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.
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