The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1924-05-28

| course, don't low ID names hop
kins, n more'n mine is," he muttered
but It's the best can do"
The woodsman stopped; raked tn
mass Of hair down; brought the rec
lock into view; spread his hand owe
the lower part Of the face to hide tn,
beard
by the lord-Ken Colin"
Jack took his hand away from ovel
the beard; scraped the hair carefully
back into place.
'"They say that red lock comes dowr
from oil Red Colin, sea pirate hun
dreds of years ago, that 1t shows VI
every three r four generations, al
w'ys bringin' along with it drop I
two of bad blood. 1t shore played the
devil with Ken"
Didn't itv' was Uncle Nicks
thoughtful comment-"robbed and
murdered is OF man, an then
preached is funeral-Lord
A short silence fell.
II could "a killed i'm there at the
safe" the woodsman unused, half to
himself, "but didn't. 1 only shot
away is gun and fought i'm fair.
When he was down, with is hair all
mussed up and the red lock worked
out in sight, that was the first time l
knowed i'm. After that 1 tried t.
save i'm and let i'm git away, not
KNOWN he had another pistol hid on
i'm. When he thought e had me off
guard, he turned around quick and
shot; missed me-and hit-her."
He stood a long time silent, his head
half bent aside, his thoughts doubtless
back where a hapless sufferer lay
moaning; turned at last; gazed at the
knife, buried to a gruesome depth in
the blood-mussed shirt-front Of the
fallen man; glanced up at his old
friend and found the deep-set eyes
studying him in thoughtful RETROSPECT
ton.
uncle Nick, what sort Of lock
have y'u got on y'ur jaw?"
flight as clam shell, If you say
so," was the ready answer.
I'm askin' y'u t. lock it'-his words
were serious and slow. ut amt no use
t. worry-her"-he jerked his head
down the gulch-"by lettin' 'er find
out 1t was--him-"
He gazed down at the sprawled body.
'Tm askin' you t. tend t. layin' i'm
out and buryin' i'm; and be p'inted
p'tic'lar t. keep 'is hair combed SOS the
red lock don't show. Nobody would
know I'm only by that. The way he
had 'imself cobbled up-them clothes
and specs and whiskers, and the way
e talked, and is face puckered up the
way e KEEP it-he didn't look a bit
more like Ken Colin than you do. Stay
here, and I'll send Al up with Doctor
Arnold's stretcher t. hep y carry i'm
in"
He stopped to straighten the dead
man and-a subconscious act Of COM
passion, perhaps-to get the cramped
arm out from under him. AS he moved
the arm, the frock coat fell open and
piece of soiled white paper stuck in
pocket Of the vest caught his eye.
He drew it forth, glanced over the
dozen or so scrawled words and passed
the paper to Uncle Nick. The old man,
nuttering something about not having
ais glasses along, passed it back and
The wOodsman read aloud:
"This man amt no preacher. Hes
Slim Finger Doolin. Hes the slickest
'Orger and counterftter that ever lived
and devilish light fingered with a six
gun. He ruined my sister. That's why
les dead. He amt no human. Hes got
he CUTS Of a snake and the devils
blood. That's why knitted i'm Std wv
;hootin i'm white. 1t wont 5e no use
ollerin me cause yu wont ketch me.
"LOGE BELDEN."
A long silence followed the reading
# the note. The woodsman was the
irst to break 1t.
Il amt amin t. follow 'im," he said,
While spark of flint narrowed his
.yes-"a man that'll back his sister
lke-that."
Ievil makes EN-" was the old hunters
comment, as he slowly
cached for his pipe, "but We'll hat t
onsait i'm one white feather"
He kicked Black Bogus box to the
pen door, stood it on end, sat down
nd scraped his match on the door
amb.
With final word of caution to keep
ecret the identity Of the dead man,
he woodsman hurried away.
At the inquest an hour or so later
ack merely repeated the statement he
ad made the night before. OF Loge
'elden and his sister-knowing at last
er pitiful secret, he let fall no word.
he house-boat, when he went to its
iding-place days later, had disap-
cared. They had PROBABLY gone with
!. They were never followed.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)