The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1932-07-15


dy. Meet Mr.. Wilson McCann," he
said hardly, and there was a jeer
in his voice.
All those present knew him, but in
the darkness, screened by his horse,
they had not recognized him. His an
nouncement made little ominous stir.
Competent hands moved quietly to ba
ready for an emergency.
The owner of the Circle Cross looked
at him steadily without speaking.
"What are you doing here?" he de-
manded at last abruptly.
"Why, / came to bring a message
two of 'em in fact, Mr.. Stark"
mot interested" the old man re-
torted brusquely.
"Still, I'll deliver 'em now I'm herr.
First is that yore no-count jayhawkin'
son bushwhacked me up there in the
pass an skedaddled to save his hide
after he'd sent a couple blue whistlers
at me-"
The cattleman turned to his son.
"How about that, Jas?"
There were weakness and vice In the
face Of young Jasper Stark, slackness
in the jaw. He answered sulkily: II
didn't aim to kill him-shot to warn
him to turn back"
THAT was why you fired at me
again while 1 was maxim for cover,
was it?" Mccain asked with little
skeptical laugh of scorn.
'Tha's a lie. The second shot was
when you plugged at me-"
The rider from the Flying V Y uli-
buckled his belt and handed it TO
Matthew STARK. Look at my gun an
see who's a liar. All the chambers
are loaded"
The old man broke the revolver, en-
amined it. and returned it to it's owner.
Don't prove thing. Like as not
you reloaded it,
"While my boss was hittin' the high
spots tryin' to catch that lobe WOLF"
the son of Peter Mccain suggested
with obvious sarcasm.
Stark carried the war into the ene-
my's country. you got a nerve to
talk about bushwhackin' after what
you did to pore Tom McArdle," he
burst out angrily.
The young mans answer was In,
slant. tom McArdle would be alive
today if he hadn't died till Flying
Wy rider killed him."
Don't tell that to me. know you
an all yore lying breed" Stark flung
out bitterly. 'Tm tellin' you that I'd
as soon put faith in a yellow coyote
as in any Mccain ever born. An I'm
sendin word to Pete Mccain that
there's a day comm when I'll settle
with interest a-plenty for what he did
to McArdle. Now fork that fuzzy an
light out. 1 don't want you here"
"What about that gunplay up in the
pass?"
sit goes as it stands. The boys
story suits me-"
Different here, an I'm liable to tell
him so when we meet again." Mccain
said boldly.
The old mans eyes blazed. Like
to tell him now maybeY'
The Flying Wy rider looked from
Stark to the men waiting tensely for
the word or the lift of hand that
would serve as an order to begin hos
tilities His lip curled in an ironic
smile. Not now. gentlemen"
"Then hit the dust pronto"
Don't get on the prod, Mr.. Stark.
I haven't onloaded that second mes
sage yet. It's from yore daughter
"From Jule?"
Wilson could see that the old cattle
man had been struck to instant ap-
prehension.
"She sent word by me to tell you
that she'd be home late. | saw her up
at old Jim Yerby's He's broke his
leg. The docs On the way there now.
You're not to send for her, Miss Stark
says; she'll come with Doc Sanders
when he leaves Yerby's place."
Mccain swung without any haste
to the saddle, glanced coolly from one
to another of the watch4ul silent men,
and headed Jim-Dandy toward lineup
Pass.
To the men of the Circle Cross, still
watching him as he disappeared, there
came back the haunting rhythm Of a
cowboy song:
Roll yore tail, and roll her high,
Wen all be angels by an by.
fTo BE CONTINUED,