THURSDAY, AUGUST 20, 1936
THE HERMISTON HERALD HERMISTON, OREGON.
GUNLOCK
■RANCH*
by
FRANK H. SPEARMAN
Copyright Frank H Spearman
WNU Service
SYNOPSIS
Sleepy Cat, desert town of the South
west, is celebrating the Fourth of July.
Jane Van Tam bel, beautiful daughter
of G ub 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.
Unknown to the crowd, Denison is
a champion horseman McCrossen and
the young stranger tie in the various
events. McCrossen picks up a hand
kerchief from the ground riding full
speed, facing backward. Denison eas
ily follows suit. Denison then drops a
cigarette carelessly. Racing down the
track full tilt, he picks up the ciga
rette.
The verdict goes to Denison
when McCrossen refuses to attempt the
stunt. Entreated by the crowd, Deni
son agrees to perform another trick.
Jane Van Tambel is asked for her
bracelet and throws it on the track.
Just as Denison rides to pick it up a
yell from Barney Rebstock, a Mc
Crossen henchman, scares the pony,
nearly costing the rider his life.
Gun play is prevented by the inter
vention of Dr. Carpy.
CHAPTER II—Continued
He had the crowd with him. While
they cheered, the wrangler remounted,
cantered leisurely up the track and
down, and brought the gelding to a
halt In front of Dr. Carpy and Jane
Vnn Tambel. Patting the pony affec
tionately on the neck with his left
hand, and speaking softly, the wrangler
tapped the little fellow with his dou
bled quirt on the right shoulder.
The pony pawed the dust In protest
but gradually crooked his right fore
leg, then his left, and knelt In apology
to the grandstand. The crowd gave
him loud applause.
Meantime, throwing his Unes, the
wrangler stepped off the pony, laid his
hand on the guard rails of the grand
stand track-fence, cleared It, and, pick
ing bls way among the spectators up
to where Carpy sat, stopped before
Jane.
He wns covered with dust and sweat.
Jane started. She saw a pair of keen
brown eyes Inspecting her from behind
long dusty lashes. She saw a familiar
object in his right hand, as he held it
out to her and heard his low words :
"Lady, your bracelet!"
“Oh!" exclaimed Jane completely
surprised. "Th-thank you !"
"It's the other way round, piense,"
retorted the wrangler. “I want to thank
you. Sorry,” he stammered, “for the
disturbance.”
He tried to fade away among his
boisterous following of uproarious Cir
cle Dot men. But not everyone was
disposed to let him escape easily.
Harry Tenison, who paid the stake
money over to Sawdy nt the Circle Dot
quarters. Insisted on meeting the Tex
an. He wns dragged, reluctant, out of
the sleeping tent and shook hands
slowly with the Medicine Bend sport
magnate.
"Where did you pick up that ciga
rette trick?” demanded Tenison. “I
never saw it done but once. That was
at Madison Square Garden."
“How long ago? asked the wrangler.
“Two years ago last winter."
"It was done there that winter, I
understand,” said the Texan evenly.
"Of course, It was under artificial light,
so they had to use white paper.”
“You been in New York, then?”
“Once or twice, sir.”
"You’ve seen it done, then?”
“I have. sir. And I'm mighty glad I
met you," drawled the Texan, cutting
the Interview short He was not un
gracious, but was somewhat fatigued.
"The boy can ride." said Tenison, re
joining Sawdy. “I told hlm I saw that
cigarette act done In Madison Square
Garden, two years ago. He said he saw
It at the same time. I guess that's
where he picked It up.”
"Picked what up, the cigarette?"
"The act. He said they used a white
paper cigarette there on account of the
artificial light—so he must have seen It.’’
"Who's they?” asked Sawdy bluntly.
“I suppose he meant the rider."
”1 wonder If he meant himself. Why,
Harry, he's the man that introduced
that act at the Garden, two years ago
last winter."
CHAPTER III
Two years later, back on her old fa-
thers ranch after two years In Chi
cago, Jane was riding the possessions
one day to be hers. Wandering on her
pony far In the Gunlock hills, she had
lost her way toward the close of the
day and had stopped to ask directions
from a man standing at the door of a
poor-looking cabin.
•Why, Isn't this Gunlock Ranch?"
"Not yet." The man answered the
question firmly, Jane thought.
“When I left the house this morn-
ing,” she said Indignantly, "they told
me I could ride all day without getting
off Gunlock Ranch. I must have ridden
about a hundred miles. What did you
mean by saying, 'not yet’? she asked
suspiciously.
Bill Denison, before whose door she
had halted, looked at Jane with curi
osity. “Oh, nothing special,” he said
casually. “Only, that old man Van
Tambel has stolen everything in the
hills except this ranch. I hear he's
pretty sick now—down at the Medicine
Bend hospital—but who can tell that
he won't show up some fine night and
steal this place while I'm asleep?"
At this outburst Jane first stopped
breathing—then she breathed furious
ly. Her features hardened. “Why, how
outrageous!” she exclaimed. "You
ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
The young man held his ground. "Let
me ask a question. Are you any kin.
of old man Van Tambel's?" he asked
composedly.
“I don't care to discuss that ques
tion with you,” was her defiant reply.
"I admit, if you are, I was kind of
rough, speaking as I did,” he went on.
“I didn't know he had any.relations. I
worked for him a year once, and I
never heard him tell of any. So I
guess I have to apologize.”
“I should think you would apolo
gize,” declared Jane, scandalized.
“But," he countered, and the “but”
was emphatic, "to tell you the truth,
lady, I can't take everything back. You
living over at the ranch?” he asked.
“I live in Chicago.” She bit off the
words as If they were tenpenny nails.
“And you’re lost?”
“If I were not, I shouldn’t be here.”
“Now no matter how you and I may
differ on some subjects,” he said, "I’ll
start you on your way home, provid
ing you want me to. In fact, I’ll do It
anyway.”
“Will you wait a minute while I sad
dle up?"
“I won’t wait a second. I’ll find my
own way." So saying, Jane Jerked her
horse around.
"Well, I like yonr spunk, anyway,”
Denison called out to her, "and I'll
catch you in a couple of minutes,
whether you like It or not.”
"You can stay right where you are,"
she shot back. “I don’t want you near
me, anyhow."
As she rode away, Jane heard In an
Incredibly short time the clatter of
hoofs beside her. She bristled Inside.
“What are you chasing me for?” she
demanded as Denison rode up and
halted, with a Jerk, at her side.
"I was afraid you'd fall off your
horse,” he retorted dryly. "Now skip
the hard words,” he countered easily
as Jane angrily objected to his taunt
and to his company. “You know you're
"You Must Have Been Trying Not
to Find Me," Said Jane Coldly.
used up; you don't know how to ride.
You've used up your horse, and you
don't know the country, and I've got
to get you home, so turn around and
follow me—do you know where you're
heading for?”
She was too exasperated to speak.
“You're headed for the desert, and
that's a poor place for a stranger to
sleep In, night or day."
The fell warning checked Jane. She
had heard stories about that awful des
ert ; she had been warned to keep away
from It. A revulsion of feeling swept
over her. She was tired, tired enough
to drop off her horse. Oppressed by a
sense of loneliness, helplessness, and
resentment at being ridiculed by a dis
agreeable stranger, her eyes filled with
angry tears. She began to cry as she
turned her horse's head to follow him.
“Hold on," he said kindly, "hold on.
Nothing to cry about, not a thing.
You're as safe as if you were In your
bed at the ranch. I guess I'm pretty
rough spoken ; but my bark's worse’n
my bite. So you're from Chicago?"
“Y es.”
"That’s quite a burg, I understand."
"How far have we got to go to get
home?"
“Considerable ways. If we could go
as the crow files, Il wouldn’t be so far.
How long have you been out here?"
"Six weeks."
He was too polite to comment,
though he had hardly need to ask the
question—Jane was so evidently a ten
derfoot.
"What's your name?" she asked tn
turn.
"Bill Denison."
"How long have you lived here?"
"Here and In the Panhandle most of
my life."
“And how many years Is that?"
“Nigh onto thirty years, 1 figure it
to be."
"What are you so sore for on every
body at Gunlock ranch?"
Could Jane have seen the expression
of amazed despair on Denison’s face,
she would have felt she had reverted to
an impossible subject
“Lady,” retorted her companion, “If I
told you, you wouldn’t believe it But I
don't say I'm sore at everybody. And
I'm not sore at you. I'm glad there’s
one decent person now at Gunlock—”
Jane bridled again. “One decent per
son! I like that!”
“Hang It, I didn't mean to make an
other break. Please excuse, and I’ll
hog-tie my troublesome tongue."
“Is It very much farther?" asked
Jane, alarmed now by approaching
darkness.
“Not a whole lot. But maybe you’d
better mount off and rest a little If
you need to. It’s rough going from here
on, for I’m trying to take a short cut.”
"You're not lost, are you?” she de
manded suspiciously.
"Not yet”
“But you might get lost?”
"Not tonight. And If you’ll stick to
the saddle a little ways farther, you
can have a drink at a spring to fresh
en you up."
“How can yon find It?”
“If you’d drunk from It as many
times as I have, you could find it In a
sandstorm, blindfolded—so could these
horses, either of ’em.”
The two were silent for a while.
Presently Denison checked his horse.
“Here's your spring, lady. Are you
thirsty ?”
“Choked. If you hadn’t been so mean,
I’d have asked you for a drink at your
house—if it is your house.”
“It's mine so far, but there's a hang-
over lawsuit of Van Tambel's on it
Can you get down, lady?”
“I don't know whether I can or not.
I've been In this saddle so long."
Her companion eased her to the
ground. Jane refused to drink without
a cup till be told her to cup her hands.
Then she would not drink until she
could see there were no snakes in the
water.
“Nothing gets Into that water; it
would freeze a snake to death. But I
can strike a light so you can see the
water in your hands.’’
He folded a piece of newspaper
taken from one of his saddle pockets,
lighted a match thinking bls com
panion rather fussy, and when Jane
had drunk, he drank and gave the
horses a drink.
“I’d have offered you a drink at my
house if I'd thought of it,” he said,
helping her to remount. “I didn't aim
to be mean. You kind of took me by
surprise. I’ll admit I'm sore at Gun-
lock.”
There were lights everywhere when
Jane knocked, very late, at the ranch
house door. Kindly old Bull Page, one
of the ranch hands, greeted her in the
kitchen.
The girl was Jaded to death. “Where’s
everybody, Bull?” she asked, dropping
Into a chair.
“Why, Miss Jane, they're all out
lookin’ for you.”
“Looking for me!” exclaimed Jane
scornfully. “Well, they must be loaf
ing on the job. Where’s Quong?”
“Quong's gone to bed, but I'll get
some bacon and fried potatoes for you
In no time,” declared Bull. “Coffee?"
“Yes, and strong.”
“Same as I take it. Well, well, how’d
you manage to find your way home?”
“I didn't find it I found a man and
a cabin about a hundred miles from
nowhere, and he brought me home.
That coffee smells grand, Bull,” sighed
Jane. “Hurry up with the bacon!”
As she said the words. In stalked
the ranch foreman, Dave McCrossen.
At the sight of the missing girl he
struck an attitude of resentful aston
ishment. "Hell's bells, Jane!” he ex
claimed. "Here you are home and
we've been ridin’ all over creation for
you !"
“You must have been trying not to
find me,” said Jane coldly. Without
much reason she resented the fact
that she had got lost and not been
promptly found.
“Where were you?" asked the fore
man, sitting down.
“In the hills. You’ve always been
telling me to ride where I pleased and
that there was no danger because you'd
pick me up. I guess your formula
didn’t work."
"I missed this time. There’s never
been any trouble locatin' you before.
But it won’t happen again. So you
Just wandered away and wandered
home again?”
"I did not wander home. I was
brought home.”
“Who brought you?"
"Bill Denison.”
If a cannon cracker had been ex
ploded under McCrossen, it could not
have been more sensational than her
answer. He caught his breath with a
gulp. "That fellowl Well, somethings
do beat the devili Bull," he said, rec
ollecting himself, “go out and téli the
boys Jane Is home. Bill Denison, was
It?” he resumed, looking keenly at
Jane.
“The name doesn’t seem to sit very
well with you," observed Jane crustily.
McCrossen looked disgruntled.
"That bird's name doesn't sit very
well with anyone at Gunlock.”
Jane seemed willing to pursue the
subject "Why not?" she asked lan
guidly as she sipped her coffee.
“Why not? There's more reasons
than one. Denison Is a rustler, if you
know what that means.” He paused.
“What else?” she asked in the same
fatigued manner.
(TO BE contiiwkd )
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THE DOCTOR HELPS JACK
• I'M WORRIED
ABOUT JACK’S
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• BUT DOCTOR —, '
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MOTHER
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HIS STOMACH —I
THINK ILL TAKE
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DOCTOR
■
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TRY IT—IF YOU \
THINK THE CHANGE)
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L
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FUI ia noi
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After washing white silk stock
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On the old bridge. In Frankfort-am
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