Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1917-10-03

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sister Bess were watching with I'M
bridled amusement the efforts of Buds
little boy, Sam, to ride an aged and
well-infOrmed donkey "a sad-eyed
creature who demonstrated his intel
ligence by lying down as often as the
child got firmly seated on his back.
Their laughter came clearly to the
ears of the Killer. His own eyes
twinkled sympathetically. Then he
yawned and hoped that their summons
to breakfast would not be too long
delayed. 1t bored him to wait there
in the heat and dust without the sol
ace of cigarette.
He fOndled the grip of his revolver
and repined that his orders had been
strict that he might not shoot now,
when the three offered him such fair
targets and have done with the bust
ness without delaying to take two of
them prisoners If possible.
In due time. however, the mother
appeared In the doorway and called
them in. The donkey was abandoned
to crop his own breakfast. The door
yard was left untenanted. Gomez sub
Jected the surrounding landscape TO
one final, prolonged scrutiny, then
turned, squirmed back through the I'M
derbrush, rose to his feet, and hurried
to rejoin his fellows.
Leading their horses, the Mexicans
moved forward furtively, surrounding
the home without rousing the suspi-
cions of its tenants.
To these the attack came like thun-
der from the blue. They breakfasted
behind doors closed and bolted-by
habit of precaution; that circumstance
alone provided them with a chance for
their lives.
There came sudden rush of feet
in the dooryard, and the front door
was furiously battered with rifle butts.
simultaneously a window adjoining
the table was smashed In. Bud Nor
gan had barely time to spring to the
cartridge belt and holster which hung
on the wall behind them when the first
shot sounded. He emptled a revolver
at the window In response-meanwhile
urging the two women and the child
into the adjoining bedchamber.
AS they disappeared the front door
began to give to the blows of an ak.
Bud had a second revolver ready for
the rush that followed its breaking
in. The satisfaction of seeing two of
the raiders fall was at least his before
he was charged aud carried to the
floor by half dozen Mexicans.
Why he was not shot outright passed
his understanding. His weapons emp
ty, he fought madly with his bare
hands. He was a young man, and
hard and powerful; the combined ex-
ertions of the six could not avail to
keep him down for long. One after
another he struck and kicked them off,
then struggled to his feet. At the
same time he was assailed from be-
hind; a staggering blow from a gun
butt all but felled him.
Sick with pain, he reeled out through
the doorway. There others awaited
him. He went down again under their
assault, again fought his way to his
feet, this time with a revolver which
he had wrested from the grasp of one
of his adversaries.
Gomez the Killer confronted him as
he rose-weary of eye, almost diffident
of manner, watching his prey warily,
revolver poised. 1t was becoming
plain to Gomez that this man was not
to be taken alive. AS Bud caught sight
of him, he fired. The Americans head
jerked back sharply, there was a look
Of agony on his face. swiftly erased
by the Darkness of Inconsistencies,
his knees buckled, and he dropped
one side of his head a mass of blood.
1t never occurred to the Killer to
doubt that his bullet had penetrated
Buds brain. He wasted no more
thought upon the unhappy man-after
irrltably kicking him-and passed on
into the house.
The bedchamber door was down.
Within, Bess Morgan was fighting for
her life. A dead Mexican just beyond
the threshold testified to the skill with
which she had used the revolver
which, its every chamber discharged,
she was now employing as a club.
Slender and young. a mere slip of a
fair-haired girl barely out of her
teens, she fought with science and the
desperation of one who faces, if not
death, worse than death. She had no
reason to anticipate any sort Of mercy;
her mother lay dead, bullet through
her heart, in far corner of the room
her little nephew had just dropped
out of the window to be ruthlessly
shot down as he fled round a corner of
the house.
Longing in the doorway, a shoulder
against, IL, Gomez rolled and lighted
cigarette, watching her struggles with
gllmmer of appreciation. Gringo
women like this, with such spirit and
strength, were worth fighting for. The
Killer regretted that he must hand
her over to his superior. What a
woman-once he had tanned herl
She was standing off no less than
three Mexican desperadOes--one she
stretched out with a skull cracked by
a shrewd blow from the butt of the re-
volver, even while Gomez watched.
But the others were too many for her;
stepping back to avoid their rushes,
she tripped over the body of one of
their fellows, and went down. That
was the end; in another moment she
was helpless in their hands.
Gomez Strengthened up from the
doorway. "Come," he said quietly;
hold her fast, but don't hurt her"