The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-12-07

Bard, they've already said enough things about me to fill book-notes and all, with bunch of pictures thrown in. What cant live down fight down, and no man never says the same thing twice about me. 1t aint healthy. If that's all that bothers you, close your eyes and let me deal you out of this mess. guess we can stay here to- night without no danger. And in the morn ing-well, the morning can take care of it. self. Pm going to turn in.
 He rose obediently and stood at the door, facing the night. From behind came the rustic of clothes, and the sense of her fol lowed and surrounded and stood at his shoulder calling him to turn.
 At length: "All right, Anthony. It's your turn"
 She was lying on her side, facing the wall, . little heap of clothes on the foot of her bunk, and the 1.-the lines of her body some thing to be guessed at-sensed beneath the heavy blanket He. slipped into his own shadows across the ceiling. He strove to think, but, the waves of light and dark plotted from his mind all except the feeling of her nearness. For a time he dared not move. He was feeling for himself like a man who fumbles his way down dark passage dangerous with constructions. All he knew was an overpowering will to see her. He turned; :; inch by inch, little degree by degree, know
 
 her eyes, the end would rush upon them, overwhelm them, carry them along like straws on the flooding river. At last his head was turned, he looked
 She lay on her back smiling as she slept. One arm hung down from the bunk and the graceful fingers trailed, palm up, on the floor, curling little, as if she had just re- faxed her grasp on something. And down past her shoulder, half covering the white ness of her arm, fled the torrent of brown hoIr Xr-lfh fiyo1i irhf 1,to ,1h like sunlit mist.
 Finally he rose, and dressed with caution, for he knew that he must go at once. He stopped and smoothed down the blankets of his bunk, for no trace of him must be the night. He would go far away-see and be seen.-apart from Sally Fortune. He picked up his saddle and stole step by step across the floor, to the door, to the night.
 Chapter XXIl-Trapped TT WAS not long after the departure of N Bard that Sally Fortune awoke. For
 step had creaked the floor, and she looked up to find Steve Nash standing i'll the center of the room with the freight gloonily about him; behind, blocking the door with his squat figure, stood Shorty Kilrain.
 Where's your side -kicker?" asked Nash. "Wheres Bard?"
 And looking across the room, she saw that the other bunk was empty. She raised her arms quickly, as II 10 Stlfle yaWn, ana sat up in the bunk, holding the blanket close about her shoulders. The face she showed Nash was calmly contemptuous.
 "The bird seems to be flown, eh?" she queried.
 Where is he?" he repeated and made a step nearer. "Out with it. The tender foot ain't left his woman far away. Where's he gone? Who's he gone to shoot in the back? Where's the hoss he started out to rustle?"
 Kind of peeved, Nash, eh?"
 He leaned, caught her wrist in crushing pressure.
 "You demon; you she-devilv'
 She whirled out of the bunk, the blanket caught about her like the toga of some ancient Roman girl, and as she moved she had swept up something heavy and bright from the floor.
 All this, and still his grip was on her left arm. Z
 Drop your hand, Nash"
 He threw her from him and stood snarl ing like a dog growing for the bone it feared to touch because there may be poison in the taste.
 "If wrung that throat of yours," he said, "I know l couldn't get out of you where he's gone"
 Because don't know, you see."
 Don't know?"
 He's given me the slip.''
 That's another lie"