1939-01-16 — Page 3

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CHINA MAIL

3. 1939

FRIDAY SUPPLEMENT, FEBRUARY 3

MAN stood alone at the rail

of the Longhorn saloon in Pine Notch. He was leaning on his left elbow, half facing the door. On the bar, by his left hand, was a glass of whisky; it Behind the man was nearly full.

The

at the rail, pressed well back against the faro-tables, was a knot of keen-eyed men who were ob- viously keyed for trouble. space between the man at the rail and the door was deserted. Even the bar-keep was well-back, out of angle range of anyone entering through the swing-doors.

One of the men in the crowd at the faro-tables dragged a big silver watch from a pocket.

"Wants two minutes, Cal-then it's the dead-line."

"LEAD LAW"

men

pointed, as though a stray ray of sunlight hurt them. Those behind him were cattle men.

a

an arm under the slim shoulders, and pushed back the hat, to stare into the pale features of Dale Shaw, sister of the man who had challenged him.

This

In much way this feud was as theirs as his. He stood forth as

The other men saw now what their champion against the in-

before. had seen seconds trusion of sheep on range-land. Cal

They ran forward, excited, then that had belonged to cattle men

startled suddenly shy, throwing since the first Concord wagons

glances at one another. had come West against the spears

was against all the known rules. and fire-ripped arrows of the

They were not men who made war ochre-painted Apache and

Women, comprised on Comanche. vermilion-streaked

part of a hard and fixed code, that Leaning the bar, waiting for

extreme, was chivalrous in the a man to enter with roaring and

Cal Bradley but here, in one dramatic moment, blasting, six-gun,

something had happened which was without parallel in the ex- perience of any of them.

the

stood they

for something in those men's lives,

Men caught their breath in- voluntarily. They knew were gathered there to witness drama, swift, deadly, inexorable. The man at the rail smiled, with easy indolence.

"If the liquor was good two minutes wouldn't seem long-but it ain't."

The bar-keep laughed at the sally, but it was a false sound. He and the others, crowding back, knew that nothing could stop what would happen when those two fatal minutes had expired. The Bradleys and the Shaws had been enemies since old man Shaw had pushed

Short Story

sheep up on to the Bradley's Bar B range, and the feud that had sprung up, born of the innate hatred of sheepmen and cattlemen, had taken heavy toll

There was a swift hush as the swing-doors parted a little, then slammed back. Into the saloon stepped a figure in batwing chaps, plaid shirt, and round-topped felt hat with wide, shadowing brim. Every man there knew that set of clothes, Dick Shaw had always dressed like a cow-man, though he herded woollies.

The figure in the doorway held a gun. Men caught their breath. Cal Bradley couldn't beat

him. cards stacked against

By Lester Gregory

the It

wasn't humanly possible. They waited to see him go down, blast- ed to death.

But a seeming miracle happen- One moment Cal's hand had been empty, the next it was filled. from He had snatched his gun its scabbard with one

deft eye- blurring movement.

ed. of both factions. Shaws had killed Brad- leys, and Bradleys had taken re- venge. It had gone on for nearly a dozen years, but now had flamed to savage fierceness. Cal Bradley's elder brother had fenced off Bar B cattle, and with them springs flocks. which watered the Shaw The wire had been cut, and guns had Pack Bradley had flamed.

in his a Shaw slug died with

ridden lungs. Retribution had forth, demanding an eye for an eye, and a life had been taken for a life. Si Shaw had been killed in a pitched battle, and it was rum oured that Dick Shaw was wound- ed.

But rumour is a notorious liar. A note had been delivered to

Cal Bradley:

come

"I'll be coming for you at the Longhorn in Pine Notch on Thurs- day at midday, and I'l smoking. Meet me there, Bradley, if you've got the guts.

'D. Shaw.

butt of

his Cal. Bradley was waiting. air of indolent ease fooling no one. His right hand was at his car- tridge belt, fingers hooked, ready for a swift grab at the his six-gun. Cal was the last of the Bradleys. Twenty-six, blue-, eyed, with tanned face, he stood six foot two, lean, muscular, with- out an ounce of waste flesh on his supple figure,

"Another minute, Cal", called the time-keeper.

Cal "nodded, said nothing, but his eyes contracted a little, pin-

Or

Cal,

It seemed to the cowering men that the guns blazed simultaneous- ly, although Sling Lyman, the bar- keep, afterwards contended that, amazing as it appeared, Cal Brad- ley's gun had crashed first. perhaps it was not so amazing.

A bullet whipped past smashed a bottle on the bar, but the figure in the doorway did not thumb a second shot. It suddenly crumpled, and hit the floor.

Men

stored released their breath. This was the law they knew and understood-lead law.. A challenge had been made and accepted. Honours, even to death,

L

were even.

running But Cal Bradley was

He towards the crumpled figure. had seen something the others had that made his not, something heart pound like a trip-hammer. As his adversary fell he had caught a glimpse of soft curls under the wide-brimmed hat. It wasn't Dick Shaw-although the As he ran for- clothes were his.

ward he prayed that his bullet had not found a vital part. He had taken fired too rapidly to have careful aim. As the snout of his six-gun left leather he had thum- bed the hammer. The shot had been aimed only in a general direc- tion.

But

He bent over the figure, slipped

women.

They were suddenly quiet, watchful.

Cal was saying, "Why did you do it?" thankful in his heart that his bullet had not ended the plucky girl's life.

She opened her eyes, thinly..

smiled

"I had to-I had to," she mur- mured.

"But why?" repeated Cal. "Dick sent that note. He was rarin' mad to shoot. Crazy wild he was. And then his horse threw I had him and he couldn't come. to. Don't you see? This thing is too deep, it's between Shaw and Bradley, and and Dick couldn't have anyone but a Shaw take his place. Folks would have said he'd quit-otherwise. And-and Shaw's ain't quitters."

She broke off, struggling Cal's arms for breath.

we

in

He turned, threw words over his shoulder.

"Get Doc Stanley. Sling, open I'm taking her that back door. through. And bring towels and hot water."

Sing brought the utensils Cal demanded, and without delay the boss of the Bar B tore open the girl's shirt.

Her face flamed. "Cal Bradley--" Cal's face was set.

"This is no more than I'd do for: he muttered any-any sheep," tensely.

She closed her eyes and bit her lips as he sponged clean the wound. A few minutes later Doc Stanley came in, and took charge. It was half an hour later that he came out and announced to a wait- ing throng of men that he had finished his task and was pleased with it.

Д

"The bullet went between couple ribs," he said, "and fetched up in her back. It's knocked her out for a while, but it ain't fatal -not by a long ways. But she'd better be got home and put to rest."

་

1

The men regarded one another.

Tom "Hell!" said scrawny Fletcher. "Who's gonna take her up to the Shaws' place? They's gonna get a smoky reception, guess,'

"That's fixed,” said Cal Bradley. "You don't mean, Cal-" began Sling, but the cattleman nodded. "Sure I mean it. I'm responsible. If Dick Shaw sends his sister-"

Doc Stanley interrupted.

"Hold that, Cal. Dick. Shaw didn't know a thing about this. It was her own crazy idea, at that.

She told me. She jest took Dick Shaw's clothes and came ridin' in to keep that note. Damn it, don't know which is the crazier! Best thing yuh c'n do is to see that no word of what's happened leaks to the Shaw place before-" Tize Williams, who rode for the Bar B. interrupted.

"Too late fer that, doc, I saw Chad Farrow, one of the Shaw herders, lightin' out after the gun- play. I reckon the Shaw place will be alight."

Tom Fletcher turned to others.

•

the

"That's fixed too, boys," he an- nounced. "We ride with Cal."

was

But Bradley had something to say, and from his face it plain to his hearers that he meant what he said.

"I don't take any escort, fellers," He said quietly. "If they's trouble, than then I'm meetin' it more half-way, but I'm not takin' any This is man to a bullet harvest. my bee, an' I'm honin' to be set- tlin' it in my own way.'

"But, Cal-"

There was a pleading look on The Williams sun-bronzed face.

"Sory Tize. If they's' trouble, I guess you c'n tell the boys how I made out, an,' anyway, the at- torney over to Santa Rosina knows what to do with the ranch-house an' stock."

Men accepted this in silence.

heavy

"That's final, Cal?" asked Flet- cher.

"Final, Tom," said Cal.

An hour later, driving a buck- Cal board out of Pine Notch, Bradley turned east out of the small cow-town along the trail that led through the Pine Notch hills to deep Valley, where the Shaw's homestead snugg)

H pines and cedars. reins with one hand himself a cigarette, ri the string of his m with his teeth, match along his

"You're crazier Bradley,' said t propped at his si Farrow's told his ta aim, my brother will for you right now, if he crawl to do it."

· Cal dragged at his

and

said nothing. (Continued on

MENNEN BORATED POWDER

-ANTISEP · C-

tur

cigarette The girls

Saathes and Protects

MENNEN Antiseptic

BORATED POWDER