Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday -♦♦ "The Fighting Legion." (Continued from page 9.) "Listen, boys," he stated, "what I said to-day was the truth—I'm out to round up the coyote that killed Tom Dawson. What's more, I've got a pretty good idea who he is. But I want to make him show his hand first, and I'd eure like to depend on you all to help mc if the rowdies step in." There was a chorus of approving cries as his listeners assured him of their aid. "Thanks, boys," Dave went on, "that's fine. And now I'll tell you what I'm goin' to do. I'm goin' to have a notice posted up in town, and I'm goin' to have a round-up in the saloon to- morrow at midnight."- Towards Midnight. E AN nnk^iown hand had pinned a notice to the veranda post of the cantinu or saloon. The hand might have been the Ranger's. At any rate, the message which had been written on the sheet of paper bore his eignature. "I am coming through the saloon doorway on the stroke of midnight," it ran, "and I am coming for the man who killed Tom Dawson." The hands of the clock behind the bar of the cantina had moved round to ten- thirty, and it was ticking away the fateful seconds with unfaltering Kolomnity. The soiuid of the ticking was lost in the prevailing clamour of men's voices and the clinking of glasses, but it was a sound that one man heard all too plainly—a sound that seemed to hammer at his brain till he could have cried out in the agony of a tortured mind. That man was Bowie, and, seated at a table near the door with Blake and Edwards, lie watched the swing of the pendulum as a hypnotised victim watchet the ewaying of a cobra-snake's head. Outside, the notice on the veranda post was flapping damply in a gusty wind that brought sheets of stinging rnin in its bosom, and before the clock had chimed the quarter the downpour had become a veritable deluge. Those inside the saloon could hear it crashing through the black night on to the roofs of the houses, and the wind shrieked and whistled through the street as if all the demons of the nether world had been let loo.se. And this unholy din was presently added to by a rumbling of thunder. "Tough outside, ain't it?" someone was saying. "Meanest night I've ever known. Hey, d'ye think that hombre will show up to-night?" "Ef he does," another man rejoined, one of the rogues in the pay of Blake and Edwards, "there's a lot of us boys has bones to pick with him." Many others in the saloon were of the same way of thinking, but in a corner sat a group of men whose hands were ready on their six-sliooters—men who knew that, unless they stood by Dave, Bowdeii would not be fit for an honest man to live in. There was a plot afoot, a plot to un- serve the man Bowie till he was ready to blurt out the truth, and that plot had its culmination on the very stroke of midnight, when Bowie, with fingers clutching at his gun-butt, wheeled to see the door swing wide. Bowie whipped out his "iron," and was not alone in doing so, for several BOY'S CINEMA of the ruffians at the bar followed suit. But in the same instant, from behind them all, there came a sharp command reiterated in a dozen voices. "Drop those .45's! Come on, thar— down with yer artillery an' up with yer mitts! Shove 'em high, will ye?" Cloudy Jones and a party had entered by the back of the saloon. Together with the Hook brothers. Pop Williams, the bar-tenders and every law-desiring citizen in town, they held up the entire bar-room. Dave Hayes walked across the threshold. His eyes were fixed on Bowie. "So you drew your gun, huh?" he drawled. "You knew it was you I was comin* for, huh?" Then his tone changed, and he gripped the cringing scoundrel by the shoulder. "Come on, rat!" he blazed. "Tell 'em who killed Dawson the Ranger. Tell 'em, or by Heaven "- "I'll tell!" sobbed Bowie. "It was me killed him. Yeah, me—shot him in the back like you said " "I know that," Dave ground out; "and now I want to know something else. Who were the men that hired you to bump Dawson off ? Better talk, Bowie," he added, as the rogue hesi- tated. "It's your once chance of savin' your neck." Bowie moistened his lips. "John Blake," he faltered, "was one. An' the other " A shot crashed out, and from Bowie came a strangled cry that ended in a death-rattle. Lifeless he pitched to the floor, and in the same .'iioir.ent there reached Dave's ears, from the direction of the hotel register-oflice, a scream in Molly's voice. Dave sprang to the curtains that hung over the doorway which led to the lobby, and as he wrenched them aside he saw the figure of Burl Edwards, a smoking si.\-gun in one hand and his free arm around Molly's waist. The man had vanished with the struggling girl an instant later, plunging out of the hotel into the rain. Dave stumbled across the lobby in pursuit, and as he gained the street he saw Edwards shoving Molly into a build- ing some little distance away. He reeled towards that bu'lding through the storm, and, fairly hurling himself against the door, he blundered over the threshold into a dark room. 27.; The muzzle of a six-shooter was jabbea viciously into his ribs. "Keep still,'- said the voice of Edwards, and then there came the sound of the doov being kicked shut. Edwards spoke again: "Ranger," he snarled, "I'm goin' to send you on a long trip—ter Kin^om Come. The walls of this place are tnick,j an' the storm's ragin'. No one will hear this gun. And when you're gone. Ranger, I'll make a long trip myself— with Molly Williams " Dave took a chance, and brought his hand slicing down to clutch at the gang- leader's wrist. The .45 went off with a, smashing detonation, but the bullet thudded into the floor, and next second the two men were swaying across the room in a fierce struggle for possessioa of the weapon. "The light, Molly!" jerked Dave, and a moment later, with furniture crashing about her as the combatants overturned it in their savage scuflBe, the girl found matches and a lamp. She striic!: one of the matches, held the flame to the lamp and then turned. The two men were sprawled across a couch. Edwards held the gun, but Dave's grasp was still on his wrist, and the weapon blazed harmlessly at the ceiling as Dave forced the crook's arm outward and up- ward. Edwards broke free, but a flasiriiig punch to the jaw flung him in a corner, and the six-gun slid from his haiid. When at length he struggled to his feet Dave was covering him. "I reckon it's you who'll take that trip, Edwards," he said, "by way of the hangman's noose—and John Blake will be the one to travel with you, not Molly " A double ceremony wa.s taking place in Bovvden, Dave and Cloudy being the principals. No, it was no wedding cere- mony, but the ceremony of taking the oath of enlistment in that world- renowned force—the Texas Ranger Service. Had Bowden possessed a newspaper at that early stage of its career it might have mentioned in its report on the func- tion that Mrs. Dave Hayes was present, looking the proudest as well as the pret- tiest girl in town. (By permission of the Universal Films, Ltd., starrlnci Ken Maynard and his horse, Tarzan.) COMPLETE FILM NOVELS. "THE KISS." The drama of a woman caught in the toils oi jealousy and suspicion —fighting for her hJe and unable to tell the truth. " THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE." France in the years immediately before the great revolution. Marie Antoinette, its selfish queen, caught in a network oS intrigue which involves a necklace worth a small fortune. "SPRING IS HERE." Cupid at large in a gale of laughter. A romantic comedy, starring Beruice Claire, Lawrence Gray, and Alexander Gray. " CRAZY THAT WAY." A hilarious comedy of three men and a maid—she preferred two fiances to one husband. Starring Greta Garbo and Conrad Nagel in " THE KISS." Joan Bennett, i Don't miss these four grand complete novels in this week's .issue ol « SCREEN STORIES." Out on Wednesday. Price 2d. SeptpmlJer ?th,,Jp,30.