Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

12 When Wade Barton agreed to Inelp the beautiful Nita del Campo and her father against a ruthless band of crooks six- guns blazed and fists flew in this whirlwind story, adapted from the RKO Radio picture which stars George O'Brien aa the daredevil Wade Barton MURDER AT T^IE RANCHO TWO meu were talking in the oRice of the Couitiiey Pank in San Carlos. One, Jahn Coiutncy, was tliessed in city clothes, atid he seemed nervous. The other, in a c.ittieman's outfit, was his foreman, Ben vVillace, a bisr man with a strong face and a contemptuous glitter in his eyes as he tiateoed to his employer. John Courtney was worried about the late arrival of the stage-coach, which was carrying thirty thousand dpllars in gold consigned to h;.<! bank. "Well, I'm more interested in getting a_ is'ter from the State Capitol. John," Ben Wallace drawled. "What's thirty thousand doUara compared to the El Rio Eancho?" "The more I think of the El Rio situation," gaid John Courtney, pacing up and doxvn. "the less I like it. Del Campo and his family iren't going to allow themselves to be kicked oft' their land without a fight. Ancl if the Government ever found out we bri!)ed their Burveyors—why, they'd lock us up and throw tiio key away!" Ben Wallace grinned unpleasantly. "You haven't got the backbone of a canary! pidn't 1 help vou build the Courtney ranch into one of the biggest outfits in Texas? Didn't I fix it so you could take over this bank, without puttin' up a dime? I'll handle this." "Do you think my sister suspects any- thing?" asked Courtney hesitantly. "Well, why should Sandra su.spect?" said his foreman confidently. "She's never ques- tioned us before. Anyway, we'll be married in a couple of weeks." "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Ben. But' after we get control of the Del CamjX) land we're going to start walking the chalk line." "We can afford to then," said 'Wallace easily, and he looked up as he heard the rattle ar.d jingle of the stage-coach in the street outside. Something had happened. The driver had one arm in a sling, and escorting the coach was a band of haid-bilten riders, led by a oheery-looking young Westerner of magnifi- cent build. Wade Barton and his band of fighting buckaroos were famous in the old West. They hired their guns and fists to anyone who wanted some trouble settled. They were liable to turn up in any pioneer tov.ii or lonely ranch. That day they had been jogging on the 'trail to Pecos City, singing as they rode. Only Wade's right-hand man, Monty Bates, was glum. But, then, he was always pessimistic. Ho was a bulky man with an unshaven face and a pref(>rence for his old frock-coat, which was green with age; there was an orniite stud in his shirt, but he coiddn't stand collars. He was just announcing his desire for a quiet life when they heard shots. Tlio bandits who were chasing the coach had ohosen a had time. Wade Baitori and bis boys scattered them with a few well-aimed •hots, and W;ide thereby made (he acquaint- ance of dark and beautiful Nita del Campo, on her way home from ]\Ie\ico City. She was very grateful to the handsome young gunfighter for saving the coach; she did not try to conceal her pleasure wlien 'VVade readily accepted the driver's invitation to e.Mort the coach into San Carlos in case of further trouble. To Monty'.s disgust. Wade rode all the way olose to the window of the coach, chatting to the yoiuig Spanish girl. To two people at least that trip seemed veiy short. John Courtney and Ben Wall.^ce hurried out (>3 m.-3et the coach carrj'ing the daughter February ITtli, lOtO. BOY'S CINEMA Every Tuesday of the man they were out to swindle—and they met for the first time Wade Barton, who earned a living fightirjg such men as they. A peon had arrived with a buggy to take Nita to the rancho. She greeted Comtney and his foreman politely, and left with a warm good-bye for Wade Barton, after he had promised to come to the big fiesta which her father was giving that cvenuig in honour of her retiun. Wade watched her drive oflf, somewhat dazzled by her flashing smile, then found him- self being introduced to Courtney and Wallace, and another man of Wallace's stamp named Ranee Potter. "Seems like the Courtney outfit owe you a debt of giatitude. Barton," .said the foreman heartily. "Don't you think you ought to give them a reward for getting your money through, John?" "I most certainly do," said Comtney instantly. Wade Barton grinned, wondering why he had taken an instant dislike to these smiling men. "Forget it! The driver hired us and we've worked for the stage company before. I don't think there'll be any difficulty." "Well, thanks a lot, anyway," said Wallace. "Oh, if you're ever in need of work, look me up." As Wade turned away, the driver handed Coin-tney a letter—a special delivery from the capitol. "Well, it's the notice all right," the banker whispered to Ben Wallace; then he scowled angrily. "Yeah, but it gives Del Campo ten days in which to answer o\n- claim." Wallace snatched the letter and thought swiftly. "I've got an idea that'll stop Del Campo from answering anything," he said grimly. "Come on, we'll go and get hold of Sheriff Warren and have him go to the El Rio Rancho with us." Wade Barton went to the fiesta tha night, after having a bath, a haiicut and shave, and a new outfit of clothes which made him, as he e.xpressed it, "feel more like a human being." He had al.so learned nuinv things from Felipe, the barber: that Don Aliso del Campo was in great trouble; that John Comt- ney and Men Wallace, who m.-ule their own laws iti San Carlos, were trying to steal his land; that the old Don wouUi be glad to meet Wade Barton, who was known to fight for those who needed help. Felipe was a talkative man, and he gave Wade Barton much food for thought. Monty, pessimistic as ever, thought Wade was only gouig to the ranch to look into Senorita Nita's bright eyes; but Wade had other reasons than this for thinking San Carlos might repay a short stay. There was music, dancing and gaiety under the Texas moon, and Wade Barton, sitting with Nita and her father, found himself for- getting the dangers of the trail. But when Don Aliso embarrassed him by calling for a toast to the man who had saved his daughter, Wade found an opportunity to bring up (he matter that was uppermost in his mind. "It was nothing at all," Wade stated with a laugh, and then added in serious tones: "I overheard in San Carlos to-day that you might have a little trouble." "Who told you, senor?" said the Don sharply. " Felipe, the barber." "Felipe is my very good friend," said Don Aliso smoothly, "but he talks too much." "Well, I just wanted you to know, Don Aliso, that I have twelve very good men, and they're ready to fight at the'drop of a hat— and \ye'd be glad to go to work for j^ou at any time." Don Aliso bowed. "Gracias, amigo; perhaps I shall call upon you. But enough of this talk. To-night ia for laughter and music and dancing." Not unwillingly, Wade took Nita to dance, and shortly afterwards Don Aliso was told Courtney was waiting to see him with the sheiifT. He went over and saluted the banker coldly. "My daughter has told me she extended to yo\i the hospitality of the fiesta," he said formally. " "ifou and Sheriff Warren are mos' welcome." "Well, we came over to take care of a little business," Courtney said brusquely. "I've got a paper you might be interested in reading." Don Aliso read it swiftly, and his eyea blazed. "This paper is nothing but lies, Senor Courlney!" "Well, if that's what you think," said the banker calmly, "all you have to do is offer proof to the State." "But it says I have only ten days!" Don Aliso gestured impatiently. "Come into the i