Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1943-04-23
CHAPTER XIV

a lazily languid day by now, and
both the judge and Doc Joe we're in
clined to a sort of dreamful ease,
the horses had expended their first,
early morning zest, and the home
ward journey lacked the speed and
dash marking its first phase, from
Bald Eagle to the King Cole Ranch.
Now the sun was higher and warm
er, now the two old cronies were
drowsy and pleasurably sentiment
tai, their eyes heavy-lidded from
last nights indulgence-and in a
spot where the narrow road wound
down into cool and shady ravine
both men were rudely startled when
man on horseback cut unexpected
ly into the road in front of them
and issued his orders. The man
wore a mask improvised from a
bandana handkerchief, and his voice
was a strange muffied voice-he
might have had pebbles in his mouth
and his few, briskly spoken words
were to the effect that the Judge
and Doc Joe were to stop where
they were and not reach for any
guns provided they carried such ar
ticles-as, naturally, both did.
''Who do you think you are" the
old Judge snorted, telling us where
to head in?"
II want everything in your pock-
ets," he said, land I want it quick
If you make fuss about it I'll kill
the two Of you inside ten seconds"
They reached for their purses and
tossed them into the dry, dusty grass
alongside the road.
There you are, Stranger" grum-
bled Doc Joe. "Take it."
Il said I wanted everything in
your pockets" he was reminded in
a voice which ranked long in his
memory. Everything you've got"
That's all we GOT" roared the
Judge, his hand itching to reach
for the old Colt he hadn't gone with
out for many and many year, but
never stirring an inch toward it
because he knew better.
"Get move on, you fools! Turn
your pockets out"
They strove to tumble and to hide
the papers they had carried, that
given Doc Joe by Ann Lee, that en-
trusted to the Judge by Bill Cole
Cody. But the steady eyes bent
upon them were too watchful.
Everything, l tell you! Empty
your pockets to your nose rags
and tobacco. Everything you've got.
Pitch it out and drive on-and get
a move on doing i'll"
Doc Joe had a pet corn, and he
was apt to slaughter a man who
trod on it. And certainly none knew
about this corn better than did the
Judge.
And now the Judge trod heavily
and deliberately on Doc Joe's corn.
And Doc Joe, already stung almost
beyond endurance, caught the sig
nal and was glad to have the Judge
with him, and like one man the two
of them went for their guns.
Well along in years they might
be, but they were not the type of
man whose coat tail you tread on
with IMMUNITY any more than you
go poking stick at an old rattle
snake
Actuated by the same instructive
impulse, alike not caring for their
present position on the buggy seat,
as they snatched at their side arms
they threw themselves clear, over
the wheels into the road, landing
anyhow, spraWling. Doc Joe sat up
and began firing at the masked rid
err; the Judge rested on his knees
and loosed his own screaming bull
lets.
vice, startled by the crash of gun
fire, bolted, headed straight toward
the man at whose command they
had been halted. He, too, was fir
ing, rapidly yet not so rapidly as to
bespeak any nerve-storm; wasting
no time, yet spacing his shots coolly.
His horse started to lunge, as the
frightened team almost ran him
down; his bandana slipped; both
France Waldron!" roared the old
Judge and, his shooting skill not be-
ing quite what it had been once
upon time long time ago, shot
Waldron's horse through the throat.
The beast reared and screamed and
fell, paving the air with failing
hoofs; Rance Waldron leaped clear.
A sharp cry of warning burst from
Doc Joe.
Judge! Look out! There's anoth-
er of them hid in the bushes-like
when they held the stage up the
other day!"