Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday I expect. We'll have to luuiy !" said Dick earnestly. "Never mind—go and get them !" said Marge, and for the first time for many a y«ar there was real anger in her voice. Marge Holt was a very, very disap- pointed young woman. Bob Lansing was, after all, a rustler. The Accusation ! AT the very moment that Marge Holt led out her cowboys Bob and Ben were sitting beside a camp-fire, resting after a meal. It !-hould have been a cheerful meal, see- ing tliat it was had in freedom they had not expected when tliey had turned in tlie previous night. But it was not a cheery meal at all. Bob was preoccupied all the time, and tiic clatter he made when ho suddenly flung a stone witli vicious force at their water-OiUi brought Ben to earth with a startled cry. "Shucks! YouMl rouse the whole dis- trict with that row!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter with you? Want a rope round your neck?" ■'I've just remembered where I met that girl—it was at the slum restau- rant!" exclaimed Bob, and rose quickly to, his feet. "I'm going Iwck!" ."Going back? What for?" ejaculated the startled Ben. "She'll be thinking we really arc rustlers—running away like wq. did," said Bob. "I'm not standin' for that— and it's no good your talking, cither! We're going back I" "More washing up — and perhaps they'll set us to wash the socks and shirts—woman's work !" growled the dis- gusted Ben. "We'll risk that! I'm not letting that girl think I'm a rustler," said Bob firmly, and with that he made for his horse. , , , , ,. Ben followed reluctantly, but duti- fully If Mr. Bob could risk his nock by going back, it was up to him to make it easier by keeping Bob company. They rode the trail in silence, Ben despairing more and more as they got nearer to Marge Holt's range, and Bob showing more and more eagerness to meet up with the girl. But they wore destined not to meet up witli her in the circum- stances they planned. Bob pulled up his horse with- a sudden jiM-k as. riding the crest of a hill, ho saw below him a herd of cattle in :harge of a number of men. " Halt ! Can you see ,vhat cattle tlioy are?" he demanded tensely. "Bar 0 !" announced Ben a moment later, ""^''ou can see the brand on tlicir haunciies !" "What's a herd doing out here at this time of day—making for the lioider-line?" said Bob. "Say, Ben, maybe they've been rustled! If ,we drove them back, and picked up a rustler or two we'd sure c!e:ir ourselves I Snakes! Tliey've been driven into a corral!" "Then there's no hope of clearing your- self-rsxpoct it's one of BOY'S CINEMA the dame's own corrals!" grunted.Ben. Bob did not answer. Ho never took his eyes off the scene before him. In- stead, he dug his heels and set his horse at a trot towards the wooded range, and Ben followed as a matter of course. There was no need to'ask any ques- tions when they dismounted from their horses a few yards from the shack into which they had watched the cowpunchers go. Voices came to them from within. "Well, that's uibout the easiest lift we have ever had !" "A good hundred head. .Tim—and the joke of it is that Marge Holt will be out for them city goomi)lis, and her buys'll shoot 'cm up on sight, so they can't spill the beans!" It was a joke—it must have been, judging by the laughter that followed. But to Bob it was anything but a joke. He had hoard her name now— Marge Holt. .\iid this was her cattle. Untrained to the range though he was. Bob needed no telling that the herd was well hidden, and that it would be quite an easy matter for the cowpunchers to ride around the wooded corral and miss all that it hid. "You follow my lead, Ben. We're going to do some business!" muttered Bob grimly, and with a calmness that stagg<'rod Beti, He stepped towards the shack door. Rifles and guns greeted him, but he looked at them with a contempt that might have suggested he lived in such an atmosphere of con.stant threat and danger. For one tense moinent the men in the hut and the newcomers surveyed one another—and there was not a flicker of surprise in Bob's face when his eyes re .■-ted. for one brief second, upon tliose of th<! man Dick, from Bar O ranch. " Well,' mister ?" queried .Jim Stone, very quietly, his right hand moving ever so slightly to those behind him as a warning not to start shooting. "Seeing that Bar O cattle coming into jour corral, I sort o' reckoned you do 23 bu-inOss in a pretty small way," said Bob easily. "I'm interested—but with a place like this, stranger, why don't you wipe up the district?" There were gasps all round at the calm aiinouncenient, and eyes that had been full of suspicion changed imme- diately to wonder. "I don't reckon on rustling a hundred head or so. I've got a pretty good gang of my own, mister, and I'm sur« startin' on clearing the district. Scein' as you're also interested, perhaps we'd better have a sort o' understanding," went on Bob; and even Ben nearly gasped at that. Bob was as calm and convincing as if he had discussed such matters as rustling u hole herds all his life. To make matters even more plain, he calmly ignored the guns and sat down at the table. He was up the next moment, how- (ver, for with startling suddenness there hurst into the room the very person for whom he was planning so cunning a tight. It was Marge Holt ! For a moment they stared at her, she returning their stare with eager wonder. " So you've got them—^aiid my cattle !" she said breathlessly. "Dick, the boys are out on the range! (U)t them along and have the cattle driven back " "Wait a minute—wait a minute!" said Jim Stone slowly. " N'ot so fast! Those cattle ain't goin' back!" "What do you mean?" gasped Marge. "Dick, I saw you cut off from the boys, and followed you Oh!" She broke off with another little gasp, and stared round at Ben and then up at Bob. But the hitter's face was im- passive. "So—you are—a rustler!" she mut- tered, as the. truth dawned upon her. "And you—Dick?" Dick turned his head, and it was .Jim Stone who cut down the surprises and got to business. Bob fought with flsts and feet, leaping from spot to spot and bunk to bunk.