Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 33: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Law Comes to Singing River way down to the little cluster of cabins which Lang had dignified by calling a town. He entered the store, which was empty of both proprietor or customers, and passed into the little barroom. Here Bransom and Frued were taking their first morning drirtks and Kane was serving _ them. Condon had had long experience in saloons, but he was somewhat nonplused by the . keen inspection to which he was subjected here. Nevertheless he walked up to the bar and ad- dressed the man behind it. “Any work to be had around here?” he asked. “None as I knows of,’ replied Kane. Bransom nudged the man Frued, who as usual hung in the background. “What kind of work you lookin’ for?”’ sneered Bransom. “Anything,” said Condon in a half-whine; ‘anything that’ll bring in my keeps.” ‘“Wasn’t lookin’ for any work aroun’ cattle?” ““Ain’t got any choice,” was the sullen reply. “Anything that’ll bring in some grub; ’m —— hungry.” “Well, Kane here’s got grub—to sell,” Bransom with a gruff laugh. “T’m willing to buy some soon’s I can make some money,” said Condon, looking at Kane. The storekeeper, evidently puzzled but at the same time sympathetic, put out a bottle and a glass. Condon poured himself a stiff drink and swallowed it hurriedly. Some of his ebbing courage—such as he possessed—returned. He kept his fingers twined about the bottle and looked at Kane both thankfully and inquiringly. Kane. nodded and Condon took another big drink. “T thought you was a mining man,” jeered Bransom. ‘‘Broke! I never saw one yet that was worth a eo “Who told you I was a mining man?” de- manded Condon as the liquor warmed his body and threatened to warp his judgment. “Tf you ain’t got a mining-claim up in that draw what in is your idea in puttin’ a dead- line across the front of.it?”’ said “Dead-line?”? Condon was frankly bewil- dered. | “Yes, dead-line,’ shouted Bransom, en- couraged by the other’s apparent timidity and the fact that he was not armed. “You thought you was pullin’ one —— of a strong play when you busted up here an’ grabbed that draw an’ announced you wasn’t lookin’ for visitors an’ stuck out a bullet-line. Don’t think you can pull any of that stuff on me—I’m immune, I am! People round here may think it’s all right for you to protect your prospect-hole any way you want to; but I don’t recognize no dead- lines!’ There was a light step in the open doorway which led into the store, ~ Alice Thornton: 23 “Well, suppose you come up and start across it,” rang a cool voice. rs RIVE: THE men whirled to face the doorway; but Lang’s eyes, flashing with a sinister fire, ignored every one except Bransom. AD AN In the words and attitude of the dark-faced man he had sensed an enemy; and it was a time when he wanted his enemies out in the open. In a flash Condon took in the situation with a sigh of relief. Bransom had mistaken him for Lang. Lang stepped lightly into the room, his eyes still boring into Bransom’s. His right hand hung lightly at his side where the butt of his big black gun protruded from its sheath. Bransom also sensed that he had made a mis- take. “You the man from the upper draw?” he asked, scowling. “V’m the man from the upper draw,” said Lang. “You got any claim on that draw?” “No more’n you have,” returned Bransom. “What do you mean by that?” shot Lang. “Meaning that the draws is free in this country.” “Until some one take ’ em up. Am I right?” “You’ve taken that one up?” Lang turned to Kane, the storekeeper. - “Ts there any one hereabouts got any claim on that drawre” “None’s I know of,” said Kane. Lang again fixed his gaze upon Bransom, “Yes, I’ve taken that one up. Got any objections?” Bransom’s face was black with baffled tage. He had hated this man before he saw him; hated him when he had learned that he had come into the upper valley and peremptorily laid claim to a part of it under mineral rights; hated him. when he learned that he had met “Can’t say as I have since you’ve declared yourself,” he forced himself to say. “I’m glad you look at it that way,”’ remarked Lang evenly. Bransom’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Mining, I suppose,” he sneered. **That’s it—mining.” “Must have a mighty valuable claim.” “Maybe I have an’ maybe I ain’t; but I’ve filed on that claim an’ it ain’t open to in- spection.” — “Working it?” “That’s forryou to find out; but it won’t pay you to be too curious.’ : Bransom remembered the talk of the dead- ine. “Mining ——-!”” he said to himself under his breath. Lang had noticed that Condon was standing | Go 0)(0\0) (E@)