Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

Every Tuesday "What have ye lieen workin* for?" he was shouting in stentorian accents. "It ain't been for money, 'cause you ain't got none in the last six weeks. Huh, maybe vou're jest workin' for your sweat, an' that's about all you'll get outer this rail- road—unless a pack of Injuns comes along an tears the hair off o' yer heads into the bargain! " Neither he nor bis listeners had ob- served the an-ival of Jeff, for the latter had drawn rein some little distance from the scene. But with Duke Ring's words resoimding in his ears the young trouble shooter now alighted from the buckboard in which he had driven out beyond the "End of Track," and, walking forward, he interposed himself between the malcon- tent and the latter's audience. "Hallo, boys," he greeted, addressing himself to the agitator's listeners and for the present ignoring Ring himself. " Where's your foreman?" There was a silence, and then Jeff spoke again. "Your foreman was a fine fellow," he said deliberately. "Tell me, is this bruiser taking his place?" He nodded to Duke Ring as he put the question, and the hulking bully at once laised liis voice. BOY'S CINEMA and a train will be coming through to Cheyenne an\' dav now with the pay-roll aboard it. That's the truth, men, and I advise you to get back to work. The Railroad isn't going to pay you for stand- ing around watching Duke Ring break up its property." His speech had the effect he desired, and the navvies were makmg as if to resume their toil when Ring let out a snarl and swung up the axe he was grasping. "I'll kill the first guy to move a shovel of earth!" he roared. "You crazy galoots, are you gonna believe this slick-tongucd railroad copper? Back up, blast you! I tell you I'll kill the first man that moves a shovel of earth!" The labourers recoiled, overawed by the threatening attitude that the herculean Duke Ring had struck, and not one of them displaying the coui-age to defy the bully's warning, it was left to Jeff Butler to set them an example. With unhurried tread he advanced to woapon in Ring's grasp i)it irrmi^saly into the ground. Carried on by his own In/pctu.s, Duke Ring reeled past JofT, and, as he went lunging by, the younger man hit hiin smartly across the seat of the punls with the flat of the shovel. At that a snigger went up from the onlookers, who had been tense enough a moment before, and with that laugh sounding in his cars Ring became incon.sf.d beyond description. Pulling up. he whirled around and peered about him in quest ot Jeff through lids that were half clogged with mud. "Here I am, Mr. Ring." Jeff sang out coollv. "Right over here." The bully twisted his great head in the direction from which the trouble shooter's voice had come, and, removing one hand from the axe shaft, wiped the mire from his eyes. • "I see you, ye stinkin' railroad cop!" he bawled then, and swung the axe aloft with both hands again. :iere's where some of the slugs from my guns hit home—only they didn't go through the coin. It's lucky for the bandit he was carrying the bag on his back " "What're you gonna do a'oout it, bucko?" he rumbled menacingly. "Nothing, Mr. Ring," Jeff replied, giving him eye for eye. "Nothing. Mr. Ring—if these diggers are fools enough to believe a lying windbag like you." Duke Ring's chest seemed to .swell, and. rounding on the assemblage of labourers again, he bellowed at them jnteirogatively. "Lyin', am I?" he shouted. "Have you been paid for six weeks, or ain't you?" The workmen began to mumble a nega- tive chorus, whereuiJon Jeff cut in on them. "Sure, sure, you've all got wages com- ing," he announced. "So have I. And you can take it from me we'll get every cent"«'that's due to us. Just lately the company has been temporarily low in funds, but a new loan has been floated, where a discarded but intact spade was lying, and. picking it up, he dug into the ground with it. Duke Ring glared at him, tightening his grip on the haft of his axe as he did so. "Drop that shovel, bucko," he rasped, "or you'll go outer here feet-first with yer skull split in two!" Jeff did not answer him. Instead he suddenly switched the spade upward and hurled a shower of dirt full into the gigantic agitator's brutish face—dirt that, was wet owing to a recent fall of rain— dirt that splattered itself and clotted itself all over that gross visage. Duke Ring jerked backwards. Then a yell escaped him, and, his teeth bared like the fangs of a hound gone rabid, he leapt towards the spot whence Jeff had cast the clods of earth. The blade of his axe described a mighty curve in the air. sweeping down with a force that must have driven it deep through flesh and bone had Jeff been in the track of it. • But Jeff had dodged nimbly to one side, and the murderous Jeff lifted the shovel and took un a defensive stance as Duke Ring launched a further murderous onset. But as the bully's axe was descending anew he skipped clear once more, and Ring was blundering past him a second time when Jeff neatly tucked the spade between the ruffian's feet and tripped him. Plunging. Duke Ring dived straight for a water-trough that was located in his path, and in another instant he sprawled into it and measured his length in the brimming receptacle. Then, espying a big wheel which was leaning against the trough and which had presuma'oly come adrift from some broken-down supply wagon, Jeff flung away his shovel and pounced on the heavj- circular frame. He swept up that wheel in his powerful arms and crammed it over the trough, flattening Ring under its thick spokes as the agitator was endeavouring to scramble forth. Next he squatted on it. and, hang- ing on to the sides of the trough remained seated on the wheel despite his antagonist's furious efforts to dislodge him and scramble from the "drink." October iSth, 193D.