Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1925-10-07

guy, I've put in my ante. Don't crab
the party on me here. I'm"
Fixed? Oh, are you? Well, you
liked with the wrong person-that
stuff doesn't go! Step fast or"
"Pete!" The mans voice had a new
note in it, one of sudden excitement,
and hanger-on hurried to his side
There's something wrong here. This
guy needs shown where to get off at
60 get Franniston-quick!"
"Franniston is it?" A thin smile
appeared on the lips of Bart Rogers.
We'll, in the meanwhile, you'll come
along with me-"
A lurching push and showing the
gambler a step or two ahead of him,
he started toward the jail Ten min
utes later he had turned the heavy
key and was looking through the bars
at his prisoner. Then he went to the
front entrance, to await the arrival
of the enemy. Nor was the wait a
long one.
Five minutes passed. Then the
sound of steps from around the cor
ner. Bart squared his shoulders for
the conflict, and pulled his holster into
a position in which it could be reached
with ease. A moment more
"Bull' Franniston faced him, a
slight appearance of surprise on his
countenance.
"Oh, it's you, huh?" he announced.
I'D heard there was a new marshal
down here" Then siding closer, he
adopted a paternal air of almost
friendship. you've got one of my
boys in there"
"SoT" Bart Rogers expressed neither
interest nor the lack of it. 81 think
you're mistaken. The only person I've
got in there is a tin-horn three-shell
worker He's not the boy you mean,
Is hep"
Bull Franniston's face blackened
and his heavy arms swung slowly. He
started to move step closer-then
stopped. Bart's hand had gone quietly
to his holster.
"You don't, eh?" The black, thick
eyebrows raised in question. "Going
to get real rough, eh?''
I'm going to clean up this town."
"You-and who else?"
"Oh, deputy or two. Now, listen,
Mr.. Franniston'-and Bart lost his
bantering manner-"Pve heard your
name mentioned good deal in connec-
ton with the gambling and bootleg
gfng that's going on here. They seem
to look on you as a sort of a boss. If
that's so, little talk between US may
save little trouble. I'm giving the
rough-neck element just "a hours to
get out Of town, and the same thing
goes for that tented camp of women,
that's sprung up just east of the town."
If you've taken any money on the pre-
tense that you can protect these per-
sOns-Pd advise you to give it back
"All right boy" came the answer
go to it-and see how far you get I"
Then whirling swiftly, Bull" Fran,
niston turned again toward town, while
Bart watched him wonderingly. The
man had threatened, yet he practically
had acknowledged defeat. He had
come to the Jail building determined,
apparently, to release the man he
sought, yet departed almost after his
first unsuccessful effort. Until he
was lost in the surging mob of the
main street did Rogers follow him with
his eyes, half expecting him to return
with a fresh demand or new
threat. But an hour passed-without
sight of him.
What did the absence and the 81.
lence mean? Could it mean that he
was closeted up there in the cold Of
fee Of Leon Barrows-with the damp
appearing man whom Old Jim had &C
cused Of travelling under an assumed
name-perhaps arranging some intri-
cate legal method for the defeating of
Bart's purposes? Rogers knew only
one line of action, the straightforward
attack, and with a sudden resolve, he
swung down the steps and headed to-
ward the Office of the attorney.
But no one was there. In vain Bart
knocked on the door and tried the knob.
1t did not yield. Listening brought
no sound of voices from within. 1t was
more than evident that Leon Barrows
still was dallying with his new hobby,
the experimenting of the work of
erecting rigs and machinery out at the
land which Bart Rogers once had
called his own-and that the law bust
ness was suffering as a result.
He turned down the steps again and
into the main street. Then, shifting
his belt in preparation for a resump-
ton of his task, he started again upon
his interrupted mission. A yelping
squawking scotch" show was his first
objective. At the ticket stand a col
larless man. talking in low, yet pen
etrating voice, was telling In cnnfden-
tial manner Of the lecherous perform
ance to be seen beyond the canvas
sidewalling. Bart approached him, In
terrupting: "Youll have to close this
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