The Chesterfield advertiser. [volume] (Chesterfield C.H., S.C.) 1884-1978, 1921-03-10


asked the other g't,ially. "But, II you
must know to be Ihppy--rm the mar
shal O. Haskell. 90 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 his
head, cursing angrily.
what kind Of low down trick is
this, Brennanf' he snapped, glaring
through the darkness at the face Of his
captor. "What's become of Pascual
Mendez? Amt his outfit yere7"
His outfits here all right dead an
alive" and Brennan chuckled cheer
FULLY. but not being no gospel sharp
l can't just say whur OIL Mendez is.
WHAT'S left ov his body is in thet cabin
yonder, so full o. buckshot 1t ought ter
weigh ton"
"Dead7"
"As a door nail. II yer ask me. II
was some nice ov yer tr come ridin'
long here ternight. Lacy. 1t sorter
helps me ter make q good, decent
cleanup ov this whole measly outfit.
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-
ers and cattle, until the party return.
Ing to Haskell could send them help.
Westcott drove. with Miss Donovan
perched beside him on tt spring-seat,
and Cavendish lying on 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 he 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. possi-
bl! because Of failure to recognize
hir. IN the darkness. no ala An was
rni.ch or any effort made to block
til... rrcgress. Without Lacy to urge
then. OIL, the disciples Of Judge Lynch
haG likely enough forgotten the whole
affn!r.
A WestcOtt clambered over tho
wheel and then assisted the lady to
aiigbt the face of the landlord was
eufhriently expressive Of surprise.
Your he exclaimed. staring into
tb.af faces doubtfully. what IA.
nam Hill dncs this meant"
"On1y that we've got back, 'r,mmons
Why this fr!gid reception"
"Well. this yere is respectable ho-
tel an i ain't goin' ter have 1t all
mussed up by no lynchin' party" the
landlords voice full OF regret Then
this we're gal she wrote me shed gone
back East"
WestcOtt laughed.
"Stow your crouch, old man. and
give us hand. There will be no
lynching, because Lacy Is In the hands
Of the marshal. AS to this lady, she
never sent you that note. She was abb
Quoted by force and has Just escaped.
Don't stand there like fool. III tell
you the story later. There's wound.
ed man under the canvas there. Come
on and help me carry him inside"
Timmons, sputtering but impotent to
resist, took hold reluctantly, and the
two together bore the helpless Caven.
dish through the deserted office and UP
the stairs to the second floor. where he
was comfortably settled and a doctor
sent for. The task was sufficiently
strenuous to require all the breath
TimmOns possessed, and he managed
to repress his eager curiosity until the
wounded man had been attended to-
Once in the hail. however and the door
closed, he could no longer control him.
self.
''Now see yere, Jim Westcott," he
painted. one hand gripping the stair
rail. i've got ter know what's uI
afore / throw open this yere, hotel tC
yer free use this-away. AS a general
thing I amt round huntin' trouble
, reckon yer know that-but this yert
affair beats me. What was 1t yer sale
about Bill Lacyf"
| Hes under arrest, charged will
cattle-stealing, abduction, conspiracy
and about everything else on the cal
, endar. Brennan's got him, and like
wise the evidence to convict"
, Good Lord Is that sof"
"It is; the whole Mendez gang ha.
. been wiped out Old Mendez has beer
killed. The rest Of the outfit, including
Juan Cateras, are prisoners"
Timmons' eyes were fairly poppin,
out of his head, his voice a mer,
, thread Of sound.
. "Don't that beat h-w he managet
!. to articulate. where's the marshal 2
"Riding herd at a place they cal
, Sunken valley. about fifty miles sOutl
Z Of here. He and Moore have got ten o
= twelve Mexicans and maybe three hun
! dred head of cattle to look after, unit