The Bemidji daily pioneer. [volume] (Bemidji, Minn.) 1904-1971, 1922-05-25
"Most twelve, ma'am," replied the

She flashed look Of reproach at
her companion aAd bIushed again as
she fed with her bag to the ladies'
dressing room. -
The train was rolling through the
cornfelds of the Middle West when the
Arizonan awoke. He was up early,
but not long before Kitty Mason, who
was Joined at once by Dmand.
"Shucks! Nothin' to it a-tall," the
range-rider assured himself. THAT
| lP girl must have the number Of this
guy. She's flirtin' with him to beat
three Of a kind, but I'll bet dogie
she knows right where she's at"
Clay did not in the least believe his
own argument. If he had come from a
city heSwould have dismissed the mat
ter as none kof his business. But he
came from the clean Southwest where
every Straight girl Is under the pro-
lection of every decent man. II she
was in danger because Of her inno-
| cence 1t was up to him to look after
her. There was no more competent
man in Graham county than Clay
Lindsay. but he recognized that this
was a delicate affair in which he must
move warily.
On his way to the diner at noon the
range-rider passed her again. She was
alone for the moment and as she
leaned back her soft round throat
showed beating pulse. Her cheeks
were burning and her starry eyes were
looking into the future with happy
smile.
"You pore little maverick" the man
commented silently.
The two had the table opposite him.
AS the wheels raced over a culvert to
the comparative quiet of the ballasted
track beyond, the words Of the man
reached Clay. am s;.SlH
-. and ven have all day to
see the city, Kid" p 49,, .&@i',:.1. ,
Kitty shook her head. There was
hesitation in her manner, and the man
was quick to make the most Of, 1t.
"And it won't cost you cent, grille"
he added. El>2.5 r.:
But the long lashes Of the girl lifted
| and her baby-blue' eyes met his with
shy reproach.~-"I don't think ought"
she breathed, color sweeping her face
| In vivid flame.
"You should worry" he scoffed.
Lindsay knew the girl was weaken
| ing. She was no match for this big,
| dominant, two-fisted man.
The jaw of the COW puncher set.
This child was not fair game for a
man like Durand. When Clay rose to
leave the diner he knew that he meant
| to sit in and take hand.
The train was creeping through the
thickly settled quarter where the poor
er people are herded when Clay
touched Durand on the shoulder.
Like to see you moment in the
vestibule," he said in his gentle voice.
The eyes Of the two men met and
the gambler knew at once that this
! man and he were destined to be en-
! emies.
No man had ever said that Jerry
Durand was not game. He rose prompt
| ly and followed the westerner from tho
! car, swinging along with the light, cat
like tread acquired by many pugilists.
The floor of the vestibule had been
raised and the outer door Of the car
| opened. Durand found time to Won
der why.
The cowpuncher turned on him with
an abrupt question. "Can you swim?"
The eyes Of the ward boss narrowed.
| "What's that to yOuT' ne demanded
truculently.
"Nothin' to me, but a good deal to
you. I'm amin to drop you in the
river when we cross"
rs that so?" snarled Durand.
you're quite joker. amt you? Well.
suit me. But let's get this clear 50
we'll know where we're at. What's
ailin' you, rube?"
II don't like the color Of yore hair
or the cut of yore Clothes" drawled
Lindsay. you've got sure-enough
bad eye, and I'm tired Of travelin' in
yore company. Let's ger off, me or
you one"
In the slitted eyes Of the Bowery
graduate there was no heat at all.
They were bleak as heavy winter
morn. "Suits me fine. You'll not travel
with me much farther. Here's where
you beat the place."
The professional dashed out sudden
" with his left. But Clay was not at
the receiving end Of the blow. Always
quick as lightning. he had ducked and
clinched. His steel-muscled arms tight
ened about the waist Of the other. A
short-ar1n Jolt to the cheek he dsrc-
garded.
Before Durand had set himself to
meet the plunge he found himself fly
Ing through space. The gambler caught
at the rail, missed it, landed on the
cinders beside the roadbed, was flung
instantly from his feet, and rolled over
and over down an incline to a muddy
gully.
Clay, hanging to the brass railing,
leaned out and looked back. Durand
had staggered to his feet, plastered
with mud from head to knees. and was
shaking furiously a fist at him. The
face Of the man was venomous with
rage