The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1942-04-23
CHAPTER VIII

Now, Con-" said Dud, 'he's kind
of like Big in one way-nothing on
the shoot, but kind of fancying his
self with his fists. Of course, Big
was really something at fist-and-
skull and Con-Say! You wouldn't
think you're as good as Big was,
Con? Would your"
Why, certainly not!" Con cried
loudly. How could / be, if he was
SomewAeres around as good as you
are? You let me be just next after
him, VIII you? Even that makes me
second 70 you and I couldn't ask
E,ore."
Wen see!" bud told him, fiat,
singsDg drawl almost a whine.
''You and neil try a i'P tussle-
friendly, of course. Kind of see
where you do stack up when you
amt hacking somebody like poor
h'P Snaky Gonzales"
This is certainly obliging of you,
Dud," Con drawled hunbly.
bud leaped a yard from the
ground with scalp yell and cracked
his heels together. He dropped light
1y and Bashed Con with another yell,
failing terrific blows from all an
giles. Con slid to the side and let him
60 by.
''Of course" Con went on evenly,
Il never did see Big"
Again he evaded the bull-like
charge and bud fell fiat.
Con watched him scramble furi-
ously 10 his feet and charge with the
ferocity of an animal. He increased
his speed, trying to hammer down
the smaller man.
Con himmed Buffalo Galsl can't
you come out tonight?" and jabbed
his left into buds face to snap his
head back, hooked a right to the
belt that doubled him over, then
turned and walked to where the
gaping Def and Catfish sat.
eff IT'S all the same to you," he
said, 81 think that's just plenty for
a friendly mill. I'm all out of wind!"
bud walked shakily to where Cat
fish held his pistols, but when he
sank to the ground he could only
pant open-mouthed for minutes.
eff YOU was-haf as goodwill
your cutter-as you are with your
fists" he said at last, you'd be
somebody! Yeh!"
bud gestured toward the whisky
jug.
Take big snort of that tarantula
blood, ysu-all. We're going out in
society. Yes, sir! Wen hit Nevil
Lowe a lick that'n knock the book
right out of the hand of that college
professor grandpa that started the
MI. We're going visiting him; going
to strip the MI clean. If he amt
home-fhat's what we want"
They packed food into their sad
die pockets before mounting. JEFF
and Catfish and bud seemed to pick
up cheerfulness during the day as
they rode across the mountains.
From thinking of the gunman, Con
moved naturally to thought of that
other artist with the Colt, gray and
silent old Hugh Norris.
They stopped before dark at the
house of Mexican rancher, set on
the divide that marked the long drop
down 10 Lobo Valley-that held Tt
van foGty-odd miles westward. While
he ate, and after the meal as they
lounged about the door in pine-scent-
ed darkness, he listened to the talk
of Dud, Catfish, and jeff, and the
ranchepo and his two lean, hand
some vaquero sons.
"Manyl and fne!" the rancher an
swered buds question about Nevil
loves horses.
When they rode away from the
ranchero's next morning, Catfish led
the way across foothills until they
came 10 a one-room adobe with a
small poae-corral beyond it. A tall
man with binoculars at his eyes
studied them, then lowered his
glasses He stepped from the door
way into the yard and waited. When
they came up to him he nodded.
''Howdy, Dud," he greeted them.
Hello, Catfish. Looking for a meal?
Or just riding by?"
Rode by to see if you-an wanted
to come along with us and help
Nevil lowe out with his horses.
Seems terrible, them horses run
ming Wild just because Nevil's so
busy sheriffing he can't round 'em
up. got some other notions, too"
1--WE had something like that in
our heads" the other said calmly.
Coming over to wawa with you.
Pickings are awful slim with us.
Be with you in a shake. Saint
Come On down."
''Conmgl" cheerful voice said
from directly overhead.
A blond head lifted at the edge
of the dirt roof. They stared as
the lanky cowboy gathered Win
chester and shotgun under his arm
and swung easily to the ground be-
side his dark, older partner. He
laughed at Cons disguised express
sion.