Carbon County news., 1937-11-26

thing come into his head. Every
sign we got points to the fact thai
Lon Magoon was killed, in his owr
saddle, and on his own horse, and
at Short Crick."
I'm thinking now," said Billy
Wheeler, that we can prove that
one way or the other-right here
and now."
"How?"
"We've stil got his saddle,
haven't WEI"
''It's still under my bunk"
'Let me see it,"
Horse Dunn stared at him irrita-
bly, for a moment, then picked up a
lamp with jerk, and led the way to
the clean bare room in which he
lived. By the yellow light of the
lamp the fine old saddles on their
racks against the wall glinted clean
ly from silverwork and steel. Dunn
sat down on a box and hooked his
elbows on the table behind him.
Horse, how big a man is this
Lon Magoon? About my size?"
Hell, no! Not by eight inches.
Little short wiry feller-put you in
mind Of grasshopper, or a f1ea."
Wheeler hauled out Magoon's sad
die. Billy measured the length of
the stirrup leather with his arm
stirrup in armpit, fingers upon the
tree.
II stand five-eleven," Wheeler
said. "Yet these stirrups are too
long for me to ride. Horse, the
man that rode this saddle was over
six feet tall"
Horse came across the room in
two strides and dropped to one knee
beside Billy. Damn it, I know
that's Magoon'S hull!"
"You mean it was Magoon's hull.
You can see the short-rig bends
worn into the stirrup feathers. But
since then the feathers have been
let down long, and laced there with
rawhide whang."
Horse Dunn measured the stirrup
feathers against his own arm. Then
he forked the saddle where it lay,
jamming his feet into the stirrups.
''Tall as me-" he breathed, unbe-
lieving. He stared at the saddle in
credulously for several moments.
"Do you reckon" he said at last,
"that internal old lion hunter would
let down those stirrups, just to get
us balled up?"
'Took at the wear on the stirrup
leather. The saddle has been rid
den since the stirrups were let
down."
Horse Dunn got up slowly and |
went back to his seat on they box. |
For a long time he sat staring; at |
the floor. When at last he drew a !
deep breath and got up, his move
ments were those Of a man pre-
occupied.
He got out a roll of adhesive tape,
pulled off a boot and woolen sock,
and began to tape up the outside of
his ankle bone, which appeared to
be skinned. 1--WE got to take a
hammer to those spurs," he said,
his mind on other things. Seems
like they"
"Horse-Coffee was right! The
man that died in this saddle was not
Lon Magoon."
Suddenly Dunn stood up, shag-
gy towering figure, staring redly at
Billy Wheeler. ''Then, in Gods
name, who's dead?"
Wheeler regarded him without ex-
preston. Within the hour, shad-
owy hunch had come over him. He |
knew that he had no proof for the |
thing that was in his mind; yet |
somehow it stood clear and plain. He |
went to the fireplace, and picked up |
an old branding iron that had been |
in use as fire poker. He squatted |
on his heels, and with this sooty iron
began to make marks on Dunn's |
clean-swept floor.
Saying that the "a is here" he |
said, marking a cross, land Short !
Crick over here; then hero lies that
broken badlands called the Red
Sleep. Seems to me there used to
be a trail across the Red Sleep,
leading over to Pahranagat.
Eyes, sure. But
Horse Dunn waited; Billy Wheeler
studied the floor. Where would a
man be coming from, passing over
Short Crick toward the "a? Maybe
Pahranagat?"
Could" Horse admitted dubious.
ly.
THAT little railroad spur ends
there"
Sometimes" Horse Dunn made
a sudden contribution. Lion Ma.
COON has shipped few stolen beef
out of Pahranagat."
Wheeler nodded. From Pahran.
agat the spur runs down the Little
Minto to Plunas. then-let me
see"
Cheat Creek, Monitor, Skies
Dunn supplied; land so
% the main stem."
And so to the main stem,"
Wheeler repeated. And maybe an
,ld-timer, a saddle man, working to-
ward the "a by train, would figure
was better to come by Pahrana- 1
there nick I'm a horsn7" ,