Nogales international., 1936-08-22

Sensing a death hight, the croWd
pressed in. They forgot the table
scahold and the man who stood
there with a moose about his neck.
Only Lefty had a glimpse Of the
bound boot ankles wrenching fierce
ly against the rope. =.
The craning spectators saw that
Fallon had sunk his fingers in the
Youngsters throat. The crowd
grunted and turned rigid as Matt
land suddenly sagged, falling back
ward with Fallon's weight clamping
his neck to the floor, and the mans
great fist sledging his face and head.
The boys destruction looked GER
tain for one desperate minute. His
hands caught his assailant in grip
ping hold at the waist and with a
lift and a heave of one knee he
twisted free.
Streaming blood, Maitland reeled
to his feet. He swung with a NOR
tai concentration, one smash after
another, back and still back to the
Aimsy side-wall of boarded canvas,
which gave with a terrific crash as
their combined weight struck the
wood. Some of his men started
across the floor to his aid, while
the crowd still hovered, mute and
still, with it's eyes on that seemingly
Gfeless form of Maitland.
Out of that silence, sudden,
leaping voice cut the air like a
whip crack.
Back away from him, you buzz
yards, and stay clear of my track!
I'm a-headin' through this pack and
sure come loadedp'
Every eye froze in gaping, para
lyzed CONSERVATION at the man on
the gibbet table. The moose was
gone from his neck; his feet were
free; six-shooter cleaned in each
hand and under one arm something
else burned with a sizzling baleful
sputter. Dynamite!
"Crash"-roared a gun, and one
of Soapy's hanging lamps fell in
splinters.
Speed shifted the stick with the
burning fuse to his mouth, and
gripped it between his teeth as a
second and third gun blast at the
lamps plunged the room in half
darkness Then with his face lit by
the flare of the shortening fuse he
leaped to the floor.
The crowd jumped as if dynamite
itself had lifted them.
They smashed their own exits
through the sidewalks in frenzied
rush for the outer air.
Maitland lay alone by the break
in the wall. Fallon had dragged
himself away. Returning one gun
to his belt, Speed pulled Maitland's
body across the smooth floor to the
front entrance. He emerged on the
empty landing, a step above the
lighted street, which was the scene
of a wildly scattering stampede,
There he paused, framing his next
move.
1t was now his turn to see a
miracle, or what he would have
called natural" A rider with
two frightened pinto horses in tow
came clear of the mob. Pete, riding
the black mare with foaming rein,
was shouldering and backing the
broncos in to the platform. It was
a superb feat of horsemanshin,
Speed took the "break" as readily
as if he had expected it. He dropped
his partner across its back. and
fastened him there In another in
slant he detached the halter line of
the second bronco. Mounting. he
curbed its plunging close to Pete's
stirrup, while he held the dynamite
stick away from the mares head.
The fuse was burning close.
up the river canyon, Pete" he
said, "and don't pull in till I hail
ye"
A quirt bit the bronco's flank: its
flying start matched the mares leap
as Pete leaned close to the black
neck, holding the pinto's head and
riding both horses as one. They
flashed through the cheouered
street lights and vanished in a
drumming of hooves.
Speed checked his own rearing
mount. wheeled it sidelong on its
hind legs, to block any threat of
pursuit. Then, with a measured
glance at the crowd. be tossed the