Carolina watchman. [volume] (Salisbury, N.C.) 1871-1937, 1936-07-03

gardless of what those facts might
be. He faced them now. Spelle
had told the truth. The Cattle
mans Bank of Carillion was on the
narrow edge. True, Star5usk held
mortgages that would more than
put him on his feet should he sell
them out. But this, according to
IStarbuck's standards, would be
breaking faith with men he had
known all his life and who trusted
him. Still he had to have money
cash. There was only one thing to
do. He would ride around to the
different cattle outfits and put his
squarely up to the owners.
They all stood to stand or fall to-
gether. If they could somehow
help his bank to weather through
they would have Spelle whipped.
If they didn't-Starbuck sighed,
reached for his hat and went out
into the street.
The little cowtown of CARLTON
was browsing in the heat Of mid
afternoon. The single, dusty street
lay white and glaring in the sun,
and was deserted save for a bare
foot Mexican or two and a pair of
cow-ponies slouching at the hitch
ing rail before Jake Butterfield's
Emporium. Starbuck angled across
the street towards the livery stable
and corral at the northern end of
town.
A few moments later he emerged
from the livery stable, leading a
saddle horse. He swung into the
saddle and heated south along the
street. Ae he did so two %punchers
clanked out of Butterfield's and
forked the two cow-poines. They
also headed south. The horses of
the W strangers looked somewhat
faded and Starbuck soon overlook
them. The elder of the riders
looked up. He was a wiry, leathery
faced man, past middle age; clean
shaven and with innumerable
wrinkles about the corners of his
mouth and eyes. The mouth SEEM
ed harsh yet a humorous quirk
fingered about it somehow. The
eyes were clear, fleckles gray, cap
able of either warmth or abysmal
chill. The wide, weather beaten
sombrero rested on a name of silv-
cry hair. One of the real old tim
ers, decided Starbuck.
The other rider was young, some
where in his early twenties. Well
set up, with flat muscled, power
full shoulders. His face was smooth
and tanned, his eyes blue, his hair
curly and brown. Gay, sparkling
lay over him like a mantle.
A clean lusty, carefree kid, in love
with life and hungering for all its
Their clothes were Those
of the range, worn but substantial.
Both carried a heavy gun, tslung at
the right hip.
The elder of the two nodded to
Starbuck.
"Howdy," he drawled. wonder
could yuh show us the trail to the
Box D OF fit? Gent back in the
store told us mebbe they could use a
couple of hands out there"
Sure" replied Starbuck. "Glad
to. Fact is I'm riding out there
myself. Glad to have company"
"You amt San Juan Delevan by
any chance?"
"No. I'm Ed Starbuck. l own
the Cattleman's Bank, back in
town."
"Shore Pm glad to know yuh.
I'm Tex Whipple. This chuckle-
haided cub is Johnny Clehoe. Kid,
shake hands with Mister Starbuck.'
Introductions over, the three
steadily south. Tex and
rode side by side while
Johnny brought up the rear, gaz-
ing with lazy eyes over the heat
shimmered sage.
"That big plateau straight ahead
is the Box D range" said Starbuck
presently. Zone of the finest hold
ings in the country. Lots of water,
fine pasture and a stand of pine
trees what gives the lie to this
damned desert. I shore envy ole,
San Juan, Twin up among those
cool trees"
Runs a pretty good spread, does
asked Tex.
yeah. Ordinarily, it's Al. He's
had some hard luck lately though.
Two months ago he was dr;v;n' !