Boy's Cinema (1933)

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14 Ormsby nor Casino greeted bine with awe or uneasiness, for no locality had ever been cursed with a more hopelessly incompetent or a shiftier specimen of authority than this harassed wretch. Judcll possessed none of the qualities essential for the office he held, and right from the start he had been clay in Ormsby's hands. In the first place he had been unprincipled enough to accept bribes, and now he was a brow-beaten pawn of the Paint Horse Gang—a sorry individual criticised and censured by impatient citizens, badgered by Ormsby and his toughs—striving to retain some outward semblance of dignity before the public, crawling like a worm to the scoundrels with whom he was secretly in league. "Can I bust in on you a moment, colonel ?" he now inquired, speaking like a man fearful of giving offence. "I—■ I've got a telegram here, an' I don't know what to do with it." He held out the missive in question, and, taking it, Ormsby observed that it was addressed to Tom Munroe, c/'o the Sheriff, Silver City. Who Tom Munroe might be the double-dealing colonel could not tell, for there was no one of that name in town. "So you don't know what to do with this, eh. Judell?" Ormsby commented. "I should have thought that you'd open it." "It ain't for me," Judell murmured, shuffling his feet. "Nor for me," the colonel stated, but with the words he carefully unsealed the envelope and removed the sheet of note- paper that it contained. "Ro situation in Gilda County, I suggest you see Colonel Ormsby, head of Vigilantes Committee as soon as you receive this. He may be useful to you. Regards. Woolcott, Governor, State of Arizona." Ormsby frowned as he read the mes- sage, and then he looked up at Judell. "Who is this Tom Munroe?" he demanded. " Did you ever hear of him?" "It seems to me I have," the sheriff muttered, stroking his fat chin. "I think lie used to be United States Marshal down in the Injun Territory." Conversation was again interrupted, this time by the arrival of a buckboard outside the window. A young and pretty girl was handling the reins, and as Ormsby caught sight of her he addressed Casino. "There's your sister Norma," he said. "Looks as if she's coming in here." He was right, for the girl presented herself in the office a few seconds later and on seeing Judell she spoke to him in a tone that sounded bitter. "You're supposed to be the sheriff of this county," she snapped, "and I think it's high time you did something about this Paint Horse Gang." Judell fidgeted uncomfortably, but ere he could make a reply Ormsby interrupted in his suave voice. "Now, Norma," he protested, "don't get excited. We're all doing our best to round up these scoundrels, and Judell here is as anxious as you are to see them behind the bars." Norma Laird turned to him appeal- ingly. "Colonel Ormsby," she said, "I know you're making every effort to lay your hands on these bandits, but you need real support." This with a somewhat scornful glance at Judell. "Meanwhile, honest men affe being butchered, and I can't tell you the shock I had when I heard about poor Mr. Patterson. He was an old friend of our family " "Quite, Norma, quite," the colonel Jane 3rd, 1933. ■ BOY'S CINEMA murmured, "and I know just how you feel, for I was horrified myself. But I've just had news that the governor is sending a man down here " "One man!" the girl broke in hotly. "W T hy, fifty men couldn't clean out that bunch of paint horse riders. It's in- credible to think that a situation like this can be treated so lightly up at the Capitol. Don't they realise that folk are being robbed and murdered?" Her brother laid a hand on her arm. "Now tone down. Norma," he urged. "You're acting as if we'd been raided ourselves." "There's no telling when we might be," the girl retorted, "especially with you away from the ranch so often. I'd like to know what you're doing half the time when you ought to be helping me run the. outfit." Casino made no answer, and Norma turned to Ormsby again. "Colonel," she declared, "I'm afraid Sheriff Judell hasn't been much benefit to the people here, and I only hope that you and your vigilantes make some headway pretty soon, or this county isn't going to be worth living in." She walked out of the office, and, left alone, the three men were silent for a spell, Judell looking the picture of confusion. Then Little Casino spoke. "You were talkin' about this Tom Munroe," he muttered. "I seem to have heard the name, too, and if I ain't mistaken he's pretty useful with his irons." "I don't suppose he'll affect the situa- tion much," Ormsby rejoined with a careless shrug. "He probably won't be here very long." Tom Munroe. ABOUT an hour after Ormsby's interview with Judell and Little Casino the town of Silver City was startled by the appearance of a group of horsemen who rode in from the east. Two of them were wounded and had the sullen air of miscreants caught red- handed in some -transgression. Two other men, obviously of the same breed, were cantering just in front of them, and the rear was brought up by a stal- wart young fellow in cowboy rig. The latter was carrying an assortment of guns, and, to judge from the pair of rogues who had been injured, he had obviously made a fourfold capture after a grim duel. The news of the stranger's arrival with the prisoners spread like wildfire, and Ormsby received it from two rascally-looking individuals who blun- dered into his office unceremoniously. They were Tad and Tim McPherson, the brothers whom Little Casino had mentioned with such repugnance some time previously—a couple of men who made a pretence of running a small ranch up in the hills, though actually they earned a sinister livelihood as members of the Paint Horse Gang. Ormsby looked at them with some annoyance as they crossed the threshold of his sanctum. "What's the idea?" he snapped. "I told yon never to come to this office, didn't I? You know your reputations aren't too good in this town." "Listen, chief," said Tad, the elder, ignoring the rebuke, "there's a guy comin' in with the four bo^3 you sent out after them Indian ponies. He's rounded 'em up." Ormsby forgot his resentment at their intrusion, and seizing his hat he stepped out into the street. About thirty or forty yards away he saw a mob of men Every Tuesday and women, and in the midst of them he observed the stranger and his cap- tives. They had halted outside the sheriff's quarters, and Judell was con- fronting them in the doorway, flushed of countenance and uneasy in manner. Ormsby approached as the stalwart young stranger was turning over the prisoners to Silver City's representative of the law. "Four horse thieves that I picked up over on the Red Rock Indian Reserva- tion," the newcomer was saying. "Better get 'em inside and lock 'em up." "Sure," Judell mumbled. "Sure." And with agitated haste he proceeded to haul the crooks from their horses and push them through the doorway. The stranger dismounted to assist hinr, and the crowd looked on. Little Casino was among the spectators, and was watching the affair when the two McPhersons joined him. Near by was a small man in a frock-coat, a tall hat, a fancy waistcoat and a pair of tight- fitting trousers, one of those "gentlemen of fortune" who made the South-West their happy hunting-ground in the 'eighties. He was known as "Lucky " Dawson, and he was a born gambler. He lived by the cards, but he played square, and in that respect he was a better citizen than many a man more respectably employed. A likeable little fellow, too, with a bold if somewhat cynical eye. There were few among that crowd who could compare with Lucky Dawson where natural shrewdness was concerned, for he made it. his business to be par- ticularly observant of his fellow-men. Perhaps that was why he now paid some attention to Bernie Laird and the McPhersons. "Say, Casino," he drawled all at once, "I'll bet you five to one that there ain't one of them horse thieves in gaol two hours after sunset." Casino glanced at him quickly, and then avoided his eyes. Tim McPherson spoke. "Why don't you take him, kid?" he said with a leer. "Maybe them hombres won't be let out till midnight." Even while Ormsby's ruffianly hire- ling offered this comment the prisoners were being placed under lock and key, and presently the crowd began to break up. In the meantime Sheriff Judell had begun to question the dare-devil who had brought the crooks to town. "Did you catch those fellers all by yourself?" he inquired. The stranger leaned against Judell's desk. "Yeah," he said with a slow grin, "I kinda surrounded 'em. By the way, my name is Tom Munroe." Judell started, appeared a little flustered, and then tugged something from his pocket. "Aw, I mighta known," he stammered. "I had word that you was a-comin', and say, I've got a telegram here for you— from the governor." He handed Tom Munroe the com- munication, and glancing at the en- velope, the marshal saw that there was nothing on it to indicate the identity of the sender. But on turning it over he noticed - that the flap had been opened and re-sealed, in a manner that might have deceived nine men out of ten but not the keen-eyed gunfighter from the Indian terrority. "What did the governor have to say?" Tom asked pointedly, and the blundering Judell was thoroughly taken aback as he realised that he had made a slip of the tongue.