The Montgomery tribune., 1908-05-08


With the magical pressure Of her
lips upon his, he swung into the sad
die and spurred down the road, II
was q principle Of his military train.
ing never to temporize with a mob
he would strike hard, but he must
have sufficient force behind him. He
reined up before the seemingly desert.
ed camp, his horse flung back upon its
launches. white foam hecking ia
quivering TANKS.
Sergeant" The sharp snap OF his
voice brought that officer forward on
the run. Where are the men?"
"Playin' ball, most Of 'em. sir. Just
beyond the ridge"
Are the horses out in the herd?"
Yes, sir"
Sound the recall; arm and mount
every man; bring them into Glencaid
on the gallop. Do you know the old
Shasta miner"
mo, SIR"
Halfway up the hill back OF the
hotel. You'll find me somewhere in
front Of 1t. This is a matter of life OF
| death, so Jump lively now.!"
He drove In his spurs, and was on
| like the wind. A number of men were
In the street, all hurrying forward in
the same direction. but he dashed past
| them. These we're miners mostly,
| eager to have a hand in the man.hunt.
Here and there rider skurried along
and joined in the chase. Just beyond
the hotel, halfway up the hill, rifles
were speaking irregularly, the white
puffs Of smoke blown quickly away by
the stin breeze. Near the center of
this line Of skirmishers a denser cloud
was beginning to rise in spirals.
Brant. perceiving the largest group Of
men gathered just before him, rode
straight toward them. The crowd
scattered slightly at his approach, but
promptly closed in again as he drew
up his horse with taut rein. He look
ed down into rough, bearded faces.
Clearly enough these men were In no
fit spirit for peace making.
"You damn fool!" roared one.
hoarsely, his gun poised as II in
threat, what do you mean by riding
us down like that? Do you own this
country"
Brant flung himself from the saddle
and strobe in front Of the fellow. Il
mean business. You see this uniform
Strike that, my man, and you strike
the United States. Who Is leading
this OUTFIT"
Il don't know as it's your affair" +"
the man returned, sullenly. I'VE amt
takin' no army orders at present, mis-
ter. We're free-born American citi.
zens, an ye better let US alone"
THAT is not what asked you" and
Brant squared his shoulders. his
hands clinched. MY question was.
Who is at the head of this outfit? and
l want an answer"
The spokesman looked around upon
the others near him with a grin Of de.
rision. "Oh, ye do, hey? Well. reck.
on we are, IL you must know. Since
Big Jim Larson got it in the shoulder
this outfit right yere hes bin doin'
most Of the brain work. So If we've
got anythin' ter say, mister officer
man, l reckon ye better spit it out
yere ter me, an sorter relieve yer
mind"
"Who are you?"
The fellow expectorated vigorously
into the leaves under foot, and draw
ing one hairy hand across his lips,
flushed angrily to the unexpected in
quiry.
"Oh, tell him, Ben WHATS the
blame odds? He can't do ye no hurt. .
The mans look became dogged
I'm Ben Cotton, II it'll do ye any good
to know"
81 thought I had seen you some
where before" said Brant, consemptu
ously, and then swept his glance
about the circle. "A nice leader OF
vigilantes you are, a fine representa-
tive Of law and order, lovely speci
men of the free born American
citizen! Men, do you happen tc
know what sort of cur you are fol
lowing in this AFFAIR.""
"Oh. Bens all right"
What ye got against him younl
feller?" :.
"Just this" and Brant squarely
fronted the man, his voice ringing like
steel. I've seen mobs before to-day
and I've dealt with them. I'm not
afraid of you or your whole Sutflt
J and I've got fighting men to back me
} up. I never yet saw any mob which
| wasn't led and melted by some COW
ardly, revengeful rascal. Honest mer
; Net mixed up in such affairs, but they
are invariably inflamed by some low
r down sneak with an ak to grind.
confess don't know all about thil
Cotton. but know enough to say hi
r is an army deserter. liar. a dive
keeper, a gambler, and. to my certain
knowledge, the direct cause of the
death of three men. one soldier o.
: my troop. Now isn't he g sweet speci
men to lead In the avenging Of a sup
posed crime?"
) Whatever else Cotton might have