The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1942-04-30
CHAPTER TX

Con rode at the easy lope back t,
The cottonWoods. Catfish went yer,
willingly. The moment he was on
Of sight, Con ventured to start tn,
horses back on the trail over which
they had been driven.
IT there was pursuit, it missed hin
that day. He slept on a hill tina
night, ate breakfast the next day
near four of the afternoon, at {
Mexican house forty miles from the
MI. His Spanish helped; and hi
took a great deal of pains to make
himself simpatico with the womer
and children encountered.
Ragged, unshaven, he felt safe IL
riding into Quincy and having e
few drinks at the Palace. There
were enough rough customers In
the county seat to cover him. Talk
at the bar and around the gaming
tables informed him that, since their
failure at the MI, the Paramores
had been very quiet.
When he rode away from Quincy,
ne was barbered, wearing new shirt
and overalls, well-fed. Los Alamos
clubhouse held him for nearly a
week. Lit Taylor was selling some
LA horses and Con rode in place of
an injured peeler. He could have
had job, but even as Twenty
Johnson he felt nervous. Lit paid
him off with faint grin, if grave
voice.
Nearing Tivan Con went more
cautiously, watching from the high
lines Ike any lobo wolf, keeping out
Of sight when rider showed. So he
came back to the Lobos and to San
Marcos. 1t seemed at least a year
since he had last been here.
Only the browsing population of
the pAzita was there, so he rode
boldly up to the store-saloon of old
Garcia and left Pancho behind the
big adobe. Garcia greeted him like
an old friend and set out the drinks.
When they stood somewhat to them
selves, he leaned confdentially.
"You have sufficient Spanish, now,
to understand me? Bueno! Then
will talk with plainness. I am a
friend to-him. So are others here.
We cannot be enemies and live! But
tell you, Con, the good men here
are like me: we do not like his try
ing to take that pretty sister of
Nevil Lowe! That was bad and it
was also foolish. Now, ranchers
who live in lonely places, they are
looking at their wives, their daugh-
tiers, their sisters, thinking that they
are not safe. So he has hands turned
against him which before would help
at least, not hurt. 1t may be that
he has shortened his life by that
business which you stopped like the
good man you are
Con thanked him. There was more
In what the cantinero implied than
appeared in the words he had used.
When presently he drifted outside,
he was thinking of that. So when
woman's shrin cry of warning sound
ed, he stopped short, not under
standing instantly. Then Winches-
ter's fat, metallic report down the
line Of houses was followed instantly
by the rap of a slug into the wall
behind him.
There was doorway just ahead
and he plunged into it and f1attened
himself out of sight. The shot had
come from pile of mesquite roots
thirty or forty yards ahead It was
Amelia, with whom he had danced
at the bale, who had screamed a
warning. She was in window OPP
posite him, calling to him to go
inside, calling to someone named
Margarita to open the door. The
Winchester was drumming steadily.
Bullets Clipped the edges of the
thick adobe embrasure and dust
powdered Cons shirt. Then the
door opened behind him. A woman
was there, fat, middle-aged, calm.
Past" she invited Con. 81 think
from one of my windows you can
safely kill him."
He nodded and followed her
through two rooms of her house un-
til she indicated a window. Now he
could see a patch of blue shirt be-
hind the great heap of mesquite.
Grimly, Con aimed his pistol and
let the hammer drop, thumbed it
back and fired a second shot. A tall
cowboy jumped to his feet and
shrank back into shelter. Con wished
ferverhy for the carbine that hung
on his saddle-wished for it even
more strongly when from a new
position his attacker opened fire on
the window.
He stepped back and the woman
called to him. When he turned, she
stood beside grinning, wide-eyed
boy of ten or eleven, holding out the
from his scabbard.
HE thought you would wish it,"
The boy said. ''He told me to bring
Il to you. Now, you can kill him.
It is that one of yellow hair and blue
eyes called Saint. Kill him, Ell
ComancheI"
Con reholstered his Colt when he
had reloaded swiftly the empty