The Hennessey Clipper (Hennessey, Okla.), Vol. 27, No. 32, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 11, 1917 Page: 3 of 12
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THE CLIPPER. HENNESSEY. OKLAHOMA
THE LONE STAR RANGER
A Thrilling Texas Border Story
By ZANE GREY
SYNOPSIS.
—10—
The time of the story: about 1875. The
place: The Texas cow country. The chief
character: Buckley Duane, a young man
who has Inherited a lust to kill, which he
suppresses. In self-defense he shoots dead
a drunken bully and is forced to flee to
the wild country where he joins Bland's
outlaw band- Euchre, an amiable rascal,
tells him about Jennie, a young girl who
had been abducted and sold to Bland for a
bad fate. They determine to rescue the
girl and restore her to civilization. Eu-
chre has Just reconnoitered, and is re-
porting the outlook to Buck. Euchre Is
killed. Buck kills Bland and is danger-
ously wounded by Mrs. Bland, but es-
capes with Jennie. Jennie Is abducted.
Buck never sees her again, but kills her
abductor. Duane barely escapes death at
the hands of lynchers for a crime he nev-
er committed. He goes to see Captain
MacNelly of the Rangers, who hands him
a pardon on condition that he Join the
Rangers and assist In breaking up the
outlaws. Duane accepts and goes to the
outlaw headquarters on a secret mission.
He meets Colonel Longstreth, mayor of
Falrdale, and Miss Ray Longstreth and
her cousin, Ruth. There is something
suspicious about Longstreth.
CHAPTER XVII—Continued.
' Miss Longstreth rose white ns her
dress. The young women present
stared in astonishment, if they were
not equally perturbed. There were
cowboys present who suddenly grew
Intent and still. By these things
Duane gatheijpd that his appearance
must be disconcerting. He was pant-
ing. He wore no hat or coat. His
big gunsheath showed plainly at his
hip.
Sight of Miss Longstreth had an
unaccountable effect upon Duane. He
was plunged into confusion. For the
moment he saw no one but her.
"Miss Longstreth — I came — to
search—your house," panted Duane.
"Search my house 1" exclaimed Miss
Longstreth; and red succeeded the
white In her cheeks. She appeared
astonished and angry. "What for?
Why, how dare you! This Is un-
warrantable!"
"A man—Bo Snecker—assaulted
find robbed Jim Laramie," replied
Duane, hurriedly. "I chased Snecker
here—saw him run into this house."
"Here? Oh, sir, you must be mis-
taken. We have seen no one. In the
•absence of my father I'm mistress
here. I'll not permit you to search."
Lawson appeared to come out of his
astonishment. He stepped forward.
"Kay, don't be bothered now," he
said, to his cousin. "This fellow's
tnakinfc a hluff. I'll settle him. See
here, mister, you clear out!"
"I want Snecker. He's here, and
I'm going to get him," replied Duane,
quietly.
"Bah! That's all a bluff." sneered
Lawson. "I'm on to your game. You
Just wanted an excuse to break in
here—to see my cousin again. When
you saw the company you invented
that excuse. Now, be off, or it '11 be
the worse for you."
Duane felt his face burn with a
tide of hot blood. Almost he felt
that he was guilty of such motive.
Had he not been unable to put this
Bay Longstreth out of his mind?
There seemed to be scorn in her eyes
now. And somehow that checked his
embarrassment.
"Miss Longstreth, will you let me
search the house?" he asked.
"No."
"Then—I regret to say—I'll do so
without your permission."
"You'll not dare!" she flashed. She
Btood erect, her bosom swelling.
"Pardon me—yes, ,1 will."
"Who are you?" she demanded, sud-
denly.
"I'm a Texas Ranger," replied
Duane.
"A Texas Ranger!" she echoed.
Floyd Lawson's dark face turned
pale.
"Miss Longstreth, I don't need war-
rants to search houses," said Duane.
"I'm sorry to annoy you. I'd prefer
to have your permission. A rufllan
has taken refuge here—in your
father's house. He's hidden some-
where. May I look for him?"
"If you are indeed a ranger."
Duane produced his papers. Miss
Longstreth haughtily refused to look
at them.
"Miss Longstreth, I've come to
make Falrdale a safer, cleaner, better
place for women and children. I don't |
wonder at your resentment. But to
doubt me—insult me. Some day you
may be sorry."
Floyd Lawson made a violent mo- j
tion with his hands.
"All stuff! Cousin, go on with jjour
party. I'll take a couple of cowboys I
and go with this—this Texas Ranger."
"Thanks," said Duane coolly, as he
eyed Lawson. "Perhaps you'll be able
to find Snecker quicker than I could."
"What do you mean?" demanded j
Lawson, and now he grew livid. Evl- j
dently he was a man of quick pas- I
sions.
"Don't quarrel," said Miss Long-
streth. "Floyd you go with him. j
• Please hurry. I'll be nervous till—
the man's found or you're sure there's
not one."
They started with several cowboys to
search the house. It struck Duane
more than forcibly that Lawson tried
to keep in the lead It was Duane who
peered into a dark corner and then,
wftli a gun leveled, said "Come out!"
He came forth into the flare—a tall,
slim, dark-faced youth, wearing som-
brero, blouse and trousers. Duane
co-lured him before any of the others
could move and held the gun' close
enough to make him shrink. He
peep.-d Into Duane's face, then Into
that of the cowboy next to him, then
into Lawson's and If ever in Duane's
life he beheld relief it was then. That
was all Duane needed to know, but
he meant to find out more if he could.
"Who 're you?" asked Duane, quiet-
ly.
"Bo Snecker," he said.
"Ranger, what '11 you do with him?"
Lawson queried, as if uncertain, now
the capture was made.
"I'll see to that," 'replied Duane,
and he pushed Snecker In front of
him out into the court.
Duane had suddenly conceived the
idea of taking Snecker before Mayor
Longstreth in the court.
When Duane arrived at the hall
where court was held there were
other men there, a dozen or more, and
i II seemed excited; evidently, news of
Duane had preceded him. Longstreth
sat at a table on a platform. Near
him sat a thick-set grizzled man, with
deep eyes, and this was Hanford
Owens, county judge. To the right
stood a tall, angular, yellow-faced
fellow with a drooping sandy mus-
tache. Conspicuous on his vest was
a huge silver shield. This was
Gorsech, one of Longstreth's sheriffs.
There were four other men whom
Duane knew by sight, several faces
were familiar, and half a dozen
strangers, all dusty horsemen.
Longstreth pounded hard on the
table to be heard. Mayor or not, he
was unable at once to quell the ex-
citement. Gradually, however, it sub-
sided, and from the last few utter-
ances before quiet was restored
Duane gathered that he had intruded
upon some kind of a meeting in the
hall.
"What 'd you break in here for,"
demanded Longstreth.
"Isn't this the court? Aren't you
the mayor of Falrdale?" interrogated
Duane. His voice was clear and
loud, almost piercing.
"Yes," replied Longstreth. Like
flint he seemed, yet Duane felt his
intense interest.
"I've arrested a criminal," said
Duane.
"Arrested a criminal!" ejaculated
Longstreth. "You? Who are you?"
"I'm a ranger," replied Duane.
A significant silence ensued.
"I charge Snecker with assault on
Laramie and attempted robbery—if
not murder. He's had a shady past
here, as this court will know if it
keeps n record."
"What's this I hear about you, Bo?
Get up and speak for yourself," said
Longstreth, gruffly.
Snecker got up, not without a fur-
tive glance at Duane, and lie had
shuffled forward a few steps toward
the mayor. He had an evil front, but
not the boldness even of a rustler.
"It ain't so, Longstreth," he beTan,
loudly. "I went In Laramie's place
fer grub. Some feller I never seen
before come in fr.vin the hall an' hit
Laramie an' wrastled him on the floor.
I went out. Then this big ranger
chased me an' fetched me here. I
didn't do nothin'. This ranger's hank-
erin' to arrest somebody. Thet's my
hunch, Longstreth."
Longstreth said something in an
undertone to Judge Owens, and that
worthy noddikl his great bushy head.
"Bo, you're discharged," said Long-
streth, bluntly. "Now the rest of you
clear out of here."
He absolutely ignored the ranger.
That was his rebuff to Duane—his
slap in the face to an interfering
ranger service. If Longstreth was
halted Suecker, us if it had been a
bullet.
"longstreth, I saw Snecker attack
Laramie," said Duane, his voice still
ringing. "What has the court to say
to that?"
"The court has this to say. West
of the I'ecos we'll not aid any ranger
service. We don't want you out here.
Fail-dale doesn't need you."
"That's a lie, Longstreth," retorted
Duane. "I've letters from Falrdale
citizens all begging for ranger serv-
ice."
Longstreth turned white. The veins
corded at Ills temples. He appeared
about to burst into rage. He was at
a loss for quick reply.
Floyd Lawson rushed in and up to
the table. The blood showed black
and thick in his face; his utterance
was incoherent, his uncontrollable
outbreak of tamper seemed out of all
proportion to any cause he should
reasonably have had for anger. Long-
streth shoved him back with a curse
and a warning glare.
"Where's your warrant to arrest
Snecker?" shouted Longstreth.
"I don't need warrants to make
arrests. Longstreth, you're ignorant
of the power of Texas Rangers."
"You'll come none of your damned
ranger stunts out here. I'll block
you."
That passionate reply of Long-
streth's was the sigual Duane had
been waiting for. He had helped on
the crisis. He wanted to force Long-
streth's hand and show the town Ills
stand.
Duane backed clear of everybody.
"Men! I call on you all!" cried
Duane, piercingly. "I call on you to
witness the arrest of a criminal pre-
vented by Longstreth, mayor of Fair-
dale. It will be recorded in the re-
port to the Adjutant-General at
Austin. Longstreth, you'll never pre-
vent another arrest."
Longstreth sat white with working
Jaw.
"Longstreth," said Duane, In a voice
that carried far and held those who
heard. "Any honest citizen of Fair-
dale can now see what's plain. In
the two years you've been mayor
you've never arrested one rustler.
Strange, when Fairdale's a nest for
rustlers! You've never sent a prison-
er to Del Rio, let alone to Austin.
You have no jail. There have been
nine murders during your office—
innumerable street-fights and hold-ups.
Not one arrest! There have been law-
suits in your court—suits over water-
rights, cattle deals, property lines.
Strange how in these lawsuits you or
dawson or other men close to you
were always involved! Strange how
it seems the law was stretched to
favor your interest!"
Duane paused in his cold, ringing
speech. In the silence, both outside
and inside the hall, could be heard
the deep breathing of agitated men.
Longstreth was indeed a study. Yet
did he betray anything but rage at
this interloper.
"Longstreth, here's plain talk for
you and Falrdale," went on Duane.
"I don't accuse you and your court of
dishonesty. I say strange! Law here
has been a farce. The motive behind
all this laxity isn't plain to me—yet.
But I call your hand!"
"Ti.at's a Lie, Longstreth."
crooked he certainly had magnificent
nerve. Dunne almost decided he was
above suspicion. fcut his noncha-
lance, his air of finailty, his authorit-
ative assurance—th*se to Duane's
keen and practised Byes were in sig-
nificant contrast to a certain tense-
ness of line about the mouth and a
slow paling of his olive skin.
Then the prisoner, Snecker, with a
cough that broke the spell of silence,
shuffled a couple of steps toward the
door.
"Hold on!" called Duane. The call
CHAPTER XVIII.
Duane left the hall, elbowed his
way through the crowd, and went
down the street. He was certain that
on the faces of some men he had seen
ill-concealed wonder and satisfaction.
He had struck some kind of a hot
trail, and he meant to see where it
led. It was by no means unlikely
that Cheseldine might be at the other
end. Duane controlled a mounting
eagerness. But ever and anon ft was
shot through with a remembrance of
Ituy Longstreth. He suspected her
father of being not what he pretended.
He was troubled.
Upon returning to the inn he found
I.uramie there, apparently none the
worse for his injury.
"How are you, Laramie?" he asked.
"That was a good crack Snecker gave
you."
"I ain't accusin' Bo," remonstrated
Laramie, with eyes that made Duane
thoughtful.
"Well, I accuse him. I caught him
—took him to Longstrethte court. But
they let him go."
Laramie appenred to be agitated by
tills intimation of friendship.
"See here, Laramie," went on
Duane, "in some parts of Texas it's
policy to be close-mouthed. Policy
and health-preserving! Between our-
selves, I want you to know I lean
on your side of the fence."
Laramie gave & quick start. Pre-
sently Duane turned and frankly met
Ills gaze. He had startled Laramie
out of his habitual set taciturnity;
but even as he looked the light that
might have been amaze and joy faded
out of his face, leaving it the same
old mask. Still Duane had seea
enough. Like a bloodhound he had
a scent.
"Talking about work, Laramie,
who'd you say Snecker worked for?"
"When he works at all, which" sure
ain't often, he rides for Longstreth."
"Humph! Seems to me that Long-
streth's the whole circus round Fair-
dale. I was surprised to hear some
one say Longstreth owned the Hope
So loint"
"He owns considerable property
hereabouts," replied Laramie, con-
strainedly.
"Humph again! Laramie, like every
other fellow 1 met in this town,
you're afraid to open your trap about
Longstreth. Get me straight, Lara-
mie. For cause I'd throw a gun on
him just as quick as on any rustler
In Pecos."
"Talk's cheap," replied Laramie,
making light of his bluster, but the
red was deepe ill his face.
"Sure. I know that," Duane said.
"And usually I don't talk. Then it's
not well known that LongstreWi
owns the Hope So?"
"Reckon it's known in I'ecos, all
right. But Longstreth's name isn't
connected with |fce nope So. Blaudy
runs the place."
"That Blandy. His faro game's
crooked, or I'm a locoed bronch. That
llope So place ought to be run by a
good fellow like you, Laramie."
"Thanks," replied he; and Duane
imagined his voice a little husky.
"Didn't you hear I used to—run it?
I built the place, owned It for eleven
years."
"Well, I'll be doggoned." It was
indeed Duane's turn to be surprised,
and with the surprise came a glim-
mering. "I'm sorry you're not there
now. Did you sell out?"
"No. Just lost the place."
Laramie was bursting for relief
now—to talk, to tell. Sympathy had
made him soft, "it was two years
ago—two years last March," he went
on. "I was in a big cattle deal with
Longstreth. We got the stock—an'
my share, eighteen hundred head,
was rustled off. I owed Longstreth
He pressed me. It came to a law-
suit—an' I—was ruiued."
It hurt Duane to look at Laramie.
He was white, and tears rolled down
his cheeks. Duane saw the bitterness,
the defeat, the agony of the man.
But the reason lie did not openly ac-
cuse Longstreth, the secret of his
reticence and fear—these Duane
thought best to try to learn at some
later time.
"Hard luck! It" certainly was
tough," Duane said. "But you're a
good loser. And the wheel turns!
Now, Laramie, here's what. 1 need
your advice. I've got a little money.
But before I lose it 1 want to invest
some. Buy some stock, or buy an
interest in some rancher's herd.
Sure you must know a couple of men
above suspicion."
"Thank God I do," ho replied,
feelingly. "Frank Morton an' Si
Ziramer, my friends an' neighbors all
my prosperous days, an' friends still.
Yrou can gamble on Frank an' Si.
But if you want advice from me—
don't invest money in stock now."
"Why?"
"Because any new feller buyin'
stock these days will be rustled quick-
er 'n he can say Jack Robinson. The
old ranchers are wise an' sore.
They'd fight if they—"
"What?" Duane put in as he
paused. "What 'd make them fight?"
"A leader!"
"Howdy thar, Jim" boomed a big
voice.
A man of great bulk, with a ruddy,
merry face, entered the room.
"Hello, Morton," replied Laramie.
"I'd introduce you to my guest here,
but I don't know his name."
"Haw! Haw! Thet's all right. Few
men out hyar go by their right
names."
"Say, Morton," put in Duane, "Lar-
amie gave me a hunch you'd be a
good man to tie to. Now, I've a little
money and before I lose it I'd like to
invest it in stock."
Morton smiled broadly.
"I'm on the square," Duane said,
bluntly. "If you fellows never size up
your neighbors any better than you
have sized me—well, you won't get
any richer."
It was enjoyment for Duane to
make his remarks to these men
pregnant with meaning. Morton
showed his pleasure, his interest, but
Ids faith held aloof.
"Wal, stranger, to come out flat-
footed, you'd be foolish to buy cattle
now. Better go back across the Pecos
where the rustlers ain't so strong."
"All I hear is rustlers, Morton," re-
plied Duane, with impatience. "You
see, I haven't ever lived long in a
rustler-run county. Who heads the
gang, anyway?"
Morton looked at Duane with a cur-
iously amused smile, then snapped his
big jaw as if to shut in impulsive
words.
i "Look here, Morton. It stands to
reason, no matter how strong these
rustlers are, how hidden their work,
however involved with supposedly
honest men—they can't last. There
are a lot of men around Falrdale who
're afraid of their shadows—afraid to
be out after dark—afraid to open
their mouths. But you're not one.
What you need out here is some new
blood. Savvy what I mean?"
"Wal, I reckon I do," he replied,
looking ns if a storm had blown over
him. "Stranger, I'll look you up the
next time I come to town."
Then he went out.
Laramie had eyes like flint striking
lire. He breathed a deep breath and
looked around the room before his
gaze fixed again on Duane.
"Wal," he replied, speaking low.
"You've picked the right men. Now,
who in the hell are you?"
Reaching into the inside pocket of
his buckskin vest, Duane turned the
lining out. A star-shaped bright silver
object flashed as he shoved it, pocket
and all, under Jim's hard eyes.
"Ranger!" he whispered, cracking
the table with >.! fist. "You sure
rung true to me."
"Laramie, do you know who's boss
of this secret gang of rustlers here-
abouts?" asked Duane, bluntly. It
was characteristic of him to come
sharp to the point. His voice—some-
thing deep, easy, cool about him—
seemed to steady Laramie.
"No," replied Laramie.
"Does anybody know?" went on
Duane.
"Wal, I reckon there's not one hon-
est native who knows."
"But you have suspicions?"
"We have,"
"Have you any idea whether Chesel-
dine and his gang are associated with
this gang here?"
"Lord knows. I've always suspect-
ed them bein' the same gang. None of
us ever seen Cheseldine—an' thet's
strange when Knell, Poggin, Pan-
handle Smith, Blossom Kane, and
Fletcher, they all ride here often. No,
Poggin doesn't come here often. But
the others do. Fer thet matter,
they're around all over west of the
Pecos."
"Now I'm puzzled over tills," said
Dunne. "Why do men—apparently
honest men—seem to be so close-
mouthed here? Is that a fact, or only
luy impression?"
"It's sure a fact," replied Laraiuie,
darkly. "Men have lost rattle an'
property in Falrdale—lost them hon-
estly or otherwise, as hasn't been
proved. An' In some cases when they
talked—hinted a lutie—they was
Lawson Staggered Backward.
found dead. Apparently held up an'
robbed. But dead. Dead men don't
talk! Thet's why we're close-
mouthed."
The ranger was about to speak
again when the clatter of hoofs In-
terrupted him. Horses halted out
in front, and one rider got down.
Floyd Lawson entered. He called for
tobacco.
\f his visit surprised Laramie he
did not show any evidence. But Law-
son showed rage as he saw the ranger,
and then a dark glint flitted from the
eyes that shifted from Duane to
Laramie and back again. Duane
leaned easily against the counter.
"Say, that was a bad break of
yours." Lawson said. "If you come
fooling around the ranch ugain
there'll be hell."
It seemed strange that a man who
had lived west of the Pecos for ten
years could not see in Duane some-
thing which forbade that kind of talk.
It certainly was not nerve Lawson
showed; men of courage were seldom
intolerant. With the matchless nerve
that characterized the great gunmen
of the duy there was a cool, unob-
trusive manner, a speech brief, almost
gentle, certainly courteous. Lawson
was a hot-headed Louisianian of
French extraction; a man, evidently,
who had never been crossed in any
thing, and who was strong, brutal,
passionate, which qualities in the face
of a situation like this made him
simply a fool.
"You're right. But not the kind
you think," Duane retorted, his voice
sharp and cold.
"Ray Longstreth wouldn't stoop to
know a dirty blood-tracker like you,"
said Lawson hotly. He did not seem
to have a deliberate intention to rouse
Duane; the man was simply rancor-
ous, jealous. "I'll call ^ou right.
You cheap bluffer! You four-flush!
You damned interfering, conceited
ranger!"
"Lawson, I'll not take offense, be-
cause you seem to be championing
your beautiful cousin," replied Duane,
in slow speech. "But let me return
your compliment. You're a fine South-
erner ! Why, you're only a four-flush—
u cheap bull-heuded rustler!"
Duane hissed the last word. Then
for him there was the truth In Law-
son's working passion-blackened face.
Lawson jerked, moved, meant to
draw. But how slow! Duane lunged
forward. His long arm swept up.
And Lawson staggered backward,
knocking table and chairs, to fall
hard, in a hnlf-sitting posture against
the wall.
"Don't draw I" warned Duane.
"Lawson, git away from your gun!"
yelled Laramie.
But Lawson was crazed with fury.
He tugged at his hip, his face corded
with purple welts, malignant, murder-
ous. Duane kicked the gun out of
his hand. Lawson got up, raging, and
rushed out.
Laramie lifted his shaking hands.
"What 'd you wing him for?" he
wailed. "He was drawln' on you.
Klekin' men like him won't do out
here."
"That bull-headed fool will roar und
butt himself with all his gang right
Into our hands. He's just the man
I've needed to meet."
"If Lawson's the man you think he
Is he'll begin thet secret underground
business. Why, Lawson won't sleep of
nights now. He an' Longstreth have
always been after me."
"Laramie, what are your eyes for?"
demanded Duane. "Watch out. And
now here. See your friend Morton.
Tell him this game grows hot. To-
gether you approach four or five men
you know well and can absolutely
trust. 1 may need your help.'
Then Dunne went from place to
place, corner to corner, bar to bar,
watching, listening, recording. The
excitement had preceded him, anil
speculation was rife. He thought
best to keep out of ft. After dark
he stole up to Loragstreth's ranch.
The evening was warm; the doors
were open; and in the twilight the
only lamps that had been lit were In
Longstreth's big sitting-room, at the
far end of the house. When a buck-
board drove up and Longstreth and
Lawson alighted; Duane was well
hidden in the bushes, so well screened
that he could get but a fleeting
glimpse of Longstreth as he went In.
For all Duane ctwild see, he appeared
to be a calm and quiet man, intense
beneath the surface, with an air of
dignity under insult. Duane's chance
to observe Lawson was lost. They
went into the bouse without speaking
and closed the door.
At the other end of the porch, close
under a window, was an offset be-
tween step and wall, and there in
the shadow Duane hid. So Duane
waited there in the darkness with
patience born of many hours of hid-
ing.
Presently a lamp was lit; and
Duane heard the swish of skirts.
"Something's happened surely,
Ruth," he heard Miss Longstreth say,
anxiously. "Papa just met me In
the hall and didn't speak, lie seemed
pole, worried."
"Cousin Floyd looked like a
thunder-cloud," said Ruth. "For once
he didn't try to kiss me. Something's
happened."
"Oh, dear! Ruth, what can we do?
These are wild men. Floyd makes life
miserable for me. And he teases you
unnier—"
"1 don't call It teasing. Floyd wants
to spoon," declared Ruth, emphati-
cally. "He'd run after any woman."
"A fine compliment for me, Cousin
Ruth," laughed Ray.
"I don't care," replied Ruth, stub-
bornly. "It's so. He's mushy. And
when he's been drinking and tries to
kiss me—I hate him!"
There were steps on the hall floor.
"Hello, girls 1" sounded out Law-
son's voice, minus Its usual gayety.
"Floyd, what's the matter?" asked
Ray, presently. "I never saw papa as
he is to-night, nor you so—so worried.
Tell me, what has happened?"
"We had to submit to a damnable
outrage," replied Lawson, passionate-
ly, as if the sound of his voice aug-
mented his feeling. "Listen, girls; I'll
tell you about it." He coughed, clear-
ed his throat in a way that betrayed
he had been drinking,
Duane sank deeper into the shadow
of his Covert, and, stiffening his
muscles for a protracted spell of
rigidity, prepared to listen with all
acuteness and intensity, Just one
word from this Lawson, inadvertently
uttered in a moment of passion, might
be the word Duane needed for his
clue,
"It happened at the town hall," be-
gan Lawson, rapidly. "Your father
and Judge Owens and I were there
in consultation with three ranchers
from out of town. Then that damned
rnnger stalked in dragging Snecker,
the fellow who hid here in the house.
He had arrested Snecker for alleged
assault on a restaurant-keeper named
Laramie. Snecker being obviously In-
nocent, he was discharged. Then this
ranger began shouting Insults. Law
was a farce In Falrdale. The court
was a farce. There was no la«£ Your
father was afraid of the rustlers,
highwaymen, murderers. He was
afraid or—he just let them alone. He
used his office to cheat ranchers and
cattlemen in lawsuits. All this the
ranger yelled for everyone to hear.
A damnable outrage. Your father,
Ray, insulted In his own court by a
rowdy ranger!"
"Oh!" cried Ray Longstreth, In
mingled distress and anger.
"The ranger service wants to rule
western Texas," went on Lawson.
"These rangers are all a low set.
This Is one of the worst of the lot.
He's to he feared. He would kill. If
your father had made the least move
he would have shot him. He's a
cold-nerved devil—the born gunman.
My God, any instant I expected to
see your father fall dead at my feet!"
"Oh, Floyd! The unspeakable
rufllan!" cried Ray Longstreth, pas-
sionately.
"What do you care for the insinua-
tions of such a man?" said Ray Long-
streth, her voice now deep and rich
with feeling. "After a moment's
thought no one will be influenced by
them. Do not worry, Floyd. Tell
papa not to worry. Surely after all
these years he can't be injured in
reputation by—by an ndventurer."
"Yes, he can be Injured," replied
Floyd, quickly. "The frontier is a
queer place. There are many bitter
men here—men who have failed at
ranching. And your father lias neen
wonderfully successful. The rnnger
has dropped poison, and It II spread."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Chance for an Invention
There are dolls w hich say "Mamma"
and "Papa." Why doesn t someone in-
vent a golf hall that will say 'Here i
aui?"—Indianapolis Star.
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The Hennessey Clipper (Hennessey, Okla.), Vol. 27, No. 32, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 11, 1917, newspaper, January 11, 1917; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc106059/m1/3/: accessed April 25, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.