The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1939-12-14

deep canyons and thruStlng OUT
gaunt promontories of rock. At
the southwestern end the ranch
buildings lay, low and pleasantly
struggling.
Lees eyes warmed as he looked
down. There was no place like it.
1t was good to be back again, to
slip in this way and surprise Matt.
Good old Matt Virginia would be
home, too, once more a rancher's
girl, after the years of travel and
fashionable schools that an indul-
gent father had given her.
The warmth vanished in a puz-
zled frown. Over on the left his
ranging eye had caught sight OF
a wide ugly slash on the timber
ed slope. That was odd. Timber
was too valuable to- be wasted.
Matt never cut that way. That
strip was wastefully cut, with
high stumps like the snapped-off
masts of a wrecked ship. Lees
sharpened glance flicked toward
the valley again. Down there he
had seen a small bunch of cattle
perhaps fifty or sixty. That also
was unusual. The Circle V cattle
always ranged the hills at this
! time of the year.
Lee wheeled his horse abruptly,
retraced his way for a short dis
lance and started zigzagglng
downward.
The slope dropped abruptly,
with sharp turns and jutting angl-
es, and talus that slid beaneath his
horses feet. Over to the right a
black hole yawned. That was the
mouth of the old Bonanza mine,
long since abandoned, where one
lucky gold pocket had given Matt
Blair and his partner their first
start and had brought hordes of
other men to stake claims.
That hillside had echoed once to
the sound of voices, the blows of
picks and the sullen boom of
blasting, as men burrowed feveri-
silly for the gold that was never
found again.
Matt owned it all now, not Sc
,,o,,ob for tic 11o111o- wouldn't
have brought twenty cents an acre
but because it was a relic of the
old days.
The old Bonanza was behind
Lee, the last steep turn Of the
trail brought him into small
/ gorge. Lee suddenly gave
scarcely audible grunt.
A man was coming toward him,
riding close to the fringe of cedar,
as if keeping out of view. He was
big, loosely built man, with a
long, wolfish face and bulky
shoulders. His stare Of recogni-
ton carried a swift surprise and
flare Of something else, quick
ly hidden. Then he rode forward
with a grin which showed dis
colored teeth.
Hello, Lee. You back?"
Looks like it. Hello. Slanty."
The reply was civil, and no
more. Lee HOLSTER did not like
Slanty Gano and Slanty knew it.
He was shifty and evasive, as obi
que in his methods as in his name.
| A good worker when he wanted to
be, he was too lazy and quarrel
some to hold any job long, and
usually shifted for himself in a
cabin back in the hills.
Lees eyes dwelt on him with an
impersonal regard.
Riding for the Circle w"
''Not for that outfit" The grin
became a sheer. "I'm hiring other
folks to work for me- Want a
job?"
sNo." The laconic answer ignor-
ed Slanty's evident desire to be
offensive and betrayed not the
slightest interest in life Slanty's
eyes took on malevolence.
I'm looking for strays," he ex-
planned with sly insolence. Been
missing 'em pretty regular, late
ly."
Better not look in the wrong
place, Slanty. Other peoples
brands don't stay on the Circle
""
Black eyes and greenish ones
met and measured each other. The
greenish ones Wavered.
"Jest as touchy as ever, amt
we, Lee? Well, I'll take yore word
for it, this time, So long; I've got
work to do"
He wheeled with a savage rake
of spurs and was off.
Lee looked after him specula-
lively. Slanty must have been up
to something, or he. would not
have given ground so easily. Too
easily. It would not hurt to keep
an eye on Slanty, but for the pre-
sent Lee had more urgent bust
ness in hand. He turned and rode