The Coolidge examiner., 1932-11-25

Its gay love song. He wondered II
he would be alive tomorrow to hear
that rising lit and cadence.
The ping of bullet whistled
past. He ducked instinctively. From
clump OF bushes three hundred
yards away a puff Of smoke thinned
into the clear air. He watched
that brush screen, but not steadily,
since his glance had to sweep the
whole field OF vision in front and
discover any suspicious object or
any slightest unusual motion of veg
citation.
Those surrounding him were all
old-timers except Jasper Stark. and
he had been brought up on the from
tier. Wilson understood what that
implied. They would take no un-
necessary chances. would make use
OF their knowledge of the terrain to
get him at a disadvantage II pos
sible. The business of exterminat-
Ing him might take many hours,
but they were prepared 10 attend
TO II efficiently without undue loss.
He held strong defensive posi-
ton in the sand pit flanked by
boulders. That there would be no
attempt to rush him out OF ii by
a frontal attack in the open he was
convinced.
The development of the days
campaign proved his conclusion a
correct one. After the first shot
there was no other for at least an
hour. 1t was quite likely that the
man who had located his position
was communicating with the rest.
Waiting was nerve-racking
strain. The silence was ominous,
yet every little rustling of twigs
suggested that a foe might be lurk-
ing in the bushes there. His alert
gaze continuously swept the land
scape. Every bush of greasewood,
every clump OF mesquite fell under
MS keen OUseTNdllOn.
squirt OF sand flew up beside
him. He caught sight for a mo-
ment Of a face peering over the
edge of a rock and flung back in
stantly a bullet in answer to the
one intended for him. The face
was withdrawn.
From the right shot sounded,
and another from the left. They
were fired from invisible rifles by
invisible foes. Wilson shifted mis-
position few yards to get out of
sight behind two fiat-faced boulders.
The sun climbed higher. By noon
the attackers had worked Wilson
out Of the sand pit and driven him
from rock TO rock. he had fired per-
haps eight or nine times, usually
without actually seeing the persons
at whom he shot. So far as he knew
none OF his bullets had scored a
hit. His enemies were not taking
chances. Their intention evidently
was to force him from the cover
Of the rocks and pick him off as
he lodged for the chaparral. The
plan was one very likely to succeed.
McCann judged.
By mid-afternoon II came on TO
rain mistlly. He had reached the
edge of the boulder field and with
In a few minutes must have been
dislodged from his last stand in IL.
The rain gave him a respite.
He slipped deeper into the rock
field. moving warily so as not to be
caught unprepared. What the out
laws would do under the circum-
stances was uncertain. but he
guessed they would follow him to
the open expecting him to make a
run for his life across the valley.
Not fifty feet from him. on the
other side of ledge of rock,
revolver doomed. He crouched.
every sense keyed up, nerves taut.
A moan came to him followed by
a cruel laugh.
You've got yores, Jas Stark" he
heard a remembered voice say.
Thought you'd fix 1t for yorself by
givin' us away, didn't you? I'll learn
you to try to play traitor with Carl
Gitner."
Swiftly Wilson clambered up the
rock ledge and looked over. The big
Texan was standing straddled over
the man he had just shot down and
was sneering al him.
You always was a white-livered
coyote, Jas, an you got what was
comm to you. When they find
yore body. if they ever do. they'll
think wills McCann bumped you
off. I'm figurin' on gettin' him too
muy pronto."
From his place on the shelf above
Wilson spoke in low hard voice.
Then get busy, you murderer, an
come a-shootin'."
Gitner looked up, snarling. The
eyes of the two met in deadly CON-
bat for a fraction of a second be
fore the revolyers began to roar
OF the number of shots fired Will
son lost count. In the smoke he
saw the face of the Texan, distorted
with rage and pain, sinking down