The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1932-07-29

don't hear, Jas. A few of 'em are
curly wolves. Leastways they've got
that rep"
"You scared of 'em, Dave?"
Jasper was alarmed at his own ques-
ton. His eyes fell before the chill
steady regard of the little man.
After a moment the Texan spoke.
His words lessened the tension. II
reckon my six-gun will have to talk
for me when the times comes. JAS"
After some time of rapid refresh
ment at the bar the Circle Cross riders
moved out again to the main street of
the little town. Stone had already de-
parted temporarily to buy shirt. Git
ner and Phil Stark had business at the
blacksmith shop. Jasper strolled
across to Basford's for the mail. In
side. he caught glimpse of the little
Texan at the dry goods counter.
Public opinion, represented by Quinn.
Shell, and others, still sat on the
porch and awaited developments. 1t
watched Jasper Stark now to see whar
he would do about the placard on. the
wall. 1t had watched Stone, too. The
Texan had read it with an expression
less face and offered no comment.
Jasper swelled. evidently steaming
up to blow off. He could not resist
taking the center of the stage. In the
safe middle states he might have been
ward boss. Unfortunately for him
leadership in the Southwest demanded,
first of all. gameness. He was al
ways trying to fill place he had not
the stark courage to hold.
limp! Wants information, does he?
An he'll pay thousand dollars.
What's he aim TO do with his informa-
ton when he gets it?"
Jasper's voice was heavy. his man.
ner abusive as he turned to Quinn.
The cattleman did not look at him.
His expressionless eyes were on
cloud of dust far down the road ribbon.
A rider was cantering toward Mesa.
"Why, he didn't tell me, JAS Yore
guess is as good as mine," Quinn an
swered evenly.
Jasper was "wilding up," as Simp
Shell expressed it later. He was full
of bad whisky and a sense of his own
Importance He strutted, moving up
and down the porch as he boosted
Don't amount to hill of beans,
this don't" The drink-eXcited man
snapped his fingers contemporary at
the poster. Say he knew. What
then? What then?"
His back was toward the man COM
ing down the road. If he had been
observant he might have seen an odd
change in the gray eyes of Quinn,
flicker of subdued and wary excite
ment.
"I'll show Peter Mccain where he
gets off, Stark went on, vanity over
riding caution. "I'll sure learn that
hombre not to run on the rope." He
took two swift strides forward and
with one sweeping gesture ripped the
reward placard from the wall. Tear
ing the paper into fragments, he flung
them down and ground them under his
heel.
At the same instant a rider pulled
up in front of the store and swung
from the saddle. Stark turned, the
anger he had worked up burning in
him.
On the lower step man was stand
ing, his quirt dangling by the loop
from his wrist.
Under his ribs the heart of Jasper
Stark died within him. For the man
looking at him was Wilson Mccain.
He had feeling as though the ground
were falling from his feet, shocked
certainty that he had been delivered
into the hand of his enemy. His arm
made a motion toward the revolver at
his side, hesitant and indefinite ges-
ture.
Don't youi" warned Mccain.
Stark dropped his hand. In his eyes
was the look of the trapped rat. His
brother and Gitner were nearly half
mile away, but Stone was here, not
| twenty yards from him. The Texan
would pump lead into Mccain if he
got gay. With the thought came re-
surgence of courage. He had nothing
| to fear.
His voice was loud, to attract the at
tention of his companion. You'll pull
yore freight, Wills Mccain, If you
know what's good for you. Get me.
POGO tempo"
Mccain came up the steps toward
him, evenly and without haste. There
was that in his face at which Jasper
took alarm.
keep back. Hear me? Keep back,
or I'll" Jasper retreated to the door.
his voice rising to shrek. Don't
you dass lay hand on me-"
His enemy plucked him from the
shelter of the store as though he had
been a child. The quirt in the hand
of Mccain rose and fell, rose and fell
again. Jasper cursed, threatened.
wept. He called to Stone for help,
tried to break away from that iron
grip and escape, did all he could to
save himself except stand up and fight.
The swinging lash burned like rope
of fire. The tortured man howled in
agony and begged shamelessly for
| mercy.
He flung himself to the floor and
Mccain released him. The man with
the quirt was painting from his exer-
tons. He looked down scornfully at
| the quivering mass of wheals at his
| feet.
You'll learn to-let my fathers
| placards alone. Understand? An not
to shoot at me from the brush, you
id jayhawker."
Mccain looked up. From the win
! dows, from the door, from both sides
| of him the eyes Of silent men were
| focused upon him and Stark. Against