Mountain Home Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1915-1946, 1923-06-30

A-ALzz&2Ge8fa eSSsrst
HES Raisin' His Rifle Slow. Lord
How Slow He Isl"
the opinion that it was a long wait
But 1t seemed short. Gale had th'
and therefore was best shielded from
possible fire from the higher ridges
Of the rim, some three hundred yards
distant. Jim came next, well hidden
In a crack. The positions of ThorGe
and Ladd were most exposed. They
kept sharp lookout over the uneven
rampant of their hiding-place
Suddenly the dead stiffness was
rent by a shot, clear and stinging,
close at hand. 1t was from a rife,
not q earbine. With startling quick
ness cry followed-a cry that
pierced Gale-it was so thin, so high
keyed, so different from all other
cries. It was the involuntary human
Shrek of death.
"Yaqui's called out another pard-
ner," said Jim Lash, laeonically.
Carbines began TO crack. The re-
ports We're quick, light, like sharp
spats without any ring. Gale made
out round spots, dark against the
background of red, and in front of
them leaped out small tongues of fire.
Ladd's .405 began to "spang" with its
beautiful sound of power. Thorne
was firing, somewhat wildly, Gale
thought. Then Jim Lash pushed his
Winchester over the rim under a
choya, and between shots Gale could
hear him singing: "Turn the lady,
turn-turn the lady, turnl
Alaman left Swing your partners
Forward an back
Turn the lady, turnl" Gale got into
the fight himself, not so sure that he
hit any of the round, bobbing objects
he aimed at, but growing sure of him
self as action liberated something
forced and congested within his
breast.
Then over the position of the rang
ers came a hail Of steel bullets. Those
that struck the lava Missed away into
the crater; those that came biting
through the ehoyas made a sound
which resembled a sharp ripping of
silk. Bits of cactus stung Gales face,
and he dreaded the flying thorns more
than he did the flying bullets.
''Hold on, boys" called Ladd, as he
crouched down to reload his rifle
"Save your shells The Greasers are
spreadin' on us, some goin' down be-
low Yaqui, others movin' up for that |
high ridge When they get up there |
I'm id if it won't be hot for us.
There amt room for us to hide here"
Ladd raised himself to peep over
the rim. Shots were now scattering,
and all appeared to come from below.
A volley of shots from a different
angle was followed by the quick ring
Of steel bullets striking the lava all
around Gale. His first idea, as he
heard the projectiles sing and hum
and whine away into the air, was that
they were coming from above him. He
looked up to see a number of low,
white and dark knobs upon the high
point of lava. They had not been
there before. Then he saw little, pale,
Ieaping tongues of fire AS he lodged
Town he distinctly heard bullet strike
Laid. At the same instant he seemed
10 hear Thorne cry out and fall, and
Lash's boots scrape rapidly away.
Laid fell backward still holding the
405. Gale dragged him into the shell
Ter of his own position, and dreading
20 look at him. took up the heavy
weapon. It was with a kind of saw
lge strength that he gripped the rife;
md 1t was with a cold and deadly In
ent that he aimed and fired. The first
7reaser huddled low, let his carbine
70 Gathering down, and then crawled
behind the rim. The second and third
erked back. The fourth seemed to
lop up over the crest Of lava. A dark
lrm reached for him, clutched his leg,
rled to drag him up. It was in vain.
Wildly grasping at the air the bandit
ell, slid down steep shelf, rolled
,ver the rim, to go hurtllng down out
# sight
"Shore-Pm On glad-them Greas-
RS amt usln' soft-nose bullets"
rawled a calm voice
Swift as lightning Gale whirled.
LADY, 1 thought you were done
or" cried Gale, with break in his
dice.
The rangers blouse was open at the
eek, and on his right shoulder under
he collar bone was small hole just
eginning to bleed.
Sure it's high, Laddy," replied Gale,
lady went clear through, clean as
whistler
He tore a handkerchief into two
arts, made wads, and pressing them
lose over the wounds he bound them
here with Ladd's scarf.
"Laddx, I'm afraid Thorne's done