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About Vernonia eagle. (Vernonia, Or.) 1922-1974 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 20, 1936)
VERNONIA EAGLE. VERNONIA, OREGON GUNLOCK RANCH! by FRANK H. SPEARMAN J’ Copyright Frank H. Spearman SYNOPSIS Sleepy Cat. desert town of the Southwest, is celebrating the Fourth of July. Jane Van Tanihel, beautiful daughter of Qus Van Tambel. hated owner of Gunlock ranch, has ar rived 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 Gun lock. plans revenge. CHAPTER I—Continued 2— , “A thousand, Harry." Tenison. thought a minute. “Is Jake Spotts In town?" “Here on the grounds, It he's not up at the saloon.” "Hunt him up. He’ll have a few hundred. I’ve got a few in my pock et. Where's the boy that pulls this stuff for you?" "Come over to the horses and meet Bill Denison. We're keeping him dark. They think he’s a hos tler.” 'J enison, when introduced, looked over Sawdy’s hope in his usual cold blooded fashion. Jake Spotts, the profane barbershopand-bar mag nate, appenred meantime. Tenlson asked for six hundred dollars. Jake counted his roll. He showed four hundred odd. “Give me the four, Jake," said Tenison calmly. “I c’n get all you want up at the bar, Harry,” suggested Spotts, thin, tall, bald-headed, hollow-jawed, and hollow-eyed. “There's no time to make the trip, Jake,” Interposed Sawdy, nerv ous. "The races are pretty near over, and the trick rldin’ comes next.” “No matter,” interposed Tenlson. “I'll borrow a couple hundred from Harry Boland.” “Why. Boland's backin’ the Gun lock outfit.” "All the better. I’d just like -o double-cross the . . Within the next five minutes he was talking to Boland. “What's next on tiie program?” asked the Medicine Bend gambler after the preliminaries. “Trick rldin’,’’ said Roland. “Chance to pick up any money on it?” "Sure, If you can place any money. 3et on McCrossen, ridin' for Gun lock." “The rustler?” “Hell, he's foreman at Gunlock now." “I suppose Van Tambel wouldn’t feel easy if he had an honest man stealin' for him. All right. If you say It’s McCrosson, lend me a couple of hundred, Harry. I’d like to make my fare up here, anyway.” Boland counted out two hundred dollars and handed It over. Tenlson handed half of It back to Boland, “Put this on McCrossen for me— I’ll see if I can place the rest on him myself. Who's ridin’ against him?" “Two or three buckaroos. The Circle Dot outfit have entered a young fellow—we’ll clean 'em, same as we did yesterday,” predicted Bo land. “I heard about that—suckers will always fall for it, Harry. Well, I’ll go over and talk to Sawdy and I.e fever—see if they got any money left—maybe I can get a small bet.” Boland was fat and short. He never breathed easily; but he would not have been able to breathe at all if he had heard the next talk be tween Tenison and Sawdy. “How does it look to you, Harry T blurted out Sawdy. “Like many things have looked before takin’; they don’t always look so good after. Here’s Jake's four hundred. I'm addin' six hun dred—that makes your thousand. I don't know about that cigarette trick. I never saw it done but once.” t WNU Service ▼ “Where was that?” "In Madison Square Garden." “Who pulled It?" “A young fellow—a Texan—I didn’t get his name.” From the judges’ stand came the clang of the bell. The jockeys rode up to hear the decision. When they had ridden away, the announcing judge called for the contestant in the next event—the fancy riding. Four entries rode up and were checked In. First came McCrossen, Gunlock foreman, tall and spare, long-haired and straight as a statue, riding the identical mare that tad taken the Circle Dot money the day before. Next for entry came a Gunlock brave, accoutered with banded hair in scant Indian fashion. The third hope was a local boy In brave apparel. The fourth to rise up was the night wrangler of the Circle Dot outfit—not an alarming threat either In looks or In reputation. He rode the horse on which he bad been so badly beaten the day before, Lefe ver’s little chestnut gelding. Three judges had been chosen to name the victor—Jim Laramie, a north-country cattleman, himself a rider of no mean ability; John Sel- wood, a mining man who likewise knew how to ride; and an ex-sheriff, Bill Pardaloe—now a deputy. The first test came in Indian- style riding. This meant bareback first with bridle stripped; then with bridle. The Reservation entry was at home in this. Pardaloe gave him a hundred points and waited for the next inan. The local boy passed out on this test. McCrossen made a splendid showing, but his size was against him for that style of horsemanship. The wrangler, almost as large a man, seemed able better to twist and wind himself around his geld ing. The last time he raced down the course it looked at a distance from the grandstand as If the horse had lost his rider, so completely did the wrangler bide himself on the opposite side. The judges, at least, decided that no buck they had ever seen ••¡de could hide himself more effectually from a foe—they gave the Texan par with the buck. MeCrossdn fell a few points under the two. Wild West riding followed. In this McCrossen made a perfect score. His 'ong, lithe body in ac tion, Ills perfect ease and his strik ing garb brought enthusiastic ap plause. The wrangler, now well thought: of, was a disappointment in this test. He got through all the work, but seemingly unevenly and with an effort He dropped to eighty points, with McCrossen at par. Even the local boy and the Indian passed him. “Looks like yesterday over again," said Harry Boland, disposed to Jeer at Sawdy. “Gues« your boy shot his bolt on the first round.” The laugh seemed to bore into Sawdy. “We don’t quit yet," he blurted out like one baffled but not beaten. "What do you think, Harry?” Bo land was appealing now to Tenlson. “Looks like the wrangler is through,” assented Tenlson. Back ing then to one side and speaking loud to Boland, he added: “Put that money of mine on McCrossen— he’s got the act in the bag.” "Well, better luck next time, Hen ry,” said Boland, resuming hts prod ding of Sawdy. “I don’t ask any better luck," re torted Sawdy. “My boy is the best rider in this bunch, an’ 1 know it.” "Henry,” asked Boland, “have you got any money that says that?” Sawdy fairly bated the sound of the fellow's sneering voice. “The boy’s Just havin’ an off spell—might be all right next event." "But you wouldn't bet on it?” Sawdy looked at his tormentor gravely. “You want a bet, eh?" “Sounds like It, don’t It?” “What odds'll you give?” Boland turned to Tenlson to laugh. "Here's a man with the best fancy rider on earth and askin’ odds on him.” “Askin' odds on him today only,” explained Sawdy defensively. “He's just off color today." Boland sneered again. “An’ there ain't going to be no trick rldin' to morrow. That’s a tine proposition of yours. Henry.” "I’ll have my boy In the saddle to morrow for any kind of rldin’ you name against any rider you name,” retorted Sawdy. “What odds you askin’, Sawdy?" asked Boland, dangerously near to a sneer as he questioned. “On the showin’ the boy's made,” responded Sawdy Impressively, “aud only on the chance he can pull him self together by tomorrow, I’m ask in’ two to one.” “How much do you cover at that?” “All you can raise." “Sawdy,” snapped Boland, “I'll go you a thousand, two to one.” The Judges' bell clanged for the trick riding. Sawdy in consternation rushed toward the stand. “Hold on,” he cried throwing up his hands. "Five minutes, gentlemen—Just five minutes,” he shouted. “My man Is changin’ his boots. Five minutes, please I” “Does it take him five minutes to take off his boots?” bellowed BUI Pardaloe. “I c’n kick mine off in five seconds. Start the rldin’ 1” or dered Bill, clanging the bell impa tiently. “For God’s sake, Bill Pardaloe!” shouted Sawdy, “hold on, hold on— give me at least three minutes.” If a wink from the foot of a two-story balcony might be described as sten torian, such was the slow, agonizing wink that Sawdy cast up at the Im patient judge. Pardaloe looked at his watch. “I’ll give you two minutes,” he said sternly. “Be ready or default!” But both men quite understood that this remark was for public consump tion rather than literal- enforce ment. Sawdy raced hastily back to Bo land, who, In fact, had followed him part way to the stand. “You said a thousand at two to one," panted Sawdy. He drew hastily from his pocket a roll of bills and laid the money in Tenlson's hands. “Count that—they’re mostly fifties. Now, Boland, put up or shut up.” ‘Just a minute!" Boland con ferred with his cronies—a group of them were already about him. There was a turning sidewise, a digging Into pockets, an assembling of wads; the thousand was hurried ly put Into Tenlson's hands. Boland was excited, Sawdy par ticularly calm. "Boland,” be said casually, “I’m hungry.” "What do you mean, Sawdy?” “I’m hungry for another thousand, same odds." "Like hell, I guess.” Sawdy pulled from another pocket a second roll of bills. “Put up, Boland, or shut up, just’s you like.” “Sawdy, 1’11 bet you five hundred more, even money.” It was purely a bluff, but It brought an unpleasant surprise. “I want to be fair, Harry Boland," retorted Sawdy, “just’s you was, yes terday. Put up your five hundred, buddy. I’ll cover It." The words were a blow to Boland. Sawdy’s not even pausing to Insist on odds as the money went up told him that somebody, somewhere, had loaded something. Sawdy hustled back to the stand and winked anew at Pardaloe. The bell clanged. The contestants rode up. The wran gler now, as Jane Van Tambel saucily whispered to Dr. Carpy sit ting next to her, was a symphony In brown, from head to foot—a skel eton brown jockey cap, close-fitting brown jersey, brown Jersey riding trousers, and low, soft, brown boots made up his rig. McCrossen clung to bls scarlet sash and silk shirt—nor bad the In dian or the local boy changed. As the riding went swiftly for ward and the feats grew more diffi cult, the boy and the Indian were eliminated. McCrossen took these stunts read ily, the wrangler riding fourth, and easily, in all the tests after him. These two riders seemed Indifferent ahead, the wrangler, nearing the in all the earlier feats. They rode stand, swung over to the right so standing, feet first or head first; low In the saddle that he trailed twirling rifles, turning lightning-like his hand in the dust. in the saddle to face forward or backward at full speed. CHAPTER II With the struggle narrowed to the two seemingly even-matched riders, sectators began to wonder how the <ANLY the soft clatter of the ' pony’s hoofs as he now flew contest could be decided. The judges, after conference, asked for down toward the grandstand struck a further trial of the familiar teat the ear. A slender streak of dust of picking objects from the ground. rose from where the fingers trailed Already these feats had been along the track. As he neared the made a feature and creditably per vicinity of the cigarette, the wran formed. But some word had gler lifted his fingers Just above the .reached the judges that there might dust and bent his straining eyes He passed the grandstand be further possibilities in this field. ahead. The two contestants were asked to like a flash. As he did so, his right hand was propose their own stunts, tossing for first choice. McCrossen won. A ilung out, just once, and hls Angers lady’s white handkerchief was struck at the dust. He dashed dropped, and, riding at speed, ahead, straightened himself grad turned backward in the saddle, Mc ually in the saddle, and, holding hls Crossen picked it from the ground. right hand high, checked the pony and rode slowly back. The wrangler followed suit. The judges clambered down from It was now the Texan's turn. Saw dy ran out on the track to his side. their stand and ran out on the “Give him the saddle-and-bridle track. They looked In vain circles for a trace of the cigarette; stirred trick,” he whispered. The wrangler, still breathing fast, up the dust where it might be hid demurred. "He’s seen It done. Prob den. But the wrangler, riding back ably he can do it himself, Sawdy.” toward them, held the damaged “No matter. It’ll make a hit, tire cigarette. him out” Boland was wild. He rushed out “I’m getting tired of this show to join the judges. “It’s a plain myself. It’s been pretty long," ob trick," he shouted. He pretended jected the rider. “Leave It to me, to pick up one cigarette an’ had an will you? I’ll give him one he’s other in hls hand." never seen.” There was a further ‘Where's the cigarette he dropped whispered conference. here in the first place?” asked Par “Go to it!” exclaimed Sawdy, aft daloe, pointing to the track. “It er a moment, seemingly confident of was right here. I seen It.” He ap his representative. Then he turned pealed to the other judges. ‘You to the little grandstand. seen It." The two nodded assent 'Ladies ’n' gentlemen an’ honor “What you talkin' about, Bo?” Bo able Judges,” he began. "Circle Dot land was Industriously searching has tried to contribute in a humble the track. "Find It! But be careful way to your entertainment this aft you don’t try to drop another ciga ernoon. You’re all anxious to see rette, like it!” this contest, grand as It has been, ‘The horse might have picked It brought to a decision. Our entry up on lls hoof,” bellowed Boland. for the prize will now present a feat “Yes,” commented Seiwood. “Yes. never before seen In Sleepy Cat." Examine tne pony’s mouth, too, Bo Reining to the middle of the land. He may not have swallowed track, the wrangler drew from a it yet. I say. gentlemen," he added, buttoned breast pocket of his jersey “the Circle Dot boy has done a clean a packet of cigarette papers and a job. Now, let's see McCrossen per small sack of tobacco. Seated on form.” But McCrossen, stubbornly .-eject his pawing horse, he rolled his ciga rette. put away the makings, hung ing ail hls backers,’ entreaties, re the cigarette on his lip, and lifted fused to perform. ‘Wouldn’t I be a his hat as he looked up at the spec sucker to try to beat a man at his tators and felt In another pocket own game?” he demanded. for a match. While doing so he “That trick’s no part of 'rontler awkwardly dropped the cigarette; rldin’. It’s never been done before it fell from his Up to the dusty at a Sleepy Cat celebration.” track. He bent over in the saddle It’s progress, gentlemen; prog to look regretfully down at the ress, I call it. If it ain’t been done cigarette where it lay. in Sleepy Cat, It’s been done plenty Sawdy stepped to the side of the at other celebrations. So vou,” grandstand and, after his usual thundered Sawdy, "want i orllllant salutation, began, hat in hand: “Our crowd of fair women and brave Circle Dot wrangler seems to be a men to set here year after year an’ little awkward today—nervous, may be bored stiff frith the same old be. You see, ladies, he hasn't bad tricks? Gents!” he appealed to the such a bevy of elegant women to Judges, “I call for judgment." look at for many, many weeks. The Judges huddled. At a little We’ve been on a long, hard drive distance Sawdy and Lefever hud an’ haven't seen so much ns a pic dled with the wrangler on the geld ture of a smart girl for nigh three ing. Presently Lefever stepped months—no wonder he's nervous." over to the Judges. Gents,” he an "Hear! Hear!” cried Carpy and nounced, “before you decide, we his group. Sawdy, surprised, looked make another proposal. Our man up. “Where?” he demanded. And- will now undertake to duplicate any getting only a laugh, continued: trick on a horse that the Gunlock “Whatever the reason, ladies an’ champion wants to try. We want gents, the boy has dropped his ciga to be perfectly fair.” rette. He’s makin' motions to me “You mean,” retorted Seiwood, to pick it up. But it’s too much to “you’re mean enough to beat the ask of a fat man. Let him pick up boots off him an’ carry away the the cigarette himself. Go. boy, go!” boots. Well, Boland," he called out, As the wrangler cantered leisure turning to the saloonkeeper, "you ly down the track, Sawdy, as spiel heard that. Do you want to take er, continued to explain: that challenge?” “He will now try rldin' at top "McCrossen has done all the tricks speed, to pick up his cigarette. If and done 'em well.” he succeeds, I am sure you will all "If you decline,” declared Sei- be willin’ to see him enjoy smokin' It. after a hard hour’s work, ir be wood, “Judgment for the fancy rid fails under these speed conditions, ing goes to Circle Dot. It Is so or he will retire as gracefully as pos dered. Stop your yawp, Harry Bo sible from the track an’ turn a sim land." Boland continued to protest, but ilar job over to his esteemed rival. Our wrangler will use the quirt on ^he verdict, announced to the spec his pony for the first time today. tators, met with wild approval. All we’ll ask is. Just please give the They declined to let the wrangler go. He was assailed with cries. "Do boy quiet when he rides up.” The wrangler had wheeled his It again! . . . Once more! . horse fifty yards down the track Again!” Sawdy, after a conference with and sat waiting for Sawdy’s signal. The cowman raised a warning the favorite, made a stentorian an hand. “Are you ready?" The wran nouncement: "If you’ll all get off gler nodded. "Go!” shouted Sawdy. ihe track and shut up," be began, Quirting his pony smartly and “our lad will give you one mors bending in the saddle as the wiry exhibition.” little gelding sprang In long leaps (TO BE CONTINUED)
