The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1920-12-23

~ u
"Hands Up, Bill" He Said Quietly.
"Who the HI are your"
That doesn't make much difference,
does it, as long as I've got the drop?"
asked the other genially. But, If you
must know TO be happy-I'm the mar
shall o. Haskell. Go easy, boy; you've
seen me shoot afore this, an 1 was
born back in Texas with a weapon In
each hand. Climb down off'n that
hoss.'
Lacy did so, his hands above mis-
head, cursing angrily.
What kind Of a low-down trick is
this, Brennan?" he snapped. glaring
through the darkness at the face of his
captor. "What's become of Pascual
Mendez? Amt his outfit yere?"
His outfits here all right, dead an
alive" and Brennan chuckled cheer.
fully, but not being no gospel sharp
l can't just say whar OIL Mendez is.
What's left ov his body is In thet cabin
yonder, so full O. buckshot it ought ter
weigh a ton"
"Dead?"
las a door nail, If yer ask me. It
was some nice ov yer ter come ridin'
long here ternight. Lacy. It sorter
helps me ter make a good. decent
cleanup ov this whole measly outfit.
l reckon I'll stow yer away, along with
them others. Mosey up them steps
there, an don't take no chances lookin'
back"
=
1t was a hard, slow Journey back
across the desert. MoOre's team and
wagon were requisitioned for the pur.
pose, but Matt himself remained be-
hind to help Brennan with the prison.
ers and cattle, until the party return.
ing to Haskell could send them help.
Westcott drove, with Miss Donovan
perched beside him on the spring-seat,
and Cavendish lying on a pile Of blan-
kets beneath the shadow Of the canvas
top. They stopped to lunch at Baxter
springs, and to water the team, and
1t was considerably after dark when
they finally drove creaking up the
main street of Haskell and stopped in
front of the Timmons house to unload.
The street was devoid of excitement,
although the Red Dog was wide open
for business, and Westcott caught a
glimpse Of Mike busily engaged be-
hind the bar. A man or two passing
glanced at them ~curiously. but, posi-
bly, because of failure to recognize
him In the darkness, no alarm was
raised or any effort made to block
their progress. Without Lacy to urge
them on, the disciples Of Judge Lynch
had likely enough forgotten the whole
affair.
AS Westcott clambered owe the
wheel and then assisted the lady to
alight the face Of the landlord was
sufficiently expressive of surprise.
"You" he exclaimed. staring into
their faces doubtfully. what the
-" 'oes this mean?"
'Only that we've got back. Timmonl
Why this frigid reception"
swell, this yere Is a respectable no
tel an I amt goin' ter have 1t al
mussed up by no lynchin' party" tn
landlords voice full Of regret. ''sThel
this yere gal; she wrote me she'd gon
back East"
Westcott laughed.
"Stow your crouch, old man, an
give us a hand. There will be n
lynching, because Lacy is In the hand
Of the marshal. As to this lady, sh
never sent you that note. She was ali
Quoted by force and has just escaped
Don't stand there like a fool. I'll tel
you the story later. There's a wound
ed man under the canvas there. Com
on and help me carry him inside"
, Timmons. sputtering but impotent {
resist, took hold reluctantly. and tn
two together bore the helpless CaveI
| dish through the deserted office and u
the stairs to the second floor, where b
was comfortably settled and q docto
sent for. The task was sufficient
strenuous to require all the breat
Ttmmcns possessed. and he manage
to repress his eager curiosity until tn
wounded man had been attended Il
Once In the hall, however. and the doc
; closed. he could no longer control hin
self
Now 80 yere. Jim Westcott," b
( painted q hand gripping tbs stat
rail, I've got ter know what's q
afore / throw open this yers hotel I
yer nree NE this-away. A q generl
. thing ] amt round hunttn' trerNle-
reckon yer know that-but H'g ~
, a1nair beats M. What wa e yer ~
Z abeut Hun Lager,
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