Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

ITHE ONSET DEEP i« the lioart of tlio foolliills that lay to the noitli-uest of the fioiitier towii- fcliip of Oeaj-wator, in Wostein Wyoming, two horsemen had diawri rein witliin the confines of a sterile valJcy—a valley batiied by tho mellowed rays of an autumnal sun. Renowned scouts and Indian fighters, those two horsemen were handsome Jeff S<iott and rough-grained Dt'adwood Hawkins, and for an hour they had been travelling at xandom in the hope of picking up the trail of a couple of outlaws whom they were bent ou bringing lo . justice. The outlaws in question were a half-blood Indian kaown as Breed and n renegade white ivho answered to the name of Bull Bragg— members of » powerful organisation which was out to prevent the settling of Oregon, and vhich had launched a succession of attacks on the Mason wagon train, a column of im- ijiigrants at present locate^l at Clearwater. An hour ago Jeff Scott and Deadwood Ha^vkins had been hot on the scent of Bragg and his half-blood crony and a bunch of Red- .skin braves with whom the ruffians had been in tow. An hour ago, the two .«couts had been following tlie tracks left by the ponies of that rascally nond in their passage through the hilU. But the imprints of the animal's hoofs had petered out in country that was too stony to yield any clues indicating the coui'se taken by the Indians and thoir outlaw associates, and now Jeff and Doadvvood were eyeing each other in a bafflerl fashion. '"Tain't no use huntin' around Iiaphazard the way we been doin'," the latter declared, a disgruntled expiession on his leathery face. "We're wastni' our time, .loft'. We uiiglit .scour these hills for a month o' Sundays without romin' across .-m.^' trace o' them buzzards Bragg an* Breed." Jeff S(x>lt inclined his head. "You're right. Deadwood," he assented. "But there's one thing we can do. Those out- laws had a party of Bhosbono Indians for saddle company, and tlieie's pi.^t n chance they may have gone to the Redskins' village. I guess it might pay ub to sneak u|) on that village and tfive it the oncc-orer." l^ebruary 24tl), IMO. Deadwood fidgeted uncomfortably and pulled a long face. - " We're liable to git our scalps lifted," ho muttered. " I know that, pardner. But I mean to run those hombres. Breed and Bragg, to earth, and I mean to turn them over to the authorities the fii-st chance I get. Don't forget, we con- tracted with the Government to find out who was behind the campaign that's been launched to stop colonists from reaching Oregon—and if Bragg and that half-blood are captured it may bo iX)Ssiblo to force 'em to talk." He paused, then went ou sjieaking in an earnest tone. " I'm not only thinking of our duty to the Clovernment, though," he proceeded. "I'm also thinking of John Mason and his daughter Margarei; and all the jieoplo of that wagon train he's organised. Since we horned-in with that column you and I have made a lot of friends among the outfit, and I want to see them reach their destination safely—which they won't unless the organisation that's operating against 'em can be smashed." Again he paused, directing a quizzical glance at his companion as he did so. "Still," he adcled, "don't let mo drag you into any trouble-if you've no mind to be risk- ing your scalp. I'm ready to head for that Shoshone village on my lonesome. You swing armmd and go back to Clearwater if you want •to." "You know me better 'n that, Jeff," Dead- wood growled. "Lead on. I'll be right behind you." It was just such a response as Jeff had ex- pected his pardner to make, and without another word ho gave his bronc a touch of the .spur and rode on along the valley, Deadwood following him doggedly. They were familiar enough with the location of the Redskin encampment, which was now their objective, and, clearing the defile wherein they had made their biief halt, they bore off in a southerly direction and pressed through the hills at a brisk pace. EPISODE 12:— MARAUDERS of the PRAIRIE Thrill to the stirring chapters of this new Universal serial of the days when the West rocked to the blazing guns of the intrepid Frontiersmen and Settlers wrho waged war on Redskins and Renegades For close on another hour they continued to ride southward without slackening up. But, arriving at last in the winity of a rock-sti-ewn ridge, they drew rein and dismounted, then .started to ascend the slope on foot with their horses'plodding after them. Leading the iwnies by the bridlee, the two -scbiits gained the summit of the ridge, and from the cover of a cluster of big boulders they" peered tlown int« a hollow that wao dotted with a collection of buffalo-skin tepees. Those tepees were the lodges of the Shoshones, and as Jeff and Deadwood gazed dawn into the Indian village they saw that the whole tribe had congregated on an expanse of open ground in the centre of the encampment. Braves, squaws, children, and old men were mustered there, and they were being addressed by a tall, commanding personage whom Jeff and Deadwood knew to bo Spotted Elk, the head chief of the Shoshones. By spotted Elk's side was a lean, lank-haii-ed and swart-complexioned individual who was dros.sed in the attire of a white man and who sported a grimy sombrero that was tilted well back on his head. Despite his clothing, how- ever, this individual resembled a Redskin moro closely than he did a Paleface, and the watchers on the ridge immediately identified him. "There's Breed," Jeff whispered, "standing beside Spotted Elk. I don't see any sign of Bragg, though." Deadwood made no comment. He was listening attentively to the discourse of Spotted Elk, for, notwithstanding the fact that the two scouts were some distance from the Indian settlement, the words pronounced by the Shoshone chief reached their ears distinctly. They were words that Deadwood had no difficulty in interpreting, for he was well acquainted with the Shoshone language. As for Jeff, he had a sound knowledge of a good- many of the Indian dialects, but po.ssessed only a smattering of the Shoshone tongue; and he was none too clear as to what had been said when Spotted Elk brought his speech to an end amid shrill yells of approval from the assembled tribe. " Wliat was the old diief's harangue all about, Deadwood?" Jeff interrogated. "Ho seemed mighty het-up about something." Deadwood looked at him, and now Jeff pereeivcd 'that his weather-beaten countenance wore an expression of intense concern. "I'll Sjiy the ole chief's het-up! Jeff, he's ordered his braves to swoop down on the Mason wagon train on the trail west o' Clear- water. It appears Breed has been authorised to promise the Shosjhones plenty o' rifles an' fire-water if they'll wipe out them immigrant*, an' they're gonna hit the breeze right away. That means we've gotta get outa here and get out fast if we're to savD Mason an' his friends from wholesale massacre." Jeff' laid a hand on his arm. "Wait a minute, Deadwood," he said. "Mason and his people are in cami>—east of Clearwatei- " " Not any more, they ain't," Deadwood cut in. "Accordin' to what Spotted Elk said. Breed has tipped him off that the Mason column has elected to pull out, leavin' word for you an' me to catch up with 'cm." Jeff's features now reflected the anxiety that was depicted on his comrade's, and, draw- ing back from the rocks, both frontiersmen swung themselves astride their ponies. A moment later they were spurring down the slope that they had climbed, and, on gaining the foot of it, they headed due west as rapidly as their broncs would carry them. On through the hills (hey streaked for milo after mile, canyon and vale echoing to the ix)undinp beat of their horses' hoofs, dust- clonds billowing out behind them. Onward for fullj- two hours they sped, skirting Clearwater