The Pleasantville press. (Pleasantville, N.J.) 1912-1929, 1923-08-08

8NAtDP LHC PONA PAHCoh 49,
frightened. So was |. Stewart had
turned into a devil. He fired his gun
at the PADRES feet. He pushed me
onto a bench. Again ne shot-right
before my face. II nearly tainted.
But l heard him cursing the padre
heard the padre praying or chanting
/ didn't know what. Stewart tried to
make me say things In Spanish. All
of once he asked my NAME. | told
him. He jerked at my veil. l took Ii
off. Then he threw his gun down
pushed the padre out of the door. That
was just before the vaqueros ap-
preached with Bonita. Padre Marcos
must have seen them-must have heard
them. After that Stewart grew quick
ly sober. He told me he had been
drinking at a wedding-I remember, 1t
was Ed Unions wedding. Then he ex-
plained-the boys were always gam
bling-he wagered he would marry the
first girl who arrived at Ell Cajon. l
happened to be the first one. He tried
relating to the assault on the vaquero
I have already told you"
Madeline ended, out Of breath and
painting, with her hands pressed upon
her heaving bosom.
Have rolled his red eyes and threw
back his head.
"Ho, no, hoi Ho, no, hoi Say,
Sneed, you didn't miss any of 1t, did
We? Haw. haw! Best I ever heerd In
all my born days. Ho, no |"
Then he ceased laughing, and with
gllnting gaze upon Madeline, insolent
and vicious and savage, he began to
drawl:
"Wal now, my lady, I reckon your
story, if it TALES with Bonita's an
Padre Marcos, will clear Gene Stew
art in the eyes of the court" Here he
grew slower, more biting, sharper and
harder Of face. But you needn't ex-
pect Pat Have or the court to Swaller
tibet part of your story-about bein'
detained unwhlin'"
Madeline had not time to grasp the
sense of his last words. Stewart had
convulsively sprung upward, white as
chalk. AS he leaped at Have Stillwell
interposed his huge bulk and wrapped
his arms around Stewart. There was
a brief. whirling, wrestling struggle.
Stewart appeared to be besting the old
cattleman.
Help. boys, help" yelled Stillwell.
Il can't hold him. Hurry, or there's
goin' to be blood Spilled"
Nick Steele and several cowboys
leaped to Stillwell's assistance.
Gene! Why, Gene!" painted the old
cattleman. Sure you're locoed-to act
this way. Cool down! Cool down
Why, boy, it's all right. Jest stand
still-give us a chance to talk to you.
It's only ole Bill, you know-your ole
pal who's tried to be a daddy to you.
He's only wantin' you to hev sense-to
be cool-tO wait"
LET me goi Let me go" cried
Stewart and the p~oignancy of that cry
pierced Madeline's heart. Let me go,
Bill, if you're my friend. l saved your
life once-over in the desert. You
swore you'd never forget. Boys, make
him let me goi Oh, 1 don't care what
Hawe's said or done to me! 1t was
that about herl Are you all a lot of
Greasers? How can you stand 1t?
D-n you for a lot of towards There's
a limit, 1 tell you" Then his voice
broke, fell to a whisper. "Bill, dear
old Bill, let me go. I'll kill himl You
know I'll kill him!"
Gene, l know you'd kill him If you
he'd an even break" replied Stillwell,
soothingly. But, Gene, why, you amt
even packin' a gun! An there's Pat
lookin' nasty, with his hand nervous
like. He seen you he'd no gun. He'd
jump at the chance to plug you now,
an then boiler about opposition to the
law. Cool down, son; it'll all come
right"
Suddenly Madeline was transf1xed by
a terrible sound. Her startled glance
shifted from the anxious group round
Stewart to see that Monty Price had
leaped off the porch. He crouched
down with his hands below his hips,
where the big guns swung. From his