The Little River news., 1920-04-28
PAR ! Curly.
CHAPTER [.
Following a Crooked Trail.

Following a Crooked Trali.
 Across Dry valley a dust cloud had been moving for hours. It rolled into Saguache at the brisk heels of bunch of horses just about the time the town was settling itself to supper. From cut of the heart of 1t cantered rider, who swung his pony as on half dol lar, and defiected the remuda toward 0unn's corral.
 The rider was in the broad-rimmed feat hat, the gray shirt, the plain leath- CT chaps of vaquero. Under other conditions he might have been col lege freshman for age. but the compe- tent confidence of manhood sat easily on his broad shoulders. Curly Elan. drau had more than once looked into the chill eyes of death.
 The leaders of the herd dribbled into the corral through the open gate, and the others crowded on their heels. Three more riders followed Curly into the inclosure. One of them, a red haired young fellow of about the same age as Curly, swung stifly from the saddle.
 Me for a square meal first off," he gave out promptly.
 "Not till we've finished this business, Mac. We'll put deal right through if Warren's here" decided a third mem- ber of the party. He was a tough-loOk ing customer of nearly fifty. Bad Bill' CranSton he was called, and the man looked as if he had earned his sobri- quet.
 "And what if he ain't herey snarled Late Blackwell. Are you aiming to cit down and wait for him1'
 "Weu cross that bridge when we come to it." Bad Bill answered. "Curly, want to ride up to the hotel and ask H Ar. Dave Warren is there? Bring Nm right down if he is."
 The young man cantered up the dnsty street toward the hotel.
 Thought you'd fixed 1t with this Warren to be right on the spot so's we could unload on him prompt" Blackwell grumbled at Crnnston with sat looking toward the latter.
 'T didn't promise he'd be hanging round your neck soon as you hit town" Oranston retorted coolly.
 The owner of the corral sauntered from the stable and glanced over the bunch of horses milling around.
 "Drive all the way from Bar Double MI" asked the keeper, bis eyes on the brand stamped on the flank of a pony circling past.
 "Yep."
 Bad Bill turned away and began to unsaddle.
 Looks like you been hitting the road at a right lively gait"
 Mac cut in. "Shoulder of my bronc's cbafed from the saddle. Got anything thatll heal it?"
 You bet I have" The man hurried into the stable and the red-headed cow puncher winked across the back of his horse at Bill.
 The keeper of the stable and the young man were still busy doctoring the sore when Curly arrived with War ren. The buyer was round-bodied man with black gimlet eyes that saw much he never told. The bargain he drove was a hard one, but It did not take long to come to terms at about oue-third the value of the string he was purchasing. Very likely he had his suspicious, but he did not voice them. No doubt they cut figure in the price. He let 1t be understood that he was supply agent for the rebels in Mexico. Before the bills were warm in the pockets of the sellers. his vaquerOs were mounted and were moving the remuda toward the border.
 Curly and Mac helped them get started. AS they rode back to the cor rai a young man came out from the were reasons why he wanted just now to be stranger in the land with his identity not advertised. He let out q shout.
 "Oh, you, Slats Davis"
 "Hello. Curlyi How are things a-comin'1"
 "Fine. When did you blow in to SdguacheI Amt you on your run somef"
 They had ridden the range together and had frolicked around on dozen boyish larks. To put 1t mildly the meeting was likely to prove embarrass- ing.
 "Came down to see about getting some cows for the old man from the Fiddleback outfit" Davis explained. "YOu riding for the Bar Double MI"
 There was a momentary silence. Curly's vigilant eyes met those of his old side partner. What did Slats know1 Were his suspicious already activef
 "No. Pm riding for the Map of Texas" Flandrau answered evenly.
 ~COmA on Curly L0t'a % fA0d Our