Boy's Cinema (1935-39)

24 *" There was a murmur of satisfaction f • >i;t tlie band of outlaws. Then Gilles- pie swung himself from the saddle of his horse ana handed the animal's rein to Hank Eodgers. "Take care of my bronc, Hank," he ordered. "I'll ride in the coach with Morgan. Come on out, Limpy—you, too. Butch—and you, Pete." Clem's "fellow-passengers" emerged from the stage, and Gillespie clambered in, leering at their captive villainously. Then, with the rest of the gang ready for the road. Jake C'onroy whipped up the team of ponies harnessed to the vehicle, and the whole cavalcade moveu off in a south-westerly direction. Hot on the Trail MARY and Ann had reached the lower range with Montana and his party, and had paused there to watch the Parker hands round up the five hundred head of cattle intended for Auburn. When this task had been accomplished. Montana rejoined the two girls on the slope from which they had witnessed operations. "Well, looks like we are on our way to Auburn," he said to them. "Would you like some of the boys to ride back to the ranch with you? Three or four of us could easily handle the herd.'' "Oh, no, Montana," Mary answered considerately. "I guess the men are all looking forward to a little spree when they get to town, and I don't think we ought to deprive them of their fun. Ann and I will bo all right." "Okay." the ex-deputy agreed. "Have it your own way." He carried his gloved hand to his sombrero and then wheeled to ride off in the direction of the herd, the girls following him with their eyes until he and his comrades were driving the cattle at a steady pace across the range. "I believe, you like Montana Larkin. don't you?" Ann commented, giving Mary an arch, sidelong glance. The rancher's daughter coloured a trifle, and then smiled. "Who wouldn't?" she retorted. "What's mope, I believe he likes me, too." "I shouldn't be surprised,'" Ann mur- mured knowingly, and a moment later sjie and her cousin were turning for home. For a while they rode at a canter, but presently, in a spirit of gaiety, Mary challenged the other girl to a race, de- signating the Dry Creek ranch-house as Hie winning-post. "All right, then," Ann agreed with a laugh. "I'll back my pony against yours any day." The (wo of them urged their horses imIo a gallop and dashed across-country at breakneck pace, each vying with the other in her efforts to draw ahead, and each enjoying the freshness of the wind as it whipped a bloom into her face. Put at length Marv's bronc began lo force its way in front, and, (hough still a fair distance from home, the rancher's daughter felt confident that her mount would last the course. for she knew it was in the peak of ci >n.Iii ion. She was thirty yards in front of Ann when she topped the crest of a smooth. rounded bill, and it was as she reached I he summit of this that she descried something which caused her lo draw rein abruptly. A troop of horsemen were passing through u valley away below her. a troop of horsemen who were strung out behind a lumbering stage coach. Ann came abreast of her and brought her pony to a standstill. December 28tli. 1935. BOY'S CINEMA "What's the matter?" she demanded of her cousin. " Why have you stopped?" "Ann," Mary ejaculated, "those look like some of Gil Gillespie's gang!" She was pointing into the valley, and, following the direction of her extended arm, the other girl descried the men who were travelling along the bed of the great hollow. Yes, they were Gillespie's gang, sure enough. Even though they were a good way off, it was possible to recognise some of them. -^ "You're right, Mar3 r ," Ann breathed. "We'd better get under cover for fear they happen to spot us." They backed into a coppice, and from the shelter of the trees they gazed down at the crooks without any risk of being observed. "What do you suppose they're doing with that stage?" Ann queried. "I don't know," Mary rejoined. "I imagine there's been a hold-up of some kind, but it beats me why thej r should want to take the coach along with them." Her cousin pursed her lips. "Anyway," she opined, "I guess we'd be well advised to wait here until they're out of sight. I don't think we'd be too popular if they knew we'd seen them." "I'm with you there, Ann," Mary answered. "We'll wait until the coast is clear." Wait they did, and then, crossing the valley, they continued their journey to- wards home at a moderate pace, the interrupted race being quite forgotten now. And a short time afterwards they gained the Dry Creek ranch-house, little dreaming what was to meet their eyes as they entered the living-room. Halting in front of the dwelling, they slid to the ground and tethered their ponies, after which the two of them climbed the steps of the porch. Mary was the first to set foot on the threshold of the living-room, and as she beheld the trussed figures of Happy and her father she uttered a sharp cry. An instant afterwards she was joined by Ann, from whose lips there came a half- stifled scream. "Dad!" Mary gasped, running for- ward - to the chair in which the elderly cattleman was huddled. "Oh, dad, what happened ?" "Four of the Gillespie gang were here." Jim Parker told her strainedly. "The Gillespie gang!" Ann broke in. "Oh, Uncle Jim, is my father all right?" "Yes, it wasn't him they came for, dear," he replied in reassuring tones. "But they rifled the safe, and they took Clem Morgan away in a stage coach." " A stage coach !" Ann and Mary reiterated the words in the same breath and exchanged a startled glance. Then the rancher's daughter spoke again. "You untie dad and Happy," she said to her cousin. "I'll go alter Mon- tana and the boys!" She rushed from the house and scrambled astride her pony, unhitching it from the rail of the porch and jabbing her heels into the animal's flanks. Next second the creature was bounding away from the ranch, and at the top of its speed it bore her over the mesqnito in headlong style, with 'lie silken hair of its mane streaming be: k from its grace- ful neck. Onward Mary galloped, racing through canyon and vale, breasting cane-brakes and thickets, weaving her way through belts of woodland; and at last she espied a greal (loud of dust tevery Tuesday ahead of her, dust that rose from in- numerable hoofs. The cloven feet of the Parker herd en route for Auburn were responsible for that haze, and, catching up with the men who were driving the cattle on- ward, the girl drew rein alongside Montana Larkin. "Mary," her father's foreman ex- claimed. "Is anything wrong?" "Plenty!" came the terse rejoinder. "Gillespie's gang have got Clem in a stage coach, and the last I saw of them it looked as if they were headed for Hell's Gate." Montana ripped out an imprecation and turned to Jinglebob, who was close by. "Your brother can get into more jams than any man I ever knew!" he said. "Mary, you'd better go back to the ranch. I'll take a bunch of the boys and see if I can head off Gillespie and his men." "You stand a good chance," she told him. "They weren't travelling fast." "Good!" Montana jerked, and then, summoning his comrades, he explained the situation to them and instructed two or three of them to take charge of the herd while the rest followed him to- wards the Hell's Gate trail. Leaving Mary to return homeward and the cattle to proceed for Auburn under the care of the men detailed for the job of taking thern thither, Mon- tana and the rest of the band swung southward with determined mien; and soon the hoofs of their broncs were beating a staccato tattoo upon the sun- swept prairie levels that lay between the rescuers and the hill country. With their ponies going at full stretch, the hard-riding punchers left the plains behind them and clattered into the rougher terrain of the mountain realms, and half an hour after quitting the Auburn trail they swept clear of a gloomy ravine, to see the Gillespie gang and the stage coach not five hundred yards in front of them. They were spotted by the outlaws a few seconds later, and there was a con- fused stir amongst the rogues the in- stant they became aware that trouble was bearing down on them in the shape of the Parker ranch-hands. "Larkin and his mob!" shouted Butch Riley. There was a plunging and a wheeling of ponies, a drawing of guns and a desultory racket of firing, hot lead whistling amid the oncoming men of the Dry Creek outfit. And in swiff response the "artillery " of Montana and his comrades belched flaming death. Brett's voice rose above the tumult of the forty-fives, restoring order where chaos had threatened. "Beat 'em back!" he roared. "Give 'em all you got, fellers, and stand your ground !" The crooks rallied and fusilladed the advancing cowboys mercilessly, so that with two or three of their men struck clown, Montana's party were forced to slacken up in order to make effective reply. Meanwhile Brett was pulling his horse across to the coach occupied by Jake. Gillespie and their prisoner. "Go right ahead with Clem Morgan," the saloon-owner barked. "We'll hold nil Larkin an' his bunch. On your way, Jake! Beat it. will yuh?" Conroy seized the whip and lashed at his team of horses, driving them for- ward along the rough trail, so that in the interior of the slage Gillespie and Clem were pitched from side lo side by the mad momentum of the vehicle. As for Brett, he turned to resume com-