The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1940-03-07

with a grudge. But that's got to
i be proved, and I'm going away
to do it. If I can't, you won't see
me again. But if I can"
He gripped her fingers sudden
ly. Hope and despair fought in a
| moment of numbling pressure.
Then she felt a light, quick touch
on her hear, and Lee was gone.
Lee rode first to Joey's cabin.
Joey had known Matt for years,
and Matt had loved and trusted
the irascible, loyal old man. Joey
listened, at first with excitement
over the matter of the deed, and
then with stupefied amazement.
"Why-why, Lee!" he suffered,
and then broke into a fury OF de-
nunciation. cts a lie! told We
he was no good I knowed he was
layin' for we
Eyes, Joey, but that won't help
me prove it isn't true"
Joey's fury died. 81 know, Lee"
he said shakenly. "Jes' believin'
things amt proof, is it? An I
can't help we. I just came back
from a trip one time an found
We here. He was kinda close
mouthed about we, Matt was"
Every line of the old mans fl
cure sagged under this new ca
lamity.
ooh, we'll, never mind, Joey.
I'll run it down."
"Where we goin', Lee?"
"I'm going to find that Mexi-
can village if I have to work my
way from one end of the border
to the other. But first I want to
locate Lawler and Slanty Gano.
Goodbye, Joey. Take care of Vir-
ginia."
In the shelter of distant thic-
ket Slanty Gano, keeping watch
over the Valley of the Sun, saw
a distant figure ride away from
the ranch house. It disappeared
presently in the mouth of Joey's
ravine, came out again later and
rode on. That was Lee HOLSTER,
heading toward Turkey Gulch.
Slanty crept out from his hid
ing place and lodged cautiously
back to the hollow where his
horse was picketed.
Lee rode on, unaware of that
stealthy movement. Somewhere
above him the crack of a rifle
came. His head jerked toward the
sound, and down again. He
swayed slowly, cropping with his
hand, and then toppled and slid
down.
Minutes passed. There was no
further sound of movement, no
sign of life but Lee Hollister' IS
patient horse standing by a
sprawling, inert body.
Slanty waited a little longer,
assured himself that his horse
was we'll screened from observa-
ton, hid his rifle in thicket and
went cautiously down to where
his victim lay.
Slanty bent down and jerked
the fallen man over on his back
and felt for a sign of life.
It was there, a faint, tired stir.
Hard to kill, amt we? Well,
I'm fixin' We this time. Les see
what's on we, first"
Something crisp and cracking
answered Slanty's marauding
paw.
There were two letters from
Matt Blair-he scowled sus-
piciously at these-a snapshot of
Virginia-he snickered coarsely
and legal looking paper. A
deed. Slanty's eyes bulged.
"I'll make Bradish pay high
for this"
He started to put the deed in
his pocket and caught sight of
something on the folded paper.
It was the smeared imprint of a
bloody thumb. Slanty scowled
and glared at his hand. His ir-
ritation at this mishap made him
that much rougher as he drag
ged the unconscious man upward
and heaved him over the saddle
of the waiting horse.
Midway of the gulch he turned,
gliding like a snake, and led
Birthstone up toward a ragged
black hole. the mouth of Matt
Blair's Bonanza mine.
In forty-five seconds there was
no sign of Slanty Gano or Lee
HOLSTER, and a riderless horse,
with the sting of a lash on his
flanks, was trotting swiftly down
Turkey Gulch.
Inside the tunnel, Slanty jerk
ed the limp body over his should
er and headed deeper into the
mine. Some distance in, where
the way seemed entirely block