclaimed Jane. Sawdy looked pained, but kept his eye fixed on the bracelet. “Go ahead, Do Your Owa Thinking girl, throw it out !" suggested Carpy. He who thinks for himself is among "Never! The pony might step on those who are solving the world's problems. it!” protested Jane. /lousehoM • Chic Frock Slenderizes There is nothing smarter for cool summer wear than silk lin en, novelty crepe, dotted swiss, or printed silks, especially when fashioned into a slim and trim model like this stunning design. Who isn’t excited about the new wider shoulder width that tends • Question/ 1889-B is available for sizes: 14, 16, 18, 20; 40 and 42. Size 16 requires 4 1-8 yards of 39-inch material. Send 15 cents in coins. Send for the Summer Pattern Book containing 100 Barbara Bell well-planned, easy-to-make pat terns. 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