The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-05-31


 Mcclure now" He rose and moved toward it. but Coast caught him by | the arm.
 Worried, eh ?" he said with grin. Wants to know what's happened! All | right. Tell h3m-ten the-." And then, as Peter released himself, Wait a minute. Tell him you've got me Tell him I'm talking. Ask for in structions. He'll tell you what to do | with me, damn quick,'' he sneered. Peter waited a moment. thinking, while the bell tinkled again, and then | took down the receiver. He was in no mood to listen to Mcclure. 'HeIl-Yes, this is Nichols $ All right, yes. Shot at from the dark while paying the money. You hit Yes, you. I'm no fool. McGuire. * He's here-at the Cabin. I've just fixed his shoulder-. All right. What shall do with hin? Yes Yes, he's talking. Let him go, Hello! Let him go, you say? Yes-'
 Let me get to hinn-,' growled Coast, pushing close to the transmit ter. "Hello-Mike McGuire-hell ello
 He's gone" said Peter.
 Let him go,'" sneered Coast. You'd bet he'd let me go." Then he | looked at Peter and laughed. He's scared all right-beat it like a cotton tail. Seems a shame to take the l money, Pete-a real shame"
 He laughed uproariously then saun- tered easily over to the table, took another of Peters cigarettes and sank him in silence He was an unwelcome guest, but he hadn't yet gratif1ed Peters curiosity.
 Well, what are you going to do?'' asked Peter.
 "Me?" Coast inhaled Peters cigar ette luxuriously, and smiled. I'm goin' West, pronto-to get my facts straight-all at the expense of the party of the first part I might stop off at the Grand Canyon first for the view. I need a rest. Pete. I ain't as young as I was-or I mightn't of let you put me out easy tonight. I'm glad of that though. Wouldn't like to of done you hurt"
 And then-?" asked Peter stead fly.
 Then? Oh. I'll beat it down to Bisbee and ask a few questions. I just want to hook up a few things I don't know with the things I do know. I'll travel light, but comfort able. Five thousand dollars makes a heap of difference in your point of view-and other peoples. I'll be an Eastern millionaire lookin' for invest ments. And what won't know about Jonathan K McGuire, alias Mike Mo Guire, won't be worth knowin'." He broke off, and his glance caught the interested expression on the face of his host
 'H-m. Curious. ain't you. Pete?'
 Yes" said Peter frankly. 'T am. Of couse it's none of my business, but"
 But you'd like to know. just the same. I get you.'' He licked off the ash of his cigarette and picked up his whisky glass. well" he went on, "I don't see why shouldn't tell you some of it-that is. It won't do any harm for you to know the kind of skunk you're workin' for. There's some of it that nobody on Gods earth will ever know but me and Mike Mo Guire-unless he slips up on one of his payments, and then everybody's goin' to know. Everyb ody-but his daughter first of all"
 Coast was silent a long moment while he drained the whisky and slowly set the glass down upon the were unpleasant, darkened percept- ibly as they marked the years his thoughts followed, and the lines at his lips and nostrils became more deeply etched in bitterness and ugly resolve.
 Ut was down in the San Luis val ley I first met up with Mike McGuire. He was born in Ireland, of poor but honest parents, as the books tell us. He changed his name to Jonathan K when he made his first stake That meant he was conlin' up in the world-see? Me and Mike worked together up in Colorado, punchin' cat tle harvestin'; ranchin' generally. We were 'buddies,' mon gars, like you an me, eatin', sleepin' together as thick as thieves. He had a family some where same as me-the wife had a little money, but her old man made | him quit-some trouble. - After a while we got tired of workin' for wages, grub-staked. and | beat it for the mountains. That was l back in nineteen one or two, reckon | We found a vein up above Wagon | Wheel Gap. It looked good and we | staked out claims and worked it, | hardly stoppin' to eat or sleep" Coast l Well, the long an short of that, mon | vieux. was year of hard work with | only a thousand or so apiece to show | for it. It was only a pocket Helli" | He broke off in disgust and spat into l the fireplace. Don't talk to me about l your gold mines. There ain't any sucn i animal. We'll, Mike saved his. I | spent mine. Faro. You know-an' | women. Then I got hurt. I was as good as dead-but I pulled through. l ain't easy to kill. When I came | around, I cnored for a while, doin l odd jobs where I could get 'em and | got a little money together and went to Pueblo. When struck town got | pretty drunk and busted a faro bank | never did have any luck when | was sober" "Yes, you've told me about that" | said Peter.
 ''So I did-on the Bermudian- Well l it was at Pueblo met up with Mike | McGuire, and we beat 1t down into | Arizona, where the copper was Bis |