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HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Herald, 1930-11-06, Page 2The gringo Privateer By PETER B. KYNE SYNOPSIS. Kenneth Burney adventurer and one- time gentleman, comes to BradoeY fab. r - din, king of the cattle country, Burney has had a light with Martin Bruce, arival cattle owner who has been stealing the king's stock, aided by Mi- guel Gallegos, a Mexican b indicet. s he king, liking young Burney, im general manager of the ranch on condi- tion that he puts Bruce and Gallegos out of the way. Burney meets Bruce, who has sworn . They boththeir guns, butill Buriney outwits the raw old catle thief. Meanwhile Muriel I3ardin, beautiful hter of the king, becomes more in- terested t tete terested in Burney than she cares admit. She tries to persuade her lather not to let Burney tackle the cattle just as quickly, Bledsoe. It's rejected. thieves. But Burney continues to a to You're too good a man to leave the s dans for the battle the ice and too old a man to go hi. a king's service g me. state co prowling around the sovereign of New Mexico looking for another job. I doubt if you would find one as good as the one you wish to resign, and certainly you'll not find one with any decent future to it. So my orders to you are to withhold your resigna- tion for about sixty days. By that time I will have completed my tour of service as general manager and you can come over and teek a notice of your own on that bulletin board. How- ever, I believe in liberty, and if you insist on resigning, I suppose I'll have to get t. new riding boss, but I warn you that, once you're out, you'll stay out." Toni Bledsoes dour face began to slip. Slowlya glad smile lighted it:' "Thee means that, Mr. Burney?" "Certainly. Haven't you known the king long enough to know that he never explains. He acts. And haven't you known him long enough to know he's just? He knows you're capable and that, by reason of long and faith- ful service, you have earned promo- tion. You are going to get it. He told me so tonight. Pm just here to plant Martin Bruce and Miguel Gal- legos beneath the cactus and grana grass, and as soon as that job is done I'll be on my way, although I must inform you, Brothe. Bledsoe, that if I desire to do so I can remain indefi- nitely, and you'll be moved off to man- age some small ranch of the king's." "1 vont no small job an' I want no charity, Mr. Burney." "I understand. You wait your rights and you figure El Ranchito part of them. At present, however, clean- ing leaning up El Ranchito so it will be on the Baying basis it should be is a job that would be repugnant- to you, and the king knows it. So I'm to clean it up for you. and after that it will run along under your managemen; like a new red buggy.". Toni Bledsoe held out his hand, obliged to thee, young man." "Not at all." "Perhaps thee might need help on this cleaning job, Mr. Burney?" "Yes, Ill require some help. I'11 want about thirty good men who can shoot and aren't afraid to. They may have to do battle down in El Cajon Bonita, although I shall try to avoid that. However, I shall have to make a demonstration." The Quaker's face had set again. "1 will find thee such men, Mr. Burney, an' I will go with thee—for war or demonstration. It is not sinful to protect that which is thine." Purney stared at the man. "Whose bread 1 eat his song I sing, eh?" Tont Bledsoe nodded. He was of the old school of cowmen. His employ- er's joys, sorrows and perplexities were his, too. "Ever itch to ride down into El Cajon Bonita and clean out this Bruce -Gallegos faction, Mr. Bledsoe?" "I tell thee this. It would have been my first act as general manager." "How fortunate you and I have so quickly gotten to an understanding, Mr. Bledsoe." "The general manager calls me Tom, Mr. Burney." "Tom goes with me. Where can you find me thirty good inen and true?" "They will be thine own men, Mr. Burney. Old hands." Service, 73 West Adelaide St., Toronto. "I. understand Gallegos has not, ask Graydon's desk. "I was settin' in front o' the bunkhouse, Mr, Burney, when I saw thee come into the office; then I saw thee come out .an' tack somethin' on the bulletin board, so I drifted over to read what thee had tacked there, Then I made up my mind to call" "And present to me your resigna- tion as riding boss, eh?" "Thee gets hie mighty quick," Tom Bledsoe answered. "And I dispose of your resignation chance he doesiJl El Cajon Bonita, where he is immune from United States law:" "The hyena! Who is Miguel Gal- legos?" "A half-breed Irishman His mother was an Italian an' he became a natur- alized citizen of Mexico. During the Mader"a rebellion he wase, generel an' more recently he's bcrome a sort of bandit, but clainiin' to be a p He's the law in that part of Mexico an' after eighteen year o' war an' riot, about all the Mexican Government can do is handle the tough ones an' leave the little ones alone until they get too bad. He's got the local federal officials buffaloed, an' they're sort o' cateein' to him in the hope he won't organize a revolution again 'em. He does about what he pleases." "Has Mr. Graydon complained ,to the Mexican federal officials about hint?" "No, sir. Ain't had flotilla' to com- plain about. All we got is suspicion. Martin Bruce don't own a hectare o' land in Mexico, but the king's got a sound title to El Cajon Bonita an' we figggr Bruce wants it, an' has set Gal- legos up to makin' things so uncom- fortable an' unprofitable there we'll pull out to save loss an' bloodshed; then Bruce'll take it over an' range his catt:a on it. I wouldn't be sur- prised if Gallegos is his silent partner, doin' the dirty work for his. share." (To be continued.) CHAPTER XIV. "You're developing too much inter- est in this young lean, Muriel.". "Well, I'll not have you butting in on the rights of the general manager of your social department, Brad Bar - din, because the day you do, any ex- cuse for ley further existence as the Bardin hostess will vanish and I'll be• headed down the aisle with one of those ukelele -playing, wise -cracking, gilded young nincompoops in my social set." "This," said the king, "is treason." "If this be treason, make the most of it," she challenged. "You've intro- duced me to the realest man I've ever met and now you plan to keep me away from him. Haven't' I any rights?" "This is all wrong," the king blus- tered. "If you please, Muriel, we'll not discuss the subject further. You may invite him if you please. I shall offer no objection and shall make him welcome. But I warn you he will not accept the invitation." "Why?" "Because he's as wise as a treeful of owls and knows his place. He knows I'd fire him if he accepted. It would be presuming on brief acquaintance." "I've met him—and when I invite him he'll come. Of course, as a mere rider he'd mount that fast Horse of his and get out of the country before presuming so on brief acquaintance, but as your general manager he'll feel he's stepped up a bit in the social world." "I'm afraid you're right," said the king. "Muriel, your interested in this boy?„ "Are you?" "Certainly." "Well?" • "If you're not seriously interested, of course—" "I am seriously interested—suffi- ciently so, at any rate, to do niy best to prevent him from soiling his rather nice hands in human blood." "I'm all worn out," the king growl- ed, and immediately rose and went to bed. In the realization that his daugh- ter had eavesdropped on him he was profoundly irritated and disturbed. In a word, he felt like a dog caught suck- ing eggs. El Ranchito had its own lighting system and -a 111 -candle-power light burned over the entrance to the ranch office. Ken Burney searched through desks until he found a package of thumb tacks, whereupon he went out- side and posted on the bulletin board the formal notice of his appointment as general manager. After which, he retired to Art Graydon's private office, sat down on the cot prepared there and drew off his boots. For a long time he sat there, considering the var- ious aspects of the abrupt about-face which life had executed for him within the past four days, when there came a peremptory knock at the outer en- trance. Ken padded across in his bare feet and found Tom Bledsoe standing in the entrance. "Come in, Mr. Bledsoe," he invited the riding boss cheerfully. "I've been anticipating a visit from you, but not quite so soon. I figured we'd have a conference in the morning, but since it's the mere shank of the evening now we'll fly at it." Bledsoe came ineand sat down on Swordfish Game To the Last Gasp A Graphic Description of the Pursuit of Wary Fighter of the Ocean A lightning -quick lunge of the strong, barbed spear—a writhing, swirling flash cf lustrou,l blue just beneath the clerked blue surface of the ocean—a lusty shout of "Got him!"— a square, sure hit—and for the rugged` striker's prize, a giant swordfish, nine feet from sharp point of sword to tip of quivering tail -fin; Such is the thrill of the pursuit of the succulent swordfish off Block Is- land, as described in the Hartford "Courant." A eporter went sailing with Capt. Jack Millikin and Wilfred Pollard, the striker, on the sturdy Helene M. He listened to their tales and watched then playing with and hauling in the catch. With a harpoon deeply embedded in his flesh, we read, "the stricken morl- sten darts away, finning with racing- car acin ' g- car swiftness." Thereafter: Swimming, twisting, thrashing mad- ly, he strives frantically to tear him- self free of the biting iron spear point. He cuts along the surface of the waves; he dives --Jr the bottom of the sea; but the harpoon and the harpoon rope hold tightly and the bulky keg, floating at the other end of 300 feet of hemp, hampers and exhausts him. c i What New York Is Wearing 'BY ANNABELLE WORTHINGTON Illustrated Dressmaking Lesson Fur- nished With. Every Pattern Made of pure mater• ials in modern sunlit factories. No expense spared to have it clean, wholesome and full9avored. WRIGL is wrapped and sealed to keep Was good as when it leaves the factory. WRIGLEY'S is bound to be the best that men and machines and money can make. The delicious peppermint flavor freshens the mouth • and aids digestion. ENJOYED Bit MILLIONS $sleds Orange Pekoe has by far the finest flavour 'Fresh front the gardens' face. The captain sinks a boathook into the twisting body. With a butcher knife mounted at the end of an dar slashes at a vital spot. A cloud of bloc darkens a square of utero task of is filen vitality sapped cleaning made easier. A fluke -rope is slipped around the body, the tail fine holding it in place. The hoist turns, the rope tightens and the fish rises, shimmering, twisting, splashing. Tail first and sword last, he leaves his blue ocean home forever, to flop ignominiously on deck. , It's pp aven antime at the catch ugh for a few appraising glances before returning to the hunt. "AP good fish,' the captainoibs r three ves, summing up paragraph . words. , A fine fish in fact, three feet of sword and six feet of :ish! And "The fishermen watch h m go No a move to stop him. They know he hasn't one chance in a hundred of liv- ing more than an hour longer. Give him his last desperate frolic with the waves—when he has spent his last strength in vicious, vain surges, he will be hauled aboard with less danger to man and vessel from tossing bulk and three-foot rapier." Most of the day, however, the thrill - hunting reporter had to forego such exciting scenes, and take his adventure at second hand, in the form of stirring tales of swordfish catches of the past. :c was a day when the fish were keep- ing themselves out of sight, as, indeed, they ,have been doing to a decided ex- tent this season. But, suddenly, at about two o'clocknthe a tern we n. something happ neion read: On deck, no one knows just what is going on; all that is evident is that the schooner's course has been changed, the engine slowed, and that all three of the lookout men are peering to port. No commotion, no about of "look, over there." But Ernest Pollard has spot- ted a fish, finning leisurely and aine: lessly, 300 yards away. The next move—strongly indicative of approaching excitement --Wilfred does a "wire act," with an agility worthy of a. big top acrobat. In a twinkling he slides down the wire from the masthead to its end halfway out on the pulpit plank. A step and he is on the platform, the harpoon unbound and poised, the thrower leaning over the iron railing, awaiting the exact instant for the. $50 thrust! Tense and ready he stands. The bow slowly swings around. Now, for just a fraction of a second, the pulpit, bobbing twelve feet above the water, i, exactly over the great fish. The thrust—a short powerful stroke downward, shoving the dart sharply through the scales and into the flesh. of the fish, swimming tree feet below Youth adores a navyblue woolen dress with the fresh charms of a white crepe collar. To this captivating nodal a little white frill has been added. The kilted plaits of the •skirt have been stitched to give a trim straight l tete surface! appearance. Stitching them flat also Frantic, desperate the great fish, keeps them in place so they do not luminous blue in a frame of white as need constant pressing. : -, churns the water, twists and whirls Its so easily made and the saving and darts off. well worth it. "Got him!" the shout goes up with It's very voguish in patterned wool enthusiasm. crepe particularly in pin dots. , "He was on "he move, so,I couldn't:` Rayon novelties, jersey, wool challis hit him quite square, but I guess it'll prints, featherweight tweed and the stay in," from Wilfred, relaxing after heavier cetten fabrics are suite:I le. the tense moment All in the day's Style No. 2693 may be had in sizes work for hint, but exciting, and hard 8, 10, 12 and 14 years. ; on the nerve and muscle, all the same. Size 8 requires 21h, yards 35 -inch "What a swell shot—that was just material with 1/5 yard 27 -inch con- great," acclaimed the thrilled city trasting boys. HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS The fish is out of sight, "perhaps on Write your name and address plain- his way to the bottom of the ocean, ly, giving number and size of such but the harpoon rope is strongly tied patterns as you want. Enclose 20e in to the dart, and the clumsy keg re- stamps or coin (coin preferred; wrap stricts the swordfish's death dashes. it carefully) for each number, and The keg bobs around on the sea, and address your order to Wilson Pattern we know that the fish is down there, somewhere, but aside from that we forget him for the moment. Reacting on: The engine sounds again, the look - Mt posts are manned, andhthe Helene If cruises for nearly half inir the hour. Forom that we RALG IA If there was one swordfish vi- ciuity, why not another? But no more , Prompt relief from HEADACHES, LUMBAGO, COLDS, SORE THROAT, RHEUMATISM, to play fish. a feet of line and then feels half of it NEURITIS. NEUitALGiA. ACHES and PAINS slip back through his hands as the fish displays reluctance aplenty. Thus it goes for fifteen minutes, with the man gaining on the fish and the coiling twenty feet of rope for every ten that yet, done anything openly overt; that' he merely looks dangerous. Do you know that he and his men brand our calves?" "Yes:' "How do you know?" These Autumn Afternoons (From the World Tomorrow) I must be silent . , . here's enchanted ground, "I can't prove it, but I find calves) A. world long lost to everything but dream, on that range with the ends of their Golden and slow and hushed of 6every tongues slit an' wearin' the Triangle coned, B brand." " # Where days are less than leaves upon a stream; , massing and passing, days without a name, Whose drowsy thought is all a stilled delight That drifts into this singing hush of fame, This moment's respite on the edge of, he yields. night. I molly the sword breaks the sur- I must be silent, here . . . there is; no word So weightless and so golden but would break Vile haunted dream. in whiell nn - sound is Beard, This golden sleeping. that must never' wake Till the last leaf has faltered to the ISSUE No. 4-4—r'3() CHAPTER XV. "I have never had any experience heretofore with rustlers, Tom. Tongue-, slitting is a new one' n me. Why do. they do it?" "So the calf can no longer suckle its mother an' will have to „start rustlin' a, livin' on grass right off." "Oh, I see. That means the calf will leave its mother and, of course, once it has done that, there is no way of identifyingit as that cow's calf. To all intents and purposes it's a maver- ick, and the assumption is that the first man who finds it is free to use his iron on it." Tom Bledsoe nodded. "Bad for the round and fat, round as a beer barrel and fat as a corn -fed pig! And weigh., ing, as we guess it, close to four hun-', dred pounds! For Dry Skin—Minard's Liniment. 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