The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1942-03-12

"Dance!" Con informed him, grin
ming. 81 peeped into one dance
hall awhile ago and there was
pretty blonde girl there who smiled
at me and I think she's just cut out
to teach a pore cowboy how to
chouse his new boots around"
He shrugged and Caramba nodded
agreement.
Con drifted toward the dance
halls, when he and Caramba had
fed their horses. In the Odeon he
found the blonde girl he had noted
before supper. She was pretty and
danced well, but when Con began to
collect cigars after his second drink,
she left him for easier prey.
On the sidewalk outside the Odeon
he looked across at the rival dance
hall, decided against it and went on
to the Drovers'. Badly was nowhere
in sight and for a little while Con
watched the several games played.
He saw Dynamite Downes and Asa
Brock drinking. The buyer went
out and a towheaded youngster in
all the glory of cowboy dude
pushed in beside the marshal. One
of the cowboys near Con indicated
the white-hatted, kid-booted, boy.
GEL Muchacho-and that's muir
der on the road to happen! Him, I
mean. Comes from down below the
River. He's deputy marshal and
his killings is legalized before they
come off, He shot one man here
just for brushing against him."
Con nodded. He was watching
Nevil Lowe walk in.
Downes and Muchacho continued
to face the bar mirror and drink.
But Asa Brock appeared from some
where as if he had been watching
for Nevil Lowe. His red face was
twisted in a grin and he took Lowe
by the arm and this time they went
together to the bar. That cowboy
who had identified the deputy mar
shall for Con shook his head.
''Sick Asa's got him another
shorthorn," he said sourly. ''By
morning there'n be another hide "a
Tapping on the Brock fence. That
fellows got some of the best looking
half-blood horses ever put covet-
ing eye on, too. Well"
He moved on to the faro bank and
Con looked at the pile of ten pin al
ley equipment. When he turned to
the bar again, Brock was talking
earnestly to Lowe, waving his
hands. Lowe, smiling, shook his
head. Brock continued to talk as
they left the bar and came toward
the row of thick pillars which di-
vided the barroom. But he gave
up whatever persuasions he was
trying and waddled off, when Lowe
shook his head.
Lowe stood staring around. Con
studied him, from where he stood
beside heap of bowling balls. Then
from the bar came the deputy mar
shall, Muchacho. He came up to
Lowe and from under the wide brim
of his white Stetson narrowed blue
eyes surveyed the taller man up
and down. When Muchacho lifted
his left hand from the belt and
reached toward loves coat, Con
held his breath.
Lowe swayed back slightly, avoid
ing the hand. Muchaco's grin wild
ened. His right hand twisted slight
ly and closed on the butt of a Colt.
Con looked vaguely about him.
Then he stopped quickly, picked up
one of the bowling balls and sent it
expertly across twenty feet of floor
to crash into Muchacho's ankles and
send him spinning, sprawling.
loves hand jerked up under his
coat and came out with a pistol.
From the bar Dynamite Downes
plunged out. He had a pistol in
each hand.
zone for you'll" Con snarled, pick
ing up second ball.
Downes gaped at the ball hurting
toward him, hesitated, stiffened as
for a jump, but was too slow. The
ball struck warped place in the
floor, jumped and cannoned into his
thigh. He sat down, dropping one pis-
toll, and fired the other jerkily.
Men were yelling and the Drovers'
was darkening, shot by shot. Con
put a hand on the window sill,
vaulted out and ran down the side
| wall.
Horses were tied at a rack be-
hind the Drovers' and he unhitched
one quickly. He swung into the
strange saddle and turned the horse.
Inside the Drovers' was pandemo.