Newark leader. ([Newark, Ohio]) 1917-1946, 1924-11-14


said Carson, still bright-eyed with
interest but pretending that that in
terest had to do with the new wall
telephone recently installed. SANDY
Weaver, 1t was. Said"
what did he want demanded Lee,
swinging suddenly on Carson, his coat
balled up in his hand and hurled
viciously under a bunk.
wasn't l telling your Carson
grunted. What's eating you, Bud?
You ac' mighty suspicious, like a man
that had swallered poison or else was
coming down with the yeller jaundice
or else was took sudden and powerful
bad with love- They all treats man
similar"
"D-n it," growled Lee irritably,
cant you tell me what Weaver satdf"
"Said, call him up, real pronto," re-
piled Carson cheerfully. "Say, Bud,
where in heck did you get that OUTFIT
BY cripes, If 1 had regalia like that
I'd be ridAg herd in 'em ev'ry Sun
day! On the square now"
But Lee wasn't listening to him and
Carson knew 1t. He had gone quickly
to the telephone, had rung the one
bell for Central" and a moment later
was speaking with Sandy Weaver Of
the Golden Spur saloon. Carson
sucked at his pipe and kept his eyes
on Lees face.
The ensuing conversation, only one
side Of which came to Carson, was
brief. Most Of the talking was done
by Sandy Weaver. Lee asked three
questions; the third a simple:
"Sure of 1t, Sandy?"
Then he jammed the receiver back
upon its hook, and with no remark
continued his hurried dressing. When
he had come in, his face had been
flushed; now 1t was suddenly red, the
hot red Of rage. His eyes, when they
met Carson's once, were stern, bright
with the same quick anger. When he
had drawn on his working garb and
stuffed his trousers into his boots, he
went to his bunk and tossed back the
blanket. From the straw mattress he
took a heavy, old-style Colt revolver.
Carson, still watching him, saw him
spin the cylinder, slip box Of fresh
cartridges into his pocket and turn
to the door.
Riding, Bud?" He got to his feet,
stuffed his pipe into his pocket and
reached for his hat. "Care If /
mosey along?"
What for?" asked Lee curtly.
"Oh, hi, what's the use being a
hawg" Carson grumbled deep down
in his brown throat. "If you're on
your way to little OIL Rocky hunting
trouble, if they's going to be shooting
fun, why can't you let me in on itP"
Lee stood a moment framed in the
doorway, frowning down at Carson.
Then he turned on his heel and went
out, saying coolly over his shoulder:
"Come on if you want to. Quin-
MONS in town."
AS their horses hoofs hammered
the winding road for the forty miles
into Rocky Bend the two riders were
for the most part silent. All Of the
explanation which Lee had to give, or
cared to give, was summed up in the
brief words: "Quinnion's in town."
To Judith, Lee had said that night
they fought together at the Upper
End that he had recognized Quinnion's
voice; II played poker with that voice
not four months ago." That he had
had ample reason to remember the
man as well, he had not gone on to
mention. But Carson knew.
Carson had sat at Lees left hand
that night, across the table from Chris
Quinnion, and had seen the look Of
naked hatred in two pairs of eyes
when Lee had risen to his feet and
coolly branded Quinnion as a crook
and a card sharp. For little the two
men had glared at each other, their
muscles corded and. ready, thalF ak1a