Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

6 Martin Carraway, alias Stoplicn Jatlc- ' son, alias Flash Hugliie." There were al.so details concerning (lie wanted man's hoigjjt, weiglit, eolovu- of his eyes and hair, and so forth. "Is that tlie man?" insi-ted the watch- ful inspector. ■' Yes," said Jim slowly. "I thought so. Well, I'm looking for that bird." ■■'What do you mean? He—he's not dead ?" J?rant laughed scornfully. "Listen," he said impressively. "That fellow's committed suicide at least a dozen times, and. he's teamed up with a woman who's supposed to bo his sister. Now, I don't want to be too personal, my friend, but did you happen to console that bereaved sister, or take up the family mortgage? Did you?" Jim turned away, holding the sheet of paper as if to get more light from the window with which to study the pic- lure of Hugli Dixon. His visitor had no idea of the blow he had administered, the dream of happiness he had shat- tered. Jim was slow of speech but quick of thought, and he was thinking more rapidly than usual. "Why, no—no," he said at last. "I didn't meet the sister." "You're lucky ! Lots of them have !" "Lots?" echoed Jim. "Lots! For my own sake I was rather hoping you liad met her, because he's boiuid to come back to her, and you might have led me in the right direction. I've reason to believe she is in San Francisco, but she changes her luldress like a chameleon changes its colour." Inspector Brant departed, congratu- lating Jim on the fact that he was re- turning that same day to his mines in tlie Western Sierras—a place where the Hugh Dixons of the world would find it liifficidt to ply their nefarious trade. Jim dumped himself on the bed and grappled with the situation for some little time. So Anne was a crook—and he loved her ! He had been hood- winked—cheated ! He thought of the nioney ho had given her, the gifts he had lavished on her. He began to chuckle mirthlessly. She had certainly deceived him; but, after ■ a^l, he had deceived her, too, though he would have told her the truth if she had let him. He unpacked the suitcases, dressed with care, and set out for her flat. " When Oreek Meets Oreek " BY some freak of fate Hugh Dixon had chosen that very morning to walk back into Anne's life. Ho arrived in a taxi, without luggage, while Inspector Brant was talking about him in the bed-room on the fifth floor of the Iliunberstone Hotel. .'\niie. who opened the cloor of her flat to him, seemed none too pleased to sec him; but ho greeted her effusively, nnd walked into the sitting-room as though he owned the place. "VVi'll," he said cheerfully from the hearthrug, "I've been dead just a nionth and a week to-day ! That makes the third time , I've died this year. It sure was a lucky day when wc teamed up on this brother and sister act!" ." "One of ilioso days perhaps you'll stay,' df-ad," said 'Anne, "and I ni^ay get la'little' peace. Jim Cardew is a fine fellow." ■,'VA he-man from the sage-brush, eh ?" ,;4.^.Ke(l Dixon. ■ ■"■- '■!" don't know about the sago- ^^'oHish,"'she retorted,, and-moved across to-'vt'liltlo burean.'froJli-'which fho'(o(5l« July. 4fh, 19^1. BOY'S CINEMA the bankbook Jim had given her that morning. "Hugh," she said, holding it out to him, "I've been thinking. Wc might split this, and with it our partnership —for a time, anyway. It's hard work playing on your heartstrings. I need a rest." Hugh Dixon took the book and examined it. He tossed it back to her with a scowl. "You think of dropping me, and playing this bird yourself?" he de- manded angrily. "Oh, don't be silly," she said. And then, almost wistfully: 'You know, for a while I thought I was really fall- ing in love with that big boy. It wouldn't be so hard to do, at that." She dropped rather wearily on to the chesterfield, and ho lit a cigarette before he dealt with this unexpected confession. Then he said fiercely : "Look here, Anne, no nonsense! This bird is full of money, and we're going to take it from him—right?" "We'll talk about that later," she evaded. "There's plenty of time—he won't be back for weeks. Run along, Hugh, I'm tired." He went, smoking his cigarette, smil- ing maliciously back at her from the door. And she flew to the window to watch him leave the building. A taxi had drawn up at the kerb as he emerged into the sunlight, and Anne, at the window, gasped. For it was Jim who descended from the taxi. Hugh vievi'ed his victim' with some alann, and would have made off, but Jim grabbed him by the arm. "Dixon 1" he cried, as though in amazement. "Why, you old son of a gun, why—er—I thought you " "Yes, I know," said Dixon glibly. "I guess it's my fate to go on living. You see, when I went overboard that night I woke up being pulled aboard a tramp .stoamer bound for South America." "But why didn't you let me know, man?" demanded Jim, dissimulating. "Well, I knew you'd told my sister, and I really intended complcring the job later. Guess'I lost my nerve." "You don't know how glad I am t% see you !" cried Jim, thumping him in the back and holding him while he paid the taxi-driver. "Come on—let's go in ! I guess Anno has told you about cur engagement?" "Well, yes," admitted Hugh. They made their way together up the stairs to the flat, and Anne, with a book in her hand, admitted them. "Look who's hero!" exclaimed Dixon. "Jim, darling!" cried Anno. "So you didn't go?" "No, I missed my boat," Jim re- plied. "And glad of it, too. I don't think I could go back without you now, Anne." She seemed genuinely pleased to hear that. "f)h, you're a dear!" she declared, and pulKxl him into the sitting-room and sat beside him on the chesterfield. "Weren't you surprised to see Hugh?" "I shcTiild say I was," he drawled, and looked up at the man who was wanted for larceny, embezzlement and fraud with a friendly smili'. "You know," he said to him. "Anne wanted to see how I worked the mines, and now that I'v'e missed my boat I've eonio back to tell hor she can come along. You might eomo along, too, Hiigti. v. .Maybe you're interested : in gold mines'?" ■ , • v ': ■ ^.. '; .'i- • "I'll say I- am,"'responded Dixon qiiitc'eagfitlj^ ,.„ . . Ca - . .' Every Tuesday " Is there a town w hero we're going?" asked Anne. "Sure," nodded Jim. '■ Skyfields isn't much of a town, but it is one of sorts. You see, I practically own the place. Sort o' one-man town, you might say." "Don't tell me you're the mayor?" breathed Anne. "Yes, ma'am," chuckled Jim. "And just wait till you meet my council- men ! What do you say, both of you ? To-morrow's boat 1" "Suit me fine," declared Dixon with enthusiasm. "I shall just love it!" cried Anne. They embarked next day upon the steamship Paxton, belonging to the Columbia line, for San Diego; and at San Diego they boarded a train on the Southern Pacific Railroad for Ryolite, the nearest mining-town to Skyfields, as Jim explained. " It's right on the fringe of the Colo- rado Desert," he said. "It's going to be a real experience for you. We shall just about niake Ryolite in time for breakfast." The Train from San Diego. RY^OLITE was a typical mining- town at the foot of the Sierras, within a few miles of the great desert—a town of frame buildings and log cabins, in which men lived*more or less at peace with their wives and chil- dren, subject- to disturbances from three rival gangs of bandits who occa- sionally rode into its main street, bent on amusement or pillage. The centre of attraction for lihe wilder spirits of the place, and for those who rode into town, was the Ryolite Bar, a long, low-built saloon which boasted a dancing floor as well as some sort of orchestra. And at about the hour that the niglit mail left San Diego on its long journey across the Colorado Desert into Arizona the swarthy and bearded Bill McBride, leader of one bandit gang, was in close converse with a mean-faced rascal known as Winnipeg at one of the tables. ' Winnipeg w-as leader of a gang that operated largely in the region of Palm Springs, and consequently was not a rival of McBride in any true sense. But McBride had invited Winnipeg to join forces with him even as Beaver had reported to Jim, and this meeting was concerned with the fusion. "I'm surprised," grunteil Winnipeg, puffing at his foul pipe, "that Cardew liasn't been hung ah'cady." ■"It ain't too late for hangitig to happen,'' responded McBride signifi- cantly. "That's why I sent for you." "I owe him.plenty," said Winnipeg. "Thanks for lettin' me in on the frolic. Coin' to string him up, eh?" "Kinda thought you'd like it. You and mc don't get in one another's way —he gets in both your way and mine. Been gallivantin' off to 'Frisco, but he's duo back 'most any time now." " Guess we'll get ready for him !"- "Yeah, we " McBride broke off abruptly as tho door of the sa.loon was pushed open and Beaver jimbled across to tho bar, followed by eight other men in co-w'boy clotlics.'. lie dug an elbow into Winni- peg's ribs. " Cardew must be comin' in to-night," he said in a hoarse whisper, "or they wouldn't be here !" He pushed back his chair and,'rising, went over to the bar. "You didn't expect to sec me here to- night., did you?" he said menacingly to Beaver, whose companions wore looking at two dancing-girls.