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No. 682. 


JANUARY 7th, 1933. 


Every Tuesday 

All letters to the Editor should be addressed to BOY'S CINEMA, Room 163, The Fleetway House, Farringdon Street, London, E.C.4. 

" The Fourth Horseman " 

Tom Martin, Tom Mix; Mollie 
O'Rourke, Margaret Lindsay; Gabby, 
Raymond Hatton; Softy Jones, Fred 
Kohler; Slim, .Edward Cobb; Thad, 
Richard Cramer; Tony,- Himself. 

" Strange Roads." 

Dr. Jim Harper, William Collier, 
Jim. ; Ruth, Barbara Kent; Spike, Ray- 
mo*d Hatton; Danny, Bobby (\Y1>< 
Hutch ins; Johnny Rtisso, Walter 
McGrail; Marty, Jack Quiim. 

" The Gorilla. Ship " 
Captain Larsen, Ralph Im 
Wells, Vera Reynolds; Dave Burton, 
Reed Howes; Mr. Wells, Wheel.. Oak- 
man; First Mate, George Chesebro; 
: Coy, Ben Hall. 

A Five- Year-Old Marvel. 

Hollywood has a five-year-old boy 
who, if the reports about him are all 
true, must undoubtedly be the most 
remarkable youngster in the world. 

His name is Jackie JNIerkle, son of a 
Swiss acrobat, and whose mother was 
killed while doing a circus stunt when 
.Jackie was four months old. He is 
unable to read or write, yet is said to be 
cd with wonderful psychic powers 
that enable him to answer any question 
he is asked. 
Clasping his father's hand, he was 
i recently to '.he First National 
lios during the filming of "Tiger 
rk." The first thing that interested 
him was a contrivance known as a 
"camera dolly." Boylike, he made for 
it and began turning the wheel. Richard 
Arlen came along and was told by 
Jackie's father to ask any question he 
liked. "Tell mo something about the 
watch in my pocket," replied the actor. 
"It's a Longinnes," said Jackie 
giving the name without a moment's 
hesitation, "and it was made in Switzer- 
land. Look how this wheel turns, 
daddy. Your wife's name?" he hesi- 
I at this and looked away into the 
nee. "It's Joby— no, it's Jobyna 

Edward G. Robinson strolled along to 

join the little crowd of studio folk and 

scribbled something on a piece of 

paper. "What's the name of th'e city 

I've just put down?" ho called. 

"Constantinople," chirped Jackie at 

once. Then with a twinkle in his eyes he 

d, "You wore going to put down 

Bucharest, but changed your mind didn't 

," Robinson nearly collapsed with 


In the studio restaurant. Jackie saw 
Douglas Fairbanks, .jim., and remarked 
"You're going away on the yacht 
Infanta," naming the day and hour of 
ailing. Doug burst out laughing. 
"Now you're wrong. Mr. Smarty, I 
am sailing this evening." 

Ten minutes later Robert Montgomery 
eame into the restaurant and informed 
lary 7th. 1033. 





On the track of a girl branded as an 
outlaw, he cleared her name and cor- 
nered the real culprit by courage and 
audacity. A thrilling story of Lone Star 

A punch caused a death, a broken ro- 
mance, and a murder trial — but another 
punch put things right. A stirring melo- 
drama ot the prize ring, starring Lloyd 
Hughes and Marion Shilling. 


The fourth episode of our grand serial OS 

thrills in Darkest Africa : 


Starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jnu., 

and Cecelia Parker. 

Doug. jun. that the date of sailing had 
just been changed. And changed it was 
lo the exact day and hour prophesied 
by Jackie ! 

Bit an Alligator. 

Ever heard of a man biting an. alli- 
This unusual occurrence is 
credited to Joe Bonomo, the professional 
strong man. 

Joe did not do it. however, merely to 
show oil his strength. ft was (he alli- 
gator which started this biting bn- 
dnring the filming of Decil de iMille's 
Paramount spectacle, "The Sign of the 

Herman, as the alligator is known, is 
eight feet in lengih and tough like all 
his kind. Joe Bonomo was wrestling 
with him when Herman, thinking ap- 
parently that this was one of those "all- 
in" wrestling matches where you can Jo 

I am sorry 1 am unable to tell you the 
musical range of Lawrence Tibbett's 
voice. W.W. (York). With regard to 
other information required, however, ho 
born on a farm near Bakersfield, 
California, year not stated, and is 6ft. 
in height. His father, who was a sheriff 
of Kern County. California, was killed 
by bandits v. hen Lawrence was six years 

what you like to your opponent, got hold 
of Joe's fingers and nearly bit them off. 
It was then that Joe himself did some 
biting and forced Herman to release 
his hold. It certainly must, have been 
a surprise for the alligator. 1 

A Realistic Fight. 
Harold Lloyd may not admit it but ho 
o take a licking during the fight 
scenes of his new film, "Movie Q 
His opponent v> as ' 

bt, and before the fib 

began Harold told him lo make h:s 

oak real, believing, however, 

iicmisou woidd be able to fake his 

Bui the heavyweight forgot all 

about this in the excitement of the fight 

and just let himself go. And Lloyd 

could not very well say anything l>\ way 

of a reminder because the microphone 

would at once have picked up his 

remarks ! 

Searching for a Heroine. 

It is apparently easier to plan the re- 
making of an old serial than to find s 
jtai who will be capable of performing 
the daring stunts 'required. 

This is the problem which has been 
facing Universal for the past few weeks 
with regard to the talkie version of 
"The Perils of Pauline." Pearl White 
was the star in it when it was produced 
in the old days before trick photography 
iiad reached the efficient stage it has 
now. Many daring- stunts had, th 
fore, to be actually performed, and if 
picturegoers were thrilled, the artistes 
themselves got far more excitement out 
of their work than the public suspected. 

But if more realism and less trick 
photograph? is still wanted — and if the 
scenes are good and exciting who cases 
even if they are faked? — there will 
doubtless be found another heroine will- 
ing to show as much nerve as Pearl 
While. She is to be one of the judges 
appointed to choose her successor in the 
talkie version of her serial. Meanwhile, 
applicants are being considered iioni 
among the many film-struck girls in the 

Answers to Questions. 

Only three months' issues of this 
paper are kept in stock, YV.E.G. (Man- 
chester), so if you want any back 
numbers within that period, I advise you 
to write early to the Boy's Obsbma, 
Back Numbers Dept.. Bear Alley, 
Firringdou Street, London. E.C.4. The 
price (if a single copy, including postage, 
is 3d. 

Every Tuesday BOYS' CINEMA o 

The fierce-fighting Texan hit the town to sweep it clean of its outlaw element. A story 
of a settlement in the grip of scheming bad men. 

Bandit Lair ! 

FRESH from a brutal train-robber; 
that had involved the slaying of 

two express guards, Softy JOBM 
atci liis gang of cutthroats rodo into 
tin- ghost city of Stilwell. 

. ada, had onoe been the 

of a gold-rush, hut when th. 

bad petered out the settlement had 

• I the fate of so many other hoom 

towns, being abandoned in almo 

i ipid style as it had sprung up. From 

prominent .rity. from obscurit] 

to notoriety — that was Btilwell's story, 

for H v.js now the haunt of I 

nient ioned desperadi • 

Softy Jones and nil men trooped into 

former hotel, and, looking over the 

the light of an oil-lamp, while 

owded around him, 

pang-leader opened a mail-bag that 

i the loot. 

I • r and appearance of 

I his nickname, for 
tried ruffian was as tough 
now saddle. .\'or was his brain of 
a sluggish nature, being crafty in the 
and that wan why a certain 
- in the mail hag proved of .-[ 
I . add d to a M 

O'Rourke, of Medicine Hat, Alb 

da. Now thai name was fai 

to .Softy, though be had lint I lie 

ire of the lady's acquaintance, 
and, when he ripped open the envelope, 

he i ■ i In- hi ter n ith 

faction, then turned to bia gang. 
1 1 ted, " did j on know 

that they're runnin' water into this 

valley? No. you didn't, but they are — 

din' to a Government court order." 

"The heck they are!" growled 

Softy's lieutenant a powerfully built 

individual kno I hi.-: 

we gotta find a new hide out." 

Softy shook his head and gave a 

crooked smile. 

"You're wrong, Thad," be drawled. 

" We're stayin' right here, and we're 

turnin' straigl Yeah, 

I'm gonna be in at 
th ■ beginnii 

What ru-1 of the gang 

"The TV Mhr- that will 

when th iter," 

Soft v retorted. " 5 a hal I'm 

gonna do 9 I'm gonna open up this 

hotel, put iii a dance hall, and 

a few gamblin' t I wait for 

"Maybe the sheriff will be one of 
'em," scoffed 1 had. 

''The sheriff ain'l got a thing on us. 
Softy an-. Sow listen, WL ' can 

run this town between us. The hotel 

will be .nine. You feller- can split up 

businesses amongst you — 

bles and smithy, lock, stock an' 

All you'll have to do is pay 

fty per cent of your takings, and 

save the pm for yourselves." 

II ■ one another 

dubiously . 'I ne that their 

leader n >- proposij I fantastic 

to them. 

" Now . boss," I ed, " do we 

look like ghopki Why, if any- 

wae to breeze in hen- right now 

''Id onlj take us for one thing — a 

hunch o' train-robbers waitin' for a 
train. Besides, yon can'l steal a town 
hk. tin-. Stilwell was huilr on 
propi l man called O'Rourke, 

and. though the old buzzard IS dead. 

his nexl o kin will !»• snoopin' around 

ll sign of a h" 
So; took up the letter that 

"Listen to this," be said. "It's to 

ike. way up in 
ril it's « rn ten by a firm o' 
Bolicitoi ^n 

II. proceeded to quote from tho 
epistle, whii 

'• i ) ! ' i ding 

On which the old town 

inds, I beg to advise you 

. he infoi i . I have is cor- 

rect . A 'ouri decision has 

water to Le turned into the 

January 7th, 19 

valley there, for colonisation purposes. 
"I regret to inform you, however, 
that the property is subject to sale for 
back taxes, unless these are paid by 
July first " 

"How does that affect us?" inquired 

Softy grinned. 

"The O'Rourke dame will never see 
I his letter," he observed, "an' on 
July first I'll buy the whole town of 
Stilwell for the back taxes. Listen, 
fellers, we'll bo niakin' money hand 
over fist before you know it. Why, 
suckers will bo flockin' in here like 
sheep, and twice as dumb." His voice 
rose to an enthusiastic pitch. "They'll 
be comin' in here by the wagon-loads — 
the wagon-loads, I tell yuh." 

A smart man, Softy Jones, a man 
with foresight. For, with water trans- 
forming the mighty wilderness of the 
valley into a fertile land of promise, tho 
first batches of immigrants were soon 
under way; and, on the trails that 
led from north and cast, scenes reminis- 
cent of the early gold-rush days were 
again witnessed. 

It was a march of permanent settlers 
this time, however, men and families 
proceeding westward to seek a steadier 
if less meteoric prosperity than that 
which had figured in the dreams of 
those miners who had journeyed thither 
many years before. 

The foremost column approached 
from the north, a wagon-train mustered 
in Idaho. Montana, and around :he 
Canadian border. It did not meet with 
tho one-time perils of Indian raids, but, 
nevertheless, its journey was not de- 
void of excitement, for, within a few 
hours of its destination, it was thrown 
into confusion by a stampede of half- 
wild horses across a ridge to the cast 
of the trail. 

The broncs had been rounded up by 
a certain young rancher owning pro- 
perty up on the Humboldt River. Tom 
Martin by name, he was accompanied 
by a couple of his hands, and at the 
first sign of disorder the horsemen gal- 
loped down the hillside to remedy the 

The majority of the immigrants were 
eblc to control their mule-teams, but 
there was one wagon that broke away 
from the column and wont racketing 
down the trail in a smother of dust. It 
was Tom Martin who first realised tho 
predicament of its driver, and, as he 
' saw that" she was a girl of comely 
appearance, be dashed to her rescue the 
more eagerly. 

Tom Martin was born to the open 
West, and born to the saddle, too. 
There was no finer rider in Nevada, 
and no man more deadly with a gun 
w ben he had occasion to use one, and 
that was why someone had once called 
him the Fourth Horseman of the 
Apocalypse, that legendary figure of 

The title was not so apt, for Tom 
was no fearsome spectre, but a real, 
live, honest-to-goodness horsebrccder 
with a strong sense of law and justice, 
and a keener desire to save a life than 
to take one. Such was his purpose now 
os he spurred in pursuit of the runaway 
wagon, and before the vehicle had 
travelled a couple of hundred yards he 
had overtaken it and seized the reins 
on which the girl was vainly pulling. 

It did not take Tom long to drag 
the mule-team to a standstill, and, as 
he looked at the girl on the driving- 
Mat, he doffed his sombrero with an 
a |iologctic air. 

"I'm sorry about those horses of 
mine," he told her, "and I sure hope 
von haven't had too bad a scare." , 

January 7th, 1933. 


The girl assured him that she was 
perfectly all right, and, satisfied that 
she was indeed none the worse for her 
experience, Tom prepared to turn back 
and help his men to gather the scat- 
tered herd of broncs which had been 
responsible for the trouble. 

"Reckon I'd bettor get my ponies 
rounded up again," he said, "and I'll 
give my bands a piece o' my mind at 
the same time. I was figurin' on reach- 
ing Stilwell before noon, but I guess 
we won't make it now." 

"Stilwell?" the girl exclaimed. "Why, 
that's where I'm bound for. Are you 
stopping there?" 

( "Only for a spell," Tom replied. 
"After we've rested a while, we're 
pushin' on to Carson City to marker my 
herd. I suppose you're aimiif to settle 
in Stilwell with your folks?" 

"Well, I'm travelling alone." the girl 
answered. "My name is Mollie 
O'Rourke, and my father left me all 
the land that the town of Stilwell is 
built on, so the place really belongs to 

Tom gave a wry laugh. 

"Did you ever see Stilwell, ma'am?" 
he inquired. 

"No," the girl informed him, shaking 
her head. " Have you 1" 

Yes, Tom had. Empty streets, timber 
buildings all going to decay, hung with 
cobwebs, coated with dust — a place 
forlorn as a graveyard, to his way of 

"You've sure got a treat comin' to 
you," he said. "But I guess I'll be 
secin' you there. So-long !" 

Boss of the Town. 

IT was early in the afternoon when 
Torn .Martin and his hands drove 
their herd of broncs through Stil- 
well's main street, and made for a group 
of corrals at the western end of the 

The corrals occupied a 6tte behind a 
building that had once served as the 
local stables, and the ponies had -been 
safely penned in these when a rough- 
looking customer came hurrying upon 
the scene. 

"Hey, you. what do you think you're 
doin' ?" he demanded of Tom. 

The young rancher looked at him 

" Relieve it or not," he rejoined, "I've 
just put some horses in these corrals." 

"Well, you can't leave them broncs in 
these corrals until you see Ben Jones," 
was the gruff retort. 

Tom was intrigued by this odd pro- 
hibition in a town that was supposed to 
have been deserted for many long year*. 
He inquired after "Mr. Ben Joins." 
and. on learning thai he would be found 
in the hotel, he made his way to that 

As he walked back through the main 
street, he saw that Stilwell had under 
gone slight changes. The promises on 
cither side of tho thoroughfare seemed 
to have been patched up with rough- 
and-ready carpentry, and the whole place 
bore an air that was somewhat lc.s6 un- 
inviting than formerly. 

Tom entered the hotel. II was clean- 
swept and tidy, and, though there was 
no sign of life on the ground Moor, he 
heard voices up above. 

He began to ascend a (light of stair*, 
and, as his sinus jingled to liis deliberate 
tread, the sound of voices eea6cd 
abruptly. But he had marked ihc room 
from which they had come, and. arrived 
at the door of the apartment, lie knocked 
with one gloved hand. 

"Who is it?" someone called sus- 
piciously. "What do you want?" 

Every Tuesday 

"I'm looking for Ben Jones," Tom 
answered through the door. 

He was invited to come inside, and 
as he turned the handle of the door and 
crossed the threshold he found himself 
face to face with a big, burly individual 
in a frock-coat. 

"I'm Jones," the big man said. 
" What do you want with me ?" 

It was indeed the blackguardly gang- 
loader, transformed into some semblance 
of respectability by a decent suit of 
clothes, and no longer adhering to hie 
nickname of Softy. Mr. Ben Jones, if 
you please, claiming to be a man of 
lawful substance, though his face was 
villainy personified. 

Tom had never seen Jones before, nor 
had he any acquaintance with the other 
men in the room. But in one swift 
glance he summed them up as an un- 
savoury-looking bunch, and he noticed 
that those in the background had then- 
hands ready on their gun-butts_, a strange 
attitude for honest men to assume. 

Tom made no comment, however, and 
spoke to Jones civilly enough. 

"I was told that I'd have to see you 
if I wanted to put my horses in those 
corrals back there," he mentioned. 

"That's right," Ben Jones declared 
firmly. "I own them corrals, and. if 
you're aimin' to stay in town long. I'll 
be able to put you up here at the hotel 
pretty soon— when we get things ship- 

Tom thought of Mollie O'Rourke. and 
her statement to the effect that Stilwell 
belonged to her. 

"Oh, you own this hotel, too. do 
you?" he inquired of Jones mil.)!;,. 
"Have you got any other property 
around here?" 

"Yes," was the answer, "the entire 
business section belongs to inc. Say, 
what's it to you, anyway?" the gang- 
leader added, with the hint of a threat 
in his voice. 

"Oh, nothin'," Torn drawled. "I }lst 
wanted to know who's who in Stilwell." 

The crook squared his bulky shoulders. 

"Well, 6poakin' of who's who." he 
stated, "I'm Benjamin R. Jones. They 
call me Honest Ben where I come 

"They call me Tom Martin where T 
come from," the young rahi 

Jones grinned at him. 

"Glad ro know you, Mr: Martin." he 
said. "Just help yourself to the corrals 
— and we'll settle the rent of 'em later." 

Tom departed, and when the door had 
closed behind him, Thad uttered a low 

"I didn't like that guy's looks," he 
said darkly. 

"Aw, you don't like anything," Ben 
Jones snapped. " Yon don't like this 
scheme, either, but I tell you it's a 
winner. Now listen. I'm splittin' up 
the businesses in this town among you 
fellows — all but the hotel, which I'm 
runnin' myself. You'll each get a store 
or some other kind of dump to at ten,] 
to, and T'll take my cut from your 
profits. And I don't want any squawkin' 
:il)ont. that, cither." 

He had produced a pack of cards 
while he had been speaking, and he 

prepared to deal them round. It was as 
he was shuffling them that the head of 
the immigrant wagon-column was seen 
entering the town, and he smirked as he 

glanced out of the window at the first 
arrival of settlers. 

"That's only the start of the rush, 
boys." he declared. "There'll be thou- 
sands more m the next few weeks. Now 
let's get these cards dished out. The 
fust king gets the Golden West Saloon 
at the other end o' town, huh?" 

Every Tuesday 

He flicked the cards upon a table 
around which the gangsters had col- 
lected, and the first king fell to a 
stunted rogue with three notches on his 

"The Golden West Saloon is yours, 
Jim," Jones announced. "Now the next 
ace gets the livery stable " 

One after another the crooks were 
allotted those premises in town which 
were likely to be profitable, and the last 
Berved was Thad. 

You get the general store," said Ben 
Jones. " That should be easy to run." 

And what do I get?" inquired a 

Ben Jones and his men whipped round. 
The door of the room was open, and on 
the threshold stood a girl of nineteen. 
Jones was startled, to say the least, but 
he had an eye for a pretty face, and 
with a great show of gallantry he bowed 
and gave her a leer. 

"What do you get, miss?" he said. 
* Why, the whole town, so far as I'm 

The girl smiled. "Well, that's yerv 
generous of you," she murmured, "but 
it's already mine. I'm Mollie O'Rourke. 
and I own all the land that Stillwell is 
built on." 


Jones uttered the name in a startled 
tone, and the features of his hirelings 
displayed consternation, for none of the 
rogues had bargained for the real 
i ranee on the scene. 
Bat their leader was quick to recover 
Ins composure. 

"Why, I'm pleased to know you, Miss 

.'irke," he declared. "My name 

iijamin It. Jones — Honest Ben, they 

me. You see, I— er — we expected 

the owner to come along pretty soon, 

and we thought you wouldn't object to 

all the building being rented." 

"All the buildings rented?" Mollie 

" Yes," Ben Jones assured her. "You 
■■■!•' to business men, and we see pos- 
sibilities in this town. So we were plan- 
ning to rent the various premises from 
jrou that is, if you've no objection." 

"Well, naturally I don't object to my 
property being rented " 

."Then that's fine," Jones broke in. 
"Now you leave everything in my 


hands. Miss O'Rourke, and I'll see that 
you have a steady income just as long 
as you own this town." 

Mollie shrugged. "I'm willing to give 
the thing a trial, Mr. Jones," she 
agreed unsuspectingly. 

She had hardly spoken the words when 
there was a commotion at the other end 
of the town, a boy from one of the 
immigrant families had thrown a fire- 
work under the hoofs of some stray 
horses that Tom Martin and his hands 
were bringing into Stilwell. 

For the second time that day there 
was a stampede, and, from the window 
of Ben Jones' office on the second story 
of the hotel, Mollie saw the group of 
panic-stricken broncs rushing pell-mell 
between the wagons that were drawn 
up in the main street. 

Some children belonging to a settler 
where playing in the middle of the 
roadway, and a scream broke from the 
girl's lips as she realised that they were 
right in the path of the runaway 
animals. But next moment Tom Martin 
had galloped in front of the creatures, 
and, planting himself between them and 
the party of children, he wheeled around 
and plucked out a six-gun. 

He fired into the air. and. with revol- 
ver booming and voice uplifted in a 
series of unholy yells, he strove to turn 
the brorirs aside. He risked his life in 
the process, for had they come on he 
most have been overwhelmed and 
trampled under their feet. But his only 
thought was for the terrified kiddies who 
were huddled up >" the dust behind him, 
and he stood his ground unflinchingly. 

The crashes of the forty-five and the 
young rancher's shrill-toned yawps had 
the desired effect, and the frightened 
ponies wavered, then swerved. Straight 
into the hotel they charged, and, in the 
space of sixty hectic seconds, they had 
overturned and wrecked every article 
of furniture on the ground floor. 

Ben Jones camo storming down the 
staircase as Tom and his two herdsmen 
regained control of the animals and 
coaxed them out into the street, and it 
was with an infuriated bellow that the 
gang-leader called to tie- rain her to 
come back. 

The young rancher leapt off his horse, 
a magnificent black answering to the 

name of Tony, and quietly re-entered 
the battered bar-room of the hotel. 

"Say, what the blazes aro you trytn' 
to do?" snarled Jones. "Make a livery 
stable outa my premises?" 

Tom looked at him mildly. "Well, 
if that's what you want to make of 'em, 
you've got a good start," he observed. 

He turned away, but Jones promptly 
seized him by the shoulder and swung 
him round savagely. Then, and only 
then, did the mild expression fade from 
Tom's eyes, and its place was taken by 
a steeliness that warned the gang-leader 
he was dealing with no weakling. 

"Take your hands off me!" Tom 
ground out. 

Jones let his arm fall to his side, but 
his face was still livid with rage. 

"You can't walk out on me after a 
thing like this happening?" he blazed. 
"Look at this hotel!" 

"What do you suppose I was gonna 
do?" Tom retorted. " Let the horses run 
over those children who were out 

"If you kept your horses off the street 
they wouldn't trample on people." Jones 
shouted, "and you wouldn't have to pay 
damages on my property." 

"So you still think you own this hotel, 
eh?" Tom drawled. 

The crook looked somewhat confused. 
"Well. I rent it." he blurted, "and I'm 
ible to the owner." 

" First you own it. and then you rent 
it " Tom snapped. "What's the truth? 
Make up your mind, will you?" 

Before Jones could offer any rejoinder, 
Mollie O'Rourke came hurrying down 
the stairs. 

"Oh. Mr. Martin." she said, crossing 

to where Tom stood, "it was wonderful 

— the way you saved those children. 

would have been killed for sure ! 

Did you see what happened, Mr. Jen 

The gang-leader became sheepish. 
For tho time being he was anxious to 
keep on tho right side of Mollio 

" Well— er— yes," he stammered. "I 
was just sayin' — — " 

" He was just savin' that my horses 
lone a lot of damage to your hotel, 
Mi" O'Rourke." Tom put in grimly. 

"Why, if you'd torn the whole I 
down it wouldn't have been anything 

He noticed that those In the background had their hands ready on their gun-butts. 


'th, 1933. 

compared to the lives of those children," 
.Mollie declared. "We couldn't possibly 
ask \ou to pay anything — could we, Mr. 
Jones ?" 

"I guess maybe you're right," Jones 
mumbled, swallowing his wrath with 
difficulty. "No, we couldn't ask him ter 
pay anything." 

"We?" Tom murmured, with an in- 
quiring glance at Mollie. 

"Yes, Mr. Jones is handling my prop- 
erty for me," the girl explained. 

Tom frowned. "Oh," he said, " how 
long have you known Mr. Jones?" 

"Oh, we've only just met," Moll'.o 
answered, "but Mr. Jones had all the 
buildings rented for me before I got 
here. He's the head of a business syn- 
dicate. He ami his associates all feel 
that Stilwell is going to be trcmedously 

Jones nodded smugly, and Tom looked 
at him with disfavour. He had more 
than a suspicion that Benjamin Jones 
and his "syndicate" intended to trade 
upon the artlessness of this innocent 
and unsuspecting girl. 

"Well, miss, I don't believe I'd trust 
strangers too much if I was you," the 
rancher said, while Jones glared at him 
angrily. "Especially if they do call 'em 
' Honest ' Ben." 

Without another word he strolled out 
of the saloon and climbed astride his 

The Grip of the Vice Ring. 

IN the weeks that followed, Stilwell 
became as populous as in the days 
of its gold-rush. There was soon not 
a vacant house in the place, and, into 
the bargain, a large body if immigrants 
encamped on the edge of the town, prior 
to settling plots of land and building 
homes for themselves. 

Meanwhile, Ben Jones and his 
minions waxed prosperous, and none 
had more cause to gloat than the gang- 
leader himself, for night after night the 
bar-room and dance-hall of his hotel was 
. rowded with customers. 

He had engaged a staff of cheap and 
tawdry saloon girls, and these helped 
to" entice men to the liquor counter and 
the gaming-tables, men who frittered 
away the hard-earned savings with which 
they had intended to colonise the new 
section of country. 

Wild scenes were enacted in town 
and encampment, where men ran amok 
under the influence of strong drink. 
Their womenfolk were left to grieve over 
the manner in which they were becom- 
ing demoralised— by the insidious wiles 
of Ben Jones and those in his pay. 

Mollie O'Rourke had no hand in the 
malicious activities of Jones and his 
group of associates, but, because she was 
the lawful owner of the town and re- 
ceived rent from them, she was held 
responsible by many of those women 
who lamented the follies of their men- 

From the day of her arrival in Stil- 
well, she had been in the habit of paying 
frequent visits to the immigrant camp, 
but it was not long before she noticed 
a coolness towards her. Of all those 
with whom she had formerly been on 
friendly terms, Tom Martin alone re- 
mained unchanged, and he never missed 
an opportunity of riding over Stilwell 
way to see her, for he could see that 
pretty soon she was going to have dire 
need of advice and help. 

One night he rode out with her to 
the encampment in time to witness the 
arrival of two settlers who were the 
worse for drink. They were in hilarious 
mood, and blazed about half a dozen 
rounds of live ammunition into the air, 
to the alarm of every woman and child 
in the vicinity, and for a spell the place 
was in an uproar. 

January 7th, 1933. 


When calm had been restored, Mollie 
heard complaints all around her regard- 
ing Jones and his cronies, and suddenly 
she turned to Tom with a harassed 

"Do you suppose it's true — what these 
women are saying, Tom?" she stam- 

"Of course it is," he answered. "If 
you drifted into that hotel Jones is run- 
ning, you'd realise it yourself. 1 told 
you that fellow was no good." 

Mollie swung round towards her horse. 

"I'm going into town to tell him he's 
got to get out," she announced. 

"Hadn't yon better let me do that?" 
Tom argued; but the girl shook her 

"I got myself into this, and I'm going 
to get myself out of it," she told him. 

"All right," said Tom, but made up 
his mind to follow her and sec that no 
harm came to her. 

About that same time, Benjamin R. 
Jones was seated in his office with a 
saloon girl to whom he had taken a 
fancy, and, while the sounds of revelry 
and "laughter rose to their ears from 
the saloon below, the pair of them 
toasted each other in strong liquor. 

Jones had already consumed a good 
many drinks, and he was in a confiden- 
tial mood when he leaned forward and 
tapped his companion on the shoulder. 

"Madge," he said, "I'm a big noise 
in this town, but I'm gonna be bigger 
still. They don't call me Honest Ben 
for nothing." 

The girl flashed an appraising smile 
at him. 

"Huh, you're a pretty smart hombre, 
ain't you, Ben?" she mused. 

"You bet I am," the gang-leader re- 
joined, in the fatuous 6tupidity of his 
cups, "an' you're pretty shmart gel, 
too. That's why I'm gonna do a lot 
for you, baby." 

"You wouldn't kid me, would you, 
Ben?" Madge said. 

"Kid you?" Jones echoed. "Say, 
just t' show you how much I like you, 
I'm gonna let you in on li'l secret. By 
noon to-morrow, Madge, I'll own thish 
whole town." 

The saloon girl looked at him quickly. 

"No!" she exclaimed, duly impressed. 
"How come, Ben ?" 

"Well, y'see," Ben Jones explained 
with a leer, "the young O'Rourke dame 
that owns thish property forgot t' pay 
her back taxes, an' I'm gonna pay 'cm. 
They're due at noon to-morrow, an' 1 
got a man waitin' at the court-house in 
Carson City— all ready to pay 'em in 
my name v. hen Mollie O'Rourke don't 
show up." 

The girl Madge raised her glass. 

"Here's to yon, Honest Ben," she 
said heartily. " I was right when I 
called you a smart hombre." 

There was a footstep outside at that 
moment, and bowi Ben and Madge 
looked round as the door-handle was 
turned. Then the gang-leader lurched 
to his feet as he saw Mollie cross the 

"Why, hallo, my dear!" he greeted 
familiarly. "Come in, come in. Wel- 
come to the li'l party. Say, did you see 
the business that we're doin' down in 
the saloon?" 

"I saw enough to open my eyes," 
Mollie rapped out. "I'm here to give 
you notice, Mr. Jones. I want this 
building and all the others that your 
associates are running. From now on 
I'm going to handle my own affairs." 

Ben Jones stared at her for a second 
or two, and then lie assumed a hurt 

"Why, Mollie," he protested, "that's 
no way to talk to a man who's managin' 
your properly as well as I am " 

Every Tuesday 

"You're not managing my property," 
Mollie flashed. "You're mismanaging 
it, ruining it! I've even heard talk 
among the immigrants of pulling out :o 
fresh pastures. Why, in another month 
or two there won't be a soul here bu6 
you and your gang — and these cheap 
women !" 

She looked at Madge as she spoke the 
words, and the venomous saloon girl 
flared up at once. 

"Say, who are you calling a <i 
woman?" she cried shrilly. "And who 
d'you think you are, throwin' out orders 
around this town?" 

"I'm entitled to," Mollie answered 
haughtily. "This is my property." 

The saloon girl's lip curled in an un- 
pleasant sneer. 

"It was your properly," she retorted. 
"Huh, you've got no more property 
than a jack-rabbit. When Ben Jones 
pays the hack taxes that are due at noon 
to-morrow, he'll own this town, and " 

A bellow of fury broke from the gang- 
leader as he realised that Madge's un- 
bridled tongue had betrayed his scheme, 
and with a blow of his hand he struck 
her to the floor. Then he swung upon 
Mollie, and saw that she was standing 
as if rooted to the spot. 

The look on her face told him that all 
was clear to her, and he seized her by 
the wrist when she suddenly roused 
herself and turned towards the door. 

"Let me go!" Mollie jerked. "You've 
taken advantage of me long enough! 
I'm going to get my taxes paid, and 
you're not going to stop me!" 

"No?" he snarled menacingly. "Do 
you want me to slap you down, too ?'' 

She cried out, and tried to teat- 
self free, but he caught her in a 
like grip, and was wrestling with her 
savagely when the door burst open and 
Tom Martin leapt into the room. 

Madge had struggled to her feet, and 
was leaning against a bureau for sup- 
port. A cry of warning would have 
warned Big Ben Jones of the rancher's 
attack, hut the woman of (he saloon held 
her peace, for she was rankling under 
the blow that the crook had dealt her. 

Tom grappled with the gang-leader, 
dragged him away from Mollie and 
spun him round. Then he banged his 
fist to the point of the scoundrel's jaw, 
and sent him sprawling to the floor. 

Jones scrambled to his feet with an 
oath. but. pouncing on him, Tom 
bundled him into a cupboard and locked 
him in, pocketing the key when he had 
done so. Then he turned to Mollie, 
and in a few breathless words the girl 
told him what she had learned. 

"Back taxes, eh?" Tom ground out. 
"and they've got to be paid by noon to- 
morrow. Well, don't worry, Mollie, 
if you've enough money to pay them, 
I'll ride all night, to reach Carson City 
on time. Come on, let's get out of 

They hurried from the hotel before 
the outcry that Ben Jones was raising 
could create any disorder, and out in 
the street Tom met one of his hands, 
Gabby by name. 

"(let your horse and join me at the 
settlors' camp." the young rancher 
ordered. "And tell Slim to do the 
same if he's still in town." 

Beyond the Pass. 

MADGE was in no mood to give 
Ben Jones any assistance in his 
plight, but. it was not long be- 
fore his cries reached the ears of several 
of his gangsters who wore on the 
premises, and they soon broke down tho 
cupboard door. 

Ben stumbled forth, and glowered at 
Madge as if he were tempted to strike 
at her again. But he controlled his ire 

Every Tuesday 

and rapped out sonic instructions to his 

"The O'Rourke girl's wise to what 
I'm doin "." he -narled. "Martin is 
goin' to Carson City to try an' reach 
the court-house afore noon to-morrow. 
See if you can get to Rocky Pass ahead 
of him. and stop him there!'' 

The men departed quickly, and in the 
space of a few minutes they were 
riding from the town. Straight for the 
pass they galloped, taking the road that 
led south-westward by Virginia City, 
and three hours later they were in a 
broad defile that cut through the heart 
of a mountain range. 

They concealed their horses, and 
posted themselves high up among a 
cluster of rocks. There they waited, 
trusting that they had gained a start 
on Tom Martin, and they were not 
disappointed, for shortly after they had 
settled themselves, the young rancher 
and bis companions were seen enter- 
ing the pass. 

The defile was three hundred yards 
wide, and Tom and his comrades spurred 
by at a range of about a hundred-and- 
fifty. The light was poor, but the 
gangsters pumped lead at the flying 
figures of the horsemen, and Slim was 

Tom and Gabby rode on without a 

' h. and about five minutes later a 

call was put through to Stilwell. which 

had been linked up m the Stale tele- 

phbne --.-rem only a Week previously. 

The call was for Hen Jones, arid he 

Cursed roundly as he learned that Tom 

and on.- of his men had negotiated the 

But he had other plans, and im- 

jent out tuo 'phone messages. 

One was to a ranch ten miles north- 
east of Carson City. He assured the 


owner that a couple of horse-thieves 
were headed his way, and gave a de- 
tailed description of Tom as one of 
them. The second message was to his 
own agent who was holding himself 
in readiness to pay the taxes- at the 

"That you. Manson?" he snapped, as 
the exchange put him in contact with 
his hireling. "Listen, don't let any- 
body else pay those taxes. Have the 
receipt for the property in my name 
to-morrow at noon — and no alibis. Get 
me ? " 

"Sure." the voice of Manson replied. 
"I was over at the court-house to-day, 
and tried to get 'em to take your money 
on the spot. But they won't foreclose 
on the O'Rourke property until the 
time's up." 

"Of course they won't, you sap," 
Ben Jones retorted. "And I'm tellin' 
you there's a guy headed for the court- 
house to square up for the O'Rourke 
dame. Get hold of some tough homines 
and see that he don't get into the col- 
lector's office, will you?" 

He hung up the receiver, and rubbed 
his hands wth satisfaction. 

"If Tom Martin gets through now, 
he's sure a magician.'' he said to Madge. 

"Oh, my sore jaw." the saloon girl 
moaned. "You'd no business to hit me 
that way. Ben. I didn't mean to let 
you down, but that O'Rourke girl got 
me so mad " 

"Ah. shut up," the crook growled. 
"Pour me out a stiff whisky, an' I'll 
drink to ill-health o' that rneddlin' horse 

At that particular moment Tom 
Martin was thoroughly sound in mind 
and body, and sunrise discovered him 
and his comrade Gabby riding stirrup 

to stirrup across the prairie, with the 
hoofs of their broncs beating a steady 
tattoo on the dusty trail. 

The morning wore on without in- 
cident, and Tom and Gabby had been 
lulled into a sense of security, when 
a band of horsemen suddenly dashed 
from a strip of woodland to the left 
of the road. 

They uttered a medley of shouts as 
they saw the two riders on the trail, 
and by way of a challenge they sent 
a flock of bullets whistling over their 
heads. But Tom and Gabby spurred 
on at increased speed, wondering what 
the>e men had against them, but not 
daring to stop and inquire, for they 
still had miles to travel and it ^as 
only an hour from noon. 

The posse was led by the honest 
rancher to whom Ben Jones had 'phoned. 
and the men in it firmly believed that 
they were on the track of two rogues 
guilty of horse-thieving, which the West 
regarded as amongst the lowest of 
crimes. Consequently they swung on 
to the highway and gave chase in 
determined style. 

They opened fire in earnest, too. and. 
as the fugitives were swinging into 
a tract of brush. Gabby was hit. He 
dropped from the saddle, but managed 
to crawl from the trail and conceal 
himself, in a mass of undergrowth. 

"Keep a-goin', Tom." he called out 
feebly. "You gotta be — court-house- 
noon. Keep a-goin'." 

Tom pressed forward at his bronc's 
best pace, struck off to the right, waded 
his horse through the shallows of a river 
while the pursuers were scouring the 
brush for him. and gained a considerable 
amount of ground before ;he posse 
sighted him once mjre. 

Tom grappled with the gang leader, dragged him away Irom Mollle, and spun him round. 

January 7th, 1933. 


He rode into Carson City at last, 
just as the folded hands of the court- 
house clock were moving to the hour 
of twelve. With a bound he was out of 
the saddle, and, sprinting into the 
building, he made for the tax-collector's 

He saw a group of men standing by 
that official's door. Manson was amongst 
them, and, jerking out a command as 
he clapped eyes on Tom, he reached for 
his six-gun. But before he or any of 
his accomplices could draw iron, the 
young rancher had whipped his own 
forty-five from its holster and was 
covering them. 

"Stand aside from that doorway," 
he ordered. " Or do I have to shoot 
my way through?" 

He looked in deadly earnest, and the 
crooks broke before him. In the twink- 
ling of an eye, Tom had crossed the 
Threshold, then turned and slammed 
the door in the faces of Manson and 
his cronies. 

The collector was sitting bolt up- 
right at his desk when Tom hurried 
forward to him. 

"Give me a tax receiiit for nil the 
properly in Stilwell." he panted. "Make 
it out in the name of Mollie O'Rourke. " 

The official obeyed, and at the same 
time named the amount due. A few 
seconds later Tom was snatching up the 
receipt and handing over a wad of notes. 

"Here's money enough to cover it." 
he said. "I'll collect the change some 
other time, for light now I've got some 
unfinished business in Stilwell with a 
fellow by the name of Jones." 

He did not leave by the door, but 
dived through the window and raced 
round to the front of the court-house, 
where his pony stood waiting. 

The Rousing of the Settlers. 

BEN JONES sat drinking in his office 
above the hotel bar-room, and. 
convinced that Tom Martin could 
never have succeeded in reaching the 
court-house, lie felt at peace with the 
world. He had even forgiven Madge 
for the blunder she had made, and 
grinned at her as she perched herself on 
the edge of his desk. 

Thad came into the room and glanced 
at the clock. It was exactly midnight. 

"It's just twelve hours since them 
back taxes fell due on the Stilwell pro- 
perty, Ben," he said. "Why hasn't 
Manson 'phoned through to let us know 
everything turned out all rig] 

"Why, there wasn't a chance of it 
turnin' out any other way,"' Jones re- 
torted. "I don't suppose Tom Martin 
ever got near that court-house. Now 
listen. Thad, quit worryin', will yuh? 
Manson will probably be showin' up with 
that tax receipt any minute now." 

He did not know that Manson had 
failed, and, too scared to acquaint his 
leader with the fact, had pulled up stakes 
and travelled "points west" — to be as 
far away as possible from Jones' wrath. 

"I hope you're light about Manson, 
boss," Thad muttered. "But say. have 
you heard that the immigrants are hittin' 
the trail to-night!" 

"What's that?" Ben rapped out. 
"Hittin' the trail?" 

"No foolin', boss," Thad rejoined. 
"All the womenfolk and all the men 
that ain't been drinkin' and gambliu' 
have got up on their hind legs and de- 
cided to move out." 

"Ah, what of it?" Jones growled. 
"Womenfolks and men that don't drink 
Or gamble ain't customers, anyway." 

" Not for i he saloons," Thad agreed 

"But, it'll mean a big loss to m\ (on. ral 
Store an' sich-like ' dumps. Besides, 
they're bound to persuade a good many 
o' your customers to push on with 'em. 
January 7th, 1933. 


Ben, pretty soon Stilwell is gonna be a 
ghost town again, an' we ain't had time 
to make as much money as we wanted 

Jones glowered into space for a while. 
Then he looked up at his henchman. 

"We ain't through yet, Thad," he 
announced. "There's more settlers 
a-comin', ain't there ? Well, that means 
fresh custom. There's a heap o' dough 
to be made outa this town yet, and 
we'll play it to the limit — to the limit, I 
tell yuh. For one thing " 

He stopped short, for at that moment 
the door was flung open rudely and an 
elderly man strode across the threshold. 

Ben Jones recognised him as a settler 
from the encampment, an old fellow who 
had been foolish enough to let himself 
be enticed into the saloon earlier on in 
the evening. 

"Why, Elmer Brown," the gang- 
leader greeted him, rising from his chair 
as he spoke. "I've got the name right, 
ain't I?" 

"Yes, Brown answered hoarsely, "and 
you've got my money, too." 

Ben's eyes narrowed. 

"What's the matter, friend?" he 
demanded. "Can't you lose like a sports- 

" Not when the cards are stacked 
against me like they was to-night," 
Brown cried. "Your dealer cheated me, 
Jones. I just saw him pull the same 
trick on another sap, and I want my 
money back." 

"Nobpdj cheated you," was the harsh 
rejoinder. "This place is run on the 
level. Go on, get outa here." 

Brown was quivering with rage. He 
did not know that Thad had slipped be- 
hind him and drawn a six-gun in readi- 
ness for trouble. 

"I'm not gettin' out without my 
money," the settler shouted. "Three 
hundred dollars is what I lost, Jonos. 
and you're gonna let me have the cash 
right now !" 

He slipped his hand towards his holster 
as he spoke the words, but, ere his fingers 
could touch steel, Thad shot him through 
.the back at point-blank range, and with 
a sob Brown slid lifelessly to the floor 
in a 'haze of gun smoke. 

Madge gave a scream, and stood 
staring at the settler's huddled body for 
several seconds. Then Jones ground out 
a command to his henchman. 

"Get him outa here, Thad," he 
ordered. "Take the side-door." 

The gunman obeyed him, dragged the 
body of his victim from the room, hauled 
him down a flight of narrow stairs and 
then bundled him into the street. 

The street was not empty. A youth 
nearby .saw the body rolling through the 
dust. That youth was from the immi- 
grant encampment, and a few minutes 
later he was running post-haste to the 
(1 of the town. 

The camp was •hive of industry, for 
men and women were packing equipment 
into the wagons with the avowed inten- 
tion of abandoning the valley. And it 
was in vain that Mollie O'Rourke moved 
from family to family and pleaded with 
them to remain, explaining that she 
would be able to give the Jones' gang 
their marching orders if Tom Martin re- 
turned with the tax receipt. 

They refused to listen, and she had 
given up hope of persuading them when 
the youth from town came hurrying 
upon the scene. 

"Elmer Brown's been shot!" he cried. 

He had a crowd around him in no 
time, and gasped otit, laconic answer, to 
the fierce toned questions that were put 
in him. 

" Whoever did it — got him in the back. 
Yeah, anil his gun was still in its 
holster. Musta bin one of Jones' mob. 

Every Tuesday 

About ten minutes before, Elmer was in 
the saloon, and I heard him sing cut 
that he'd been cheated. No, I wasn't 
in the 6aloon myself, but I was just out- 
side, and I couldn't help a-heaiin' him 

The news had cast a gloom over the 
camp, for, in spite of his weakness) ■ 
Elmer Brown had been well-liked. But, 
while the womenfolk talked in 
tones of his tragic end, the men mut- 
tered dark threats against Ben . Jone6 
and his crew, and they were in a venge- 
ful mood when the drumming of hoofs 
heralded the approach of a rider. 

The horseman was Tom Martin, and, 
slackening speed as he reached the camp, 
the young rancher glanced around in 
the hope of seeing Mollie. Nor did he 
have to look far, for the girl came run- 
ning forward the moment she reaped he 
had returned. 

( "I got through okay," Tom told her. 
"Here's your tax receipt.'' 

Mollie took the paper mechanically, 
but she was not thinking of legal docu- 

"Oh, Tom." she faltered. "Elmer 
Brown s been killed !" 
. "Killed?" Tom echoed. "Where did 
it happen ?" 

He guessed the answer before -be 
uttered it. 

"In Jones' place," she said. 

Tom pulled his horse round by the 
rem, and a group of settlers, who 
standing nearby, looked up at hin 

"Where you goin', Tom?" one of them 

Tom's eyes were glittering iiike 
diamonds, with the same hard aadtbril- 
liant light. 

"I'm going for a show-down with 
Honest Ben Jones," he rasped, 
fellers can sit in on it if you want to." 

A tall man named Winters raised his 
voice. He was the accepted leader of 
the settlers. 

(< "Get your guns, men." he slioi 
"WVre followin' Tom Martin .nto 
town !" 

Battle Royal ! 

BEN JONES and Thad had descended 
to the saloon and were drink 
the bar when one of their 
stumbled through the swing-doors. 

"Tom Martin and a bunch o' the 
settlers are headed this way." the new- 
comer told Ben. "It looks bad. 

Jones scowled. 

"Headed this way, huh?" he 
tered.' "All right. Hank, get i< 
livery stables and tell Morgan to 
the horses ready in case we 

Hank departed, and Ben looki 
Thad to see that his henchman 
ing in supercilious style. 

"You ain't thinkin' of runnin' out. are 
you. boss?" he demanded scornful 

" Nor unless I have t< 
answered, "and I don't, think 

-ai v. for most 6' the bo\ - I 
hand. But I ain't takin' any chc 

The gang-leader waited at tile 
looking across the crowded saloon to- 
wards the swing-doors. Thad Blip] 
through the mob of customers to 
each member of the gang to hold hill 
in readiness, and then he retraced his 
steps to where Ben was standing. 

"Martin won't have enough nerve to 
come in here," he began, bttt ere he 
could say another word there was a 
splintering crash of wood, and the back 
door of the saloon fell unhinged to the 
floor under the trampling hoofs of T 

Gun in fist, feet in the stirrups', the 
young rancher stormed into oom. 

on his prancing bronc, and the crowd 

Every Tuesday 

scattered from his path as he urged his 
mount in Ben Jones' direction. One of 
the gang-leader's hirelings attempted to 
draw, but Tom changed his mind for him 
with a bullet that creased the fellow's 

Jones started to beat a hasty retreat, 
and Tom called out to him. 

"The last time I had horseflesh in 
here," he said, "I had a notion to kick 
you out. Now I'm gonna do it." 

He sent hie pony forward with a touch 
of the spur, and, yelping like a cur, Jones 
ducked and made for the back door. He 
ran forth into the darkness of the street, 
with Tom riding in pursuit of him, and 
the bar-room was left in an uproar. 

Thad and the rest of Ben Jones' 
associates reached for their guns with 
the object of hurrying out to their 
leader's rescue. But before they could 
make a move Winters and the settlers 
.^warmed in through the swing-doors with 
levelled rifles and covered the entire 

"Hold it!*' Winters roared. "Any- 
body that ain't lookin' for trouble had 
r get out. That goes for all but 
them as have truck with Jones." 

There was a stampede, and, when the 
saloon had been cleared of non-corn- 
is. Winters' party were standing at 
one side of the bar-room, Thad and the 
at the other. 

"What's the big idea?" Thad grated 

"We want the man who killed Elmer 
Brown," Winters answered slowly. 

There was a heavy garnhling-table in 
front of the crooks, and with a sudden 
violent effort Thad overturned it and 
dropped on one knee behind it. 

'Come and get me," he snarled, and. 

f ducking out his forty-five, he pumped 
ead into the midst of the settlers. 

The rest of the gangsters followed his 
example, but the crashes of their six- 
guns synchronised with a smashing fusil- 
lade from the immigrants' rifles, and. 
with a bullet piercing his brain, Elmer 
Brown's slayer was among those who fell 
at the first volley. 

Out in the street Tom heard the racket 

of the shooting, but he did not turn 

back. He wae intent on preventing Ben 

iking his escape, and, sj 

Im- saw his man dart into the liver] 
he galloped furiously towards the 

Ife reached it as the gang-leader was 
opting to mount a horse, which his 
hirelings. Morgan and Hank, were hold- 
tor him. But Jones never gained 


the saddle, for, throwing himself from 
his own bronc, Tom dragged the 
scoundrel back and hurled him to the 

Ben Jones struggled up with an oath, 
only to find himself glaring into the 
round black bore of the young rancher's 

"Stick 'em up and keep 'em up, 
Honest Ben." Tom ground out. "I'm 
takin* you back to the settlers, and I've 
an idea they'll have a rope all ready for 

Hank and Morgan were unarmed, but 
they were tough customers, capable of 
using their fists, and the former took a 
chance by pouncing on Tom and striking 
the 6ix-gun from his grasp. 

Torn wheeled to the attack, closed with 
Hank and swept him off his feet. Then 
he spun around in time to meet the rush 
of Morgan, and his flying fist crashed 
home between the rogue's eyes with a 
force that knocked the man staggering. 

Morgan blundered into the horse that 
had been saddled for Ben Jones, and the 
animal started to plunge and rear madly. 
Up came its hindlegs in a savage back- 
kick, and an iron-shod hoof cracked the 
skull of Hank as that worthy was stoop- 
ing for Tom's gun. 

Hank dropped without a sound, the 
pony that had kicked him went cavorting 
into the street; and the gangway be- 
tween the horse-stalls was left clear for 
the fierce tussle that ensued as Jones 
and Morgan leapt at Tom. 

Jones was drawing his six-shooter as 
he came forward, but Tom hammered 
him down with a slashing right. Quick 
to slip in with a telling blow, Morgan 
promptly struck out at the rancher 
before he could bring up his guard 

Tom went to the floor, and Morgan 
hurled himself upon him. planting his 
knees on tJie younger man's arm- ami 
heating at his defenceless face. 

'Iom heaved upward and shot the 
gangster off his cheat But, agile a- a 
eat. Morgan - rambled up and whipped 
round as the rancher was struggling to 
his f{ 

Morgan iprang at Tom from behind, 
but the youngster secured a grip of his 

Wrists, stooped swiftly and pitched him 
clean over his head to land in a ba 

of eggs. 

With yolk and shells clinging to the 
seat of his breeches the crook rose to 
give battle once more, and he closed with 
Tom in an attempt to fling him down. 
The two men wont reeling along the 


gangway, and, near the far end of it, 
cannoned violently against a column of 
hay-bales, which stood piled one upon the 

The column tottered shakily, but did 
not fall, and the combatants lurched 
away from it. Then Tom broke Mor- 
gan's hold, and, smothering a punch that 
the man aimed at him, he let drive with 
his right for the gangster's ribs. 

The blow landed fair and true, and 
with a gasp Morgan stumbled back 
against the pile of bales. Once more they 
tottered, and this time the top one fell, 
tumbling from a height on to Morgan's 

The man collapsed under it. and Tom 
turned to seek Ben Jones. He saw the 
gang leader near the entrance of the 
livery stable, preparing to rise. 

Tom made for him at the double, and 
was still several paces from him when 
the scoundrel tugged out his revolver. 

He tried to cover the rancher, but, 
springing forward, Tom 6ent the gun fly- 
ing with a mighty kick, and then, as he 
brought his foot down again, he swung 
his bunched knuckles to the point of the 
man's jaw. 

Honest Ben Jones was out for the 
count before his head hit one of the 
timber pillars of the livery stable, but 
the impact guaranteed oblivion for a con- 
siderable spell, and he was still slack 
in body and vacant in mind when Tom 
caught hold of him by the collar and 
ged him along Mam Street. 

The sound of gunplay still echoed 
through the town, and blood still flowed 
in the bar-room of Ben Jones' saloon as 
leaden death struck men down. But the 
firing was le.^s heavy, and by the time 
that Tom had hauled his captive to the 
swing-doors it had died out completely, 
for not one of the gangsters there re- 
mained alive. 

• • • i 

Peace had come to Stilwell. and a 
prosperity that was not of the saloons 
and the gambling halls, and if was a 

thriving community that Tom Martin 
left behind him on the day that he drove 
out of town with Mollie O'Rourke as his 

iwds lined Main Street- to watch 
them go. and shower ii|k>ii shower of rice 
and confetti -mothered their buck-board 
as they took the honeymoon trail that 
led to Tom'.s ranch up on the Humboldt 
Ril er. 

(By permission of Universal Pictures. 

Ltd., starring Tom Mix and Margaret 


Stand aside from that doorway ! " Tom ordered. 

" Or do I have to shoot my way through ? " 

January 7th. 1933. 



Every Tuesday 

To smash a gang of murderous crooks, a young doctor has to make a great sacrifice. 

A gripping crime story. 

At the Golden Slipper. 
- TIM, if it had been anyone else 
driving that car I «hould have 

** been seared to death." The girl 
smiled fondly at the dark-haired, bright- 
eyed, happy young man. "You must 
e been doing seventy!'' 

"I've got several loves." laughed the 
yOuhg man. " My profession as a doctor, 
anything to do with motors and engines, 
young Danny, and last, but the most 
important, a girl by the name of Ruth 

"Jim Harper, you're a tease!" Ruth 
slid a hand across the fable, and it was 
at once secured by the young doctor. 
" I can't think why I'm so fond of you." 

Only tliat day Jiin Harper, the young 
ambulance doctor, had become engaged 
to Ruth Murdock, one of the nurses 
attached to the small relief hospital. 
Accidents, illnesses, and diseases had 
ed Borderton, on the outskirts of a 
big city, to apply for a relief hospital, 
where minor complaints could be treated 
and ambulances could rush off bad cases 
to the main hospitals. Jim, by his 
promising work, had been appointed to 
tako charge ; he hail an elderly woman 
and Rutli as his nursing staff, and a. fat, 
cheery little man, known lo all as Jake, 
as driver of the one ambulance. 

On occasions Jim drove the ambulance 
himself, and then Jake's hair would 
stand on end. The young doctor was a 
miracle at the wheel. He was extremely 
popular and very hard-working, He 
would stay up all night with a patient 
if it were necessary. A lot of men, 
'women, and children came to him to be 

Jai.uary 7th, 1933. 

treated for small com- 
plaints, and especially 
popular was he among the children. 

Patrolman Eddie Dillon had known 
Jim for years, and his district lay close 
to that of the young doctor. The patrol- 
man had one small 6on, Danny, aged 
seven, and the youngster thought the 
two greatest men in the world were his 
daddy and Dr. Jim. If Danny had a 
bruise, a thorn in his finger, or a cut, 
he would insist that his father take him 
to Dr. Jim and no other doctor. 

Fate must have been behind the 
decision of Dr. Jim Harper to take his 
sweetheart to the Golden Slipper Supper 
Club for the celebration of their engage- 
ment. An excellent cabaret was pro- 

''I should think 4 the owner of this 
place makes a lot of money." Ruth mur- 
mured as 6he toyed with an ice. 
"There's hardly a vacant table." 

"A chap called Johnny Kusso owns 
this dive." Jim laughed a little harshly. 
"But this isn't the only way he makes 
his money." 

"He's not a bootlegger, is he, Jim?" 

"I don't know anything against him, 
though Pop Dillon doesn't seem to like 
him very much." Jim smiled fondly at 
his pretty, dark-haired fiancee. "Let's 
have a dance, darling? It's the best 
band for miles, and there's nothing 
wrong with the food, so what do w< 

Jim was known wherever lie went. 
Not often did he patronise the Golden 
Slipper, yet his skill and capable hand- 
ling of the relief station had spread. 
The manager, a fat Italian by the name 
of Rossani, fu«6ed round when they 


returned from the dance. Was every- 
thing to their satisfaction ? 

"Absolutely!" Jim winked. "We've 
had a great time." 

"I am so glad, Dr. Jim." The Italian 
rubbed his hands together. "I hope 
you and the very charming young lady 
come here very often." 

"He could cut your throat and still 
smile," whispered Jim after the manager 
had gone. "Otherwise he's a fine 

In the joy of being together they 
forgot all about, the manager, and it 
was getting on for midnight when 
manager once more hovered round their 

"Dr. Jim, someone is hurt,'" the man- 
ager explained. " A mere nothing, but 
it should be attended io. and it is silly 
to worry a hospital at this time of night. 
The Golden Slipper would be 
grateful if you could help—it will but 
take a few minutes. I feel sun 
charming young lady will excuse you 
for that little while." 

"Worst of being a doctor you can 
never get away from your job." sighed 
Jim. "All right, I'll come. You'll 
excuse me, dear ?" 

"Don't be too long," was her answer. 

"This way, Dr. Jim." The manager 
took his arm. "You need not bother 
about instruments and bandages. — we 
have them all." 

The time was a quarter to twelve. 

A Callous Shooting. 

AT the end of the ball-room behind 
the band were several rooms. 
They could be entered from a 
private door that led up from the si 
or from a door behind the bandstand. 
These doors were very strong, and each 
one contained a small grille, which could 
be slid back so that those inside could 
see who was outside. 

Johnny Russo took plenty of pre- 

Every Tuesday 

The main room was luxuriously fur- 
nished. There was a huge desk with 
several telephones. A portable trolley 
was open to reveal an array of bottles 
and glasses. Thick rugs covered the 

Lounging in a swivel chair was a tall, 
middle-aged man. His face was lined, 
and the alert, expressive eyes were sunk 
.. deep under the bushy eyebrows. He 
was smoking a large cigar and sipping 
at his whisky-and-soda. Now and again 
he would smile — business had been good 
lately. His suit was of a loud and 
vulgar check. 

Seated in an armchair was a small, 
clean-shaven man in a blue suit, an 
outrageous bow-tie, and a grey bowler 
hat. It made little difference whether 
he was inside or out — that bowler re- 
mained on his head at an aggressive 
J' was a quarter-past eleven. 
"'Bout time Marty was back," mut- 
tered bowler hat. 

"You're right, Spike," Russo yawned. 
'' B Marty can look after himself." 

" V'eah, but the cops are gettin' 
mighty difficult these days." Spike 
spoke gloomily. "They've boon movin' 
up at headquarters, an' a lot o' now men 
are on this district. Graft don't cut 
much ice." 

" We're making plenty." Russo was 
boastful "There aren't many cops who 
i t their price." 
Both men started as there came a 
quick rapping at the door that com 
with the street. Instinctively thoir 
hands went to their hip-, 
ho it is, Spiko." 
Spiko slid back the grille, took one 
look, and at once swung open the door. 
A thin, vicious-faced fellow with a slight 
"-rr,f>i> Hung himself into the room. 

rut that door!" he rasped. 
"Q lick I" 

"Hallo, Marty, what's the excite- 
ir ..-nt '.'" drawled Rn 

I'm in a jam, boss," cried Marty. 
"There's a flat-foot on my trail. He's 
close behind mo. I tried to dodge, 
changed cars and did every darned 
thing, but always that cursed motor- 
i\.i- behind me. I got desperate in 
end and triod to work round this 
way. thought I'd thrown him off the 

but just as I got. out of thi 
I looked back— in the distance I spied posky cop." 
What', happened?" snarl.. I l: 
" Wo carried out that raid." Marty 
traj panting. "But some f>xjl pedestrian 
red our plana. Wo smashed the 
windows and made a grab at the 
and jewels in the window. The Weasel, 
I . ton and myself did the robbin' whilst 
young Bonny had the oar at the kerb. 
All set for a get-away, anil this fool 
trian knocks tin- Weasel flat with 

■ ' punch, and " 

You had way out," 

i ■ Go on. " 

I <lro|ipi..| the meddler, and I don't 
■ n hell cause anj more trouble." 

UM ■ t W l-ti'd o\ ill;. . " Wo got 

to the oar ju't SJ wo hoard a police 

uron, and " 

A harsh rapping at the door. 
I hut's the cop," lu ed Marty. "You 
i get me outa here, Ru 
"!,<•» hirn wait," I' ed. "What 

lencd to thr- boj 

" Benny lost control when a bullet 

clipped the back tyro," Marty shud- 

I "The car crashed straight into 

i'k wall. I was flung out but not 

hurt. 'I I caught a second 

• I La* ton was cul by the 

n't doad they were mighty 

Bsnny was not hurt much 

He fidgeted as that rapping was re- 


peated. " We scaled a wall, and then 
we split up, but this cursed speed-cop 
got on my trail, and I couldn't shake 
him off." The knocking had become 
dull crashes. "What yer gonna do, 

"Into this room." Russo went over 
to a door. "Lie low in my bed-room 
whilst I settle this flat foot. When 
the door had closed behind the gunman 
the leader nodded to Spike. "Okay, 
you can let him itu" 

Patrolman Eddie Dillon walked into 
the room. 

"Hallo, Eddie?" Russo grinned. 
"This is a surprise!" 

"You took a long time to open up." 
The big Irishman was not smiling. 
"Where is he?" 

"I don't get you, Eddie," Russo 
looked surprised. "Not looking for me 
or Spike, are you?" 

"His name might be Marty," drawled 
Dillon. "And I know he came into the 
Golden Slipper. You have this dive 
pretty well lit up at nights, and I saw 
which way he went. He's been in this 
room. Where has he gone?" 

"Eddie, you are making a big mis- 
take" Russo threw away his half- 
finished cigar. "Sit down and have a 
drink. Let's talk this over like friends. 
No one's come in here." From his 
pocket he took a note-case. "I've got 
a lot of money." 

"But not enough to buy me." Eddie 
shook his head. "A pedestrian was shot 
in a smash-and-grab raid at a jewel 
store. Your boys didn't get away with 
anything because your car was wrecked, 
but we only found two of the gang, so 
we were pretty sure two had made a 
break, I found a trail over a wall, and 
I know that one of those two men is 


Marty. Now are you going to open 

"You've got us all wrong," blustered 
Russo. "You ain't got a thing on 
Marty, and what's more he ain't here." 

"I'll have a look round for myself." 
The patrolman walked slowly round the 
room, whilst Russo and Spike watched 
him narrowly. He paused at the bed- 
room door and gave the two crooks a 
quick glance. Their tense expressions 
must have revealed the truth. 

Russo shrugged his shoulders and 
picked up a cigar-box. Spike saw the 
action, and his breath whistled from 
his throat. 

Patrol man Dillon tried the door, it 
was locked. 

"Open that door in the name of the 
law!" he called out. "Open up or I'll 
blow the lock off!" 

"You made a fuss over nothing!" 
cried Russo. "Why don't you sit down 
and talk this over? Have a nice 

"Cut the talk, Russo!" rasped Dillon, 
and shook the door-handle. "Open up, 
Marty, or it'll be the worse for you." 

Russo opened his cigar-box, but it 
was not a cigar but a gun that he took 

Crack, crack, crack! 

Patrolman Dillon stiffened, and he 
lurched against the door. His whole 
body writhed in agony, then slowly he 
slid down the door to the floor. 

"And that's that!" screamed Rus=o. 
"You not lake my money now you get 
my lead. Ha, ha! You fool flat foot. 

Russo had put the gun on the table 
after the shooting, but now he seemed 
paralysed and his eyes stared with 
growing terror. The policeman was not 

II Danny had a thorn in his finger ne would insist that his father 
take him to Doctor Jim. 

January 7th, 19J3. 


dead. The huddled heap was making a 
last great effort. A shaking hand was. 
trying to lift the revolver. It was 
wavering. Dillon made a last despair- 
ing effort and pressed the trigger. 

Crack! Johnny Russo's face twitched, 
and as Dillon sagged into merciful ob- 
livion the crook clutched at his arm. 

"Are you hurt bad, boss?" cried 

'"No!" gritted Russo through clenched 
teeth. "Get Rossani here. You and 
Marty had best get the car and dump 
this Hat foot in some alley-way up town. 
Don't forget his machine." 

A few minutes later Rossani appeared. 

"I've got a nasty wound in the arm." 
The crook leader was white. "I'm 
losing blood fait. I want a doctor — 
get me one." 

The Wounded Gangster. 

JIM HARPER was taken round the 
ball-room to the door at the back 
of the band. A smile twitched his 
lips as he noted the discreet knocking 
and the opening of the grille. He had 
a very good idea of Johnny Russo's 

Russo was lying back in a chair, and 
his face was twitching with pain. 

"Hurt my arm — will you fix it, doc?" 
Russo asked. 

•"Do my best, but I haven't my bag 
with me," Jim answered, and then 
nodded approval as Spike pointed to an 
open bag on a chair near the patient. 
"Well, I see you're prepared for emer- 

Swiftly and dexterously Jim cut away 
the sleeve, which was sodden with blood, 
and gently rolled back the silk shirt — 
to expose a nasty wound in the right 
arm. It was in the muscular part. 

"Hum, bullet still there!" muttered 
Jim. "You ought really to have a whiff 
of gas." 

"Take it out now if you think I won't 
bleed too much!" mumbled Russo. 
"Give me a glass of champagne before 
you start and I won't squeal." 

"Have it your own way." Jim went 
through the instruments till he found 
those he required. "I want hot water, 
bandages and lint." 

Russo moaned once or twice, but 
ol herwise the crook stood the operation 
well. At last Jim smiled, and in his 
forceps held up a black object — the 

Expertly, Jim fixed a dressing, and 
then -trapped on the bandages. That 
dose he took Russo's pulse and tested 
his heart. 

"That won't bleed much more," he 
said in his most professional manner. 
" But the wound should be dressed once 
ii not twice a day. If that place went 
septic it would be a bad business." He 
washed his hands and looked fixedly at 
the eroork. "I have to make a report 
of all these cases. How did you come 
tat wound ?" 

"That fool Spike did it," Russo 
led. "Oh, no, he didn't put me on 
the spot or he wouldn't be alivo now. 
A new typo of gun with a patent 
it, and he couldn't make it work. 
Ib> thought the safety catch was up 
when it wasn't — hence the Pyramids." 

Jim was certain this was a lie, but 
■ ould be wisest to accept the talc. 

"How about getting the wound 
>l ?" 

" Sit down, Jim, sit down," said 
Russo. "Boj be doc a chair. 

Jim, you handled my arm better than 
l'\e 6vi r seen a man handle a wound 
before. I've seen a few wounds, and 
I know that the bullet in the muscle 
was a hard task, 

cious and naturally stiffening my 
muscles. Easy unconscious but not this 

January 7th, 1933. 


way. What's more, I expected to be 
hurt bad, but you worked miracles." 
He beckoned Rossani. "Get up some of 
your best wine — I wish to drink his 

"Thanks, but- I've got my girl down- 
stairs," pleaded Jim. "She'll be get- 
ting anxious." 

" You wait a bit and you'll hear 
something good," Russo 6miled. "If 
you got a girl you want to get married 
some time. You work at that relief 
station, and I know what kinda pay 
you get." He pulled open a drawer 
and took out a wallet. He tossed a 
bundle of notes to Jim. "That's for 
doing this. A bit more than you get 
in a month. Jim, I could use a man 
like you. In my business people get 
hurt now and again, and some guy has 
gotta watch this arm of mine. I don't 
want to go to a hospital nor do my 
friends. If you quit that job and come 
in with me as the doctor you're on 
real money." 

"And it only means doctoring?" spoke 
Jim. "I haven't got anything else to 

" Not a thing except keep your mouth 
shut," laughed Russo. "See that wad, 
I'll give you the same every month and 
extra for special cases. What do you 
say '!" 

Jim Harper had had several dealings 
with the police. His reports on the 
accidents and cases that came to his 
relief hospital, had been of great assist- 
ance to them, moreover he had had an 
insight into facts that the public did 
not know through his friendship with 
patrolman Eddie Dillon. Through the 
latter he knew a great deal about Russo, 
his gang and his methods, so that this 
offer of money did not greatly surprise 
him. Being sharp-witted he put the 
question to himself — what was the best 
thing to do? 

If he said "No" Russo might make it 
very uncomfortable because the gang 
leader might not like the news of this 
shooting to spread, also he was a man 
who hated to be thwarted. Jim knew 
that the police had been trying for 
months to get Russo, who had several 
killings to account for. It would be 
best to accept the money. 

Jim picked up the wad of notes and 
ran his fingers over them. 

"Five hundred bucks!" he com- 
mented. " You don't underpay your 
men, Russo?" 

"No. and what's more I stand by 
them," boasted the man. With his free 
hand he indicated the bandages. "May- 
be that is how I came this way. You 
know- rather more than I like, Jim, 
and f would rather you be with me 
than against me. I make a good friend 
but a bad enemy. What is your pro- 

"Five hundred for doing nothing 
sounds good to me," Jim smiled. "I'm 
a business man, Russo. I'll try it for a 
spell, but you must remember that I 
like my trade, and I'd hate to sit 
around doing nothing." 

"You'll have plenty on your hands, 
doc," Russo held out a hand. "I see 
you're going to come with us." 

Jim pocketed the money. "When 
do I start? I can't stay now because 
my girl will be getting suspicious." 

You como and see me in the morn- 
ing." Russo almost purred he was so 
pleased. "Wo talk it over then. I make 
you very rich." 

Jim went back to the ballroom. 

"What a time you've been. It must 
have been a bad case." Ruth was 
inquisitive. "What happened, Jim?" 

"Nothing very much," Jim patted 
her hand. "Let's dance." 

"All right," Ruth was about to stand 
up, when she gave a faint cry and 

Every Tuesday 

pointed to her hand. Jim's sleeve had 
brushed against it. "Look at my fingers, 
Jim. Oh, Jim, it's blood." 

Her alert eyes went to his coat. 

"I'm sorry, darling" murmured Jim. 
"the fellow bled rather a lot." 

"Jim let's go," Ruth shivered. "All 
the kick seems to have gone out of this 
place. It will be much better out in the 
fresh air." 

"Guess you're right, kid," he agreed, 

A Hard Duty. 

EARLY next morning, Jim Harper 
paid a visit to police headquarters. 
He was taken before the com- 

"I'm glad doctor you got in touch 
with me." The commissioner was a 
shrewd but kindly man. "Though one 
does not encourage the police to talk, 
I am glad that Dillon made a confeder- 
ate in you, and told you how set I 
was to rope in this Russo gang." 

"I tried to get Eddie on the 'phone 
but he hasn't shown up yet," explained 
Jim. "Apparently there was trouble 
last night." 

"There's trouble most nights with 
that gang," admitted the commissioner. 
"I'm glad you did not waste time and 
came to me. Now tell me all that 
happened last night at Golden Slipper." 

Jim told his tale. . "I was confronted 
with two choices," he concluded "Going 
in with Russo, or if I refused, maybo 
never coming out alive. I took the 
money and here it is. Russo may get, 
riled if I don't show up, but I'll steer 
clear of his mob." 

The commissioner was silent for a 
few minutes. At last he cleared his 
throat. "Jim it's in your power to 
render the State a great service. I 
know a lot about my men and from 
Dillon I've heard about you. You've 
got pluck. For months I've thought 
and schemed of how to get proof against m 
Russo that will send him to the chair. 
I want you to take this money and work 
for Russo. Wait, and let me explain. 
You have the chance I've wanted — the 
chance of getting inside information. 
With your help I can break this gang. 
Slowly I will get man after man away 
from him, forcing him out into the 
open, and to eventual downfall — if you'll 
help me." 

"I couldn't do that, chief." Jim was 
horrified at the idea. "Work for that 
murdering skunk. What would my 
friends say?" 

"Duty is often very hard." The 
commissioner shook his head. One has 
to fight these gangsters by such methods, 
and anyone who will risk their lives in 
an endeavour to exterminate them is 
almost more than a hero. Moreover, 
Jim, he may succeed or he may fail, and 
in both cases the world may never 
know of this bravery. I'm asking a 
great. sacrifice but you are the one person 
who can smash this gang. Jim, in the 
last month twelve grown-ups and two 
children have been killed and injured 
by this gang. Nothing less than murder, 
and I am almost powerless to stop it, 
because Russo has so much money — he 
can buy his evidence." 

The telephone rang. 

"Excuse, me," he murmured and took 
off the receiver. "Hullo!" 

Jim stared towards the window. What 
the chief asked was too great a sacrifice. 
Besides there was Ruth to think about 
and their happiness. A startled ex- 
clamation from the commissioner made 
him glance down. 

"What's that you'ro saying. Patrol- 
man Eddio Dillon found shot in River 
Alley. Thrco bullet wounds ! Shot in 
the side. You think he was shot almost 
from behind. The machine not touched. 
All right, report direct to mc. I want to 

Every Tuesday 

see you and the doctor directly you 

"Dillon murdered '." Jim's face was 
dead white. "Is that the truth, chief? 
The gang murdered him." 

"Yes, and I'll tell you something 
else.'' The commissioner's face was 
hard and stern. "Something that may 
make you reconsider. I've had reports 
of an affray, in which some of Russo's 
gang tried a smash-and-grab raid. They 
were balked and the police gave chase. 
The crooks' car was wrecked and two 
killed, the other two got away and we 
have no proof but we think one of those 
men was Marty. Russo would be 
finished without Marty. This report 
states plainly that patrolman Eddie 
Dillon got on to Marty's trail and was 
-een at Green Hatch." He smiled 
grimly. "You know that Green Hatch 
is scarce a mile from the Golden Slipper, 
and yet Eddie's dead body is found six 
miles away, and the machine not dam- 
aged. The last point should show you 
If Eddie had been shot 
whilst riding, his body and machine 
would have been smashed up. They 
weren't and I deduce from that fact that 
Dillon caught up with his man and " 

"Chief, I see what you mean," filter- 
ed Jim. "Dillon may have trailed 
Marty to the Golden Slipper. I had 
to tend Russo's arm and ho told mo 
that he got the wound doing something 
for one of his men. Moreover I noticed 
Mains on the floor near one of the 
doors. Perhaps Eddie was killed only 
a few minutes before I came into that 

More than likely." 

"Chief, you can count on me." cried 
Jim. "Eddie was a great fellow. I'll 
Dge him for his boy's sake. Tell 
cactly what you want me to do? 

"Jim. before you start I must tell you 
this," The commissioner stared at the 
white-faced youngster. "This is a big 
ta-k you're undertaking. Though you 
are working for the police we can 
give you little help. It is like the 
■ Service. If you arc caught by 
the enemy there is little can be done 
for you. You cannot tell what you know, 
and you cannot expect help from those 
The prees and those that arc 
above me would not countenance this 

though they might admit it I 

the only way, yet tln\\ could not support 

it. What you do. you do on your own. 

,'h I shall endeavour to proti 

ble, but if you get into a had jam 

the consequent I warn you 

• all this so thai you can face fa<ts. 

I i -me other point no < , must 

1 in j i ir confidence. You must tell 
no one — not even the girl to whom 
ngaged. Not a chance mi 

taken of the truth leaking out. You will 

by your friend.-,— you 

if \ou smash this 

- J vow thai your name B haU be 

I. A poor rew ard, Jim." 

Jim squared his shoulders, 
me the dope 

IDanny Wants Dr. Jim. 

Ol difficult months of 
Jim'- life had pa 

had Jim imagined the im- 
il the task thai he had i 

to be con 

i his 

that foi at ! 1, he 

the docto 

proud of his find, and the 

h,d re 




But the greatest hardship of all was 
public opinion. It soon went the rounds 
that Doctor Jim had given up the 
relief station to work lor a notorious 
band of crooks. Jim, knowing he was 
rendering the State a service, couhi 
endure their contemptuous glances, but 
the scorn of Ruth was a very different 

Time after time she asked him why he 
was working for Russo, and all he would 
say was that he had his reasons. He 
begged her to trust him. Perhaps Ruth 
might have trusted Jim, but her friends 
were continually talking about the way 
her sweetheart had changed, and they 
did not hesitate to state the reason — 
money. A fortnight after the change 
there was a bad quarrel, and Ruth gave 
Jim back his ring. 

"In the next room is Danny, who 
adoies you and looks upon you as his 
father now he has no parent, and yet 
you have the nerve to work for a bunch 
of thugs, who are responsible for most 
of the crime round here and probably 
for the death of his father. You won't 
why, and there can only be one 
reason — you've fallen for their easy 
money. Well, I'm not marrying a 

"But, Ruth, there is a re " 

Jim got as far as that, and then broke 
off. He must not break his promise to 
the commissioner. 

Little Danny heard stories against his 

hero, but he would not believe any of 

them, and several times came home to 

Ruth, who had adopted him, with a 


Directly Jim was certain that Russo 
Marty had eased up on their watch 

over him he managed to get in touch 
with the commissioner, and, as a result, 
things began to go wrong with Russo 
his gangsters. A big mail-van 
robbeiy was circumvented by the un- 


expected appearance of a police patrol, 
and one gangster was killed and another 
wounded. A convoy of beer was 
stopped, and two more gangsters fell 
into the hands of the police. But Russo 
and his gang had no suspicion as yet 
of Dr. Jim Harper. Every gangster 
that was wounded was a certain victim. 
Jim would patch them up and out they 
would go, to somehow walk into the 
hands of the cops. 

Thus a month passed, and Jim was 
not looking well or happy. His 
estrangement with Ruth was getting him 
down. The gang leader knew that Ruth 
had thrown over the doctor, and, if 
anything, that buoyed up his confidence 
in his protege. He presented the 
youngster with a marvellous and power- 
ful two-seater car — it would be painted 

At last Jim became desperate. Ruth 
meant everything in the world to him, 
and he could not go on with the game. 
The danger to himself he did not fear, 
but it was the thought of losing Ruth 
that mattered. He went to see the 

It chanced that the police had that 
morning picked up Spike. Jim had 
given information and description, but 
he did not know that the small, weasel- 
faced crook was in the anteroom wait- 
ing to be cross-examined by the 
missioner when he paid his visit. Jim 
was shown to the commissioner's room 
private entrance, and he was 
admitted just a few seconds before a 
patrol brought in Spike. 

"M\ boy, you must carry on." 1 

the commissioner. "Already the pc 

of Russo ig waning, and it is only a 

mattei of time before we get the leader. 
You've done marvels, and, frankly, 
without your collaboration, we should 
have been powerless, If you fail us now 

Russo and his murderers will again get 

" What makes you think you've got a squeal*! in the gang ? " 
calmly ask'd Jim. i 

Jam iry Ttli. 1 333. 


the upper hand, and the city becomes a 
place of bloodshed and crime." 

" But you can't realise what you're 
asking!" cried Jim. "My girl's given 
me the cold shoulder. There are lots of 
chaps crazy about Ruth, and I have 
heard that she's been out with one man 
quite a lot. I'll lose her unless this 
racket stops soon, and, as far as I can 
see, it might go on for months." 

"I have an inkling that matters will 
soon come to head," the chief cried. 
•■ Duty is very hard at times, and our 
happiness must be sacrificed for the sake 
of others. Look at it this way. Sup- 
posing you do lose Ruth; you suffer, 
but you will have freed this district from 
a menace and a scourge, you may have 
saved dozens of lives and prevented 
people from being injured and ruined. 
It's your happiness against the happi- 
ness of hundreds. I know your girl by 
sight, Jim, and I can understand her 
throwing you over, but if she loves you 
at all, I am sure it will be months 
before she will think of another man, if 
she ever does. Try it for one more 
month, Jim, and if there should be 
another man, or you get so worried, 1 
might consider making her a con- 
federate. But at the moment that is 
impossible. The joy on her face might 
give Russo a suspicion, and then the 

whole game -" A rap came at his 

door. " Come in!" 

An officer entered, leaving the door 
slightly ajar. Spike's eyes bulged from 
his head as he saw the man sitting at 
the commissioner's desk. He pulled his 
howler-hat over his eyes and turned up 
his collar. Jim, deep in thought, never 
1 1 round. 

"All right, Jackson, I'll attend to 
these reports later." 

The commissioner dismissed the 
ullicer. He did not see the open door. 

you're right, chief, I've got to go 
through with it," cried Jim, when the 
door had closed. "I see the way my 
duty lies. I hope, chief you'll do some- 
thing about it in a month, or else I'll go 
crazy !" 

-Well spoken, lad!" The Com- 
missioner held out his hand. "Maybe 
we'll finish this business off quicker than 
you think." 

in his powerful car Jim drove back 
to the Golden Slipper, and he entered 
Russo's room to overhear Marty on the 
'phone. Johnny Russo lounged in a 

"No. the doc ain't here," Marly was 
saying. "I can't help that. You better 
find another doctor. He's too busy to 
l.e worried with kids. No, I shan't tell 
him. Who do you think " 

"Who's that on the 'phone?" rapped 
out Jim. 

KuSSO raised his eyes at the sharp 
tone. Pity the kid had come back now. 
lie could never quite trust a man when 

there was a dame concerned. 

Marty, would have hung up, but a 
steel-like fist gripped his arm. 

"Who's on the 'phone?" he repeated. 
" 1 want to know." 

"A dame by the name of Murdock!" 
snarled Marty. '•'Some kid's ill, and she 

"Give me the 'phone!" Jim snatched 
tlie receiver away. "Hallo, hallo! 
I lootor Jim speaking." 

(ih, Jim, Jim, Danny's ill!" 
quavered the voiee of the one he loved, 
"lie won't have anyone but you, and 
got a temperature." 

" Keep him quiet. Tell Danny I'll be 
right along," cried Jim. "All right ; 
Ruth, I'll come along at once." 

" !', an't leave here to-night!" 

cued RUSSO, "We got big business On 
and you may be needed." 

'I'll come right back as soon as thai 
kid's fixed." Jim's jaw was set. 

January 7tli, 1933. 


"Didn't you hear what the chief 
said?" shouted Marty. 

"I'm not deaf!" retorted Jim. "But 
I'm going — that's all there is to it. I'll 
get back as quick as I can, Russo." 

Johnny Russo made no comment. He 
was angry, but though a fiend he under- 
stood men. Jim was crazy about this 
girl and this kid, and if the boy was 
determined to go it might be as well 
to let him have his own way. If he 
caused trouble again a way might be 
found .to check his ardour. Ru6so was 
good at framing men who became diffi- 

Marty slid a hand to his hip, but 
Russo stopped him. 

There was a man by the door, and the 
latter barred Jim's path. 

"The chief says you can't go!" he 

"Go to blazes!" shouted Jim, and 
slammed the man on the point of the 
jaw with his bunched knuckles. The crook 
sagged limply to the floor. The doctor 
tore open the door and was gone. 

"What yer gonna do about it?" 
snarled Marty. 

"He's the best doc we ever had." 
Russo shrugged his shoulders. "I rather 
like his nerve. I felt that way over 
women myself once. Let it go this time, 
Marty, but I'll watch it don't occur 
again. Better be on the way and see 
that convoy of booze gets through. 
Those other mugs have handled the job 
badly. If you have any trouble use 
your gun. We got to show this district 
who are the masters. On your way." 

Marty had been gone about an hour 
when Spike appeared. 

"I just been bailed out," Spike 
panted. "Came right here after Law- 
sons had handed over five hundred from 
your bail money." 

"You mugs have got to be more 
alert." said Russo. "You seem to walk 
into the cops' hands." 

"Yeah, I should say so." Spike 
laughed unpleasantly. "I can tell you 
somethin' about that!" 

"Are you telling me?" 

"Chief, take an earful of this." 
Spike's voice was husky and his small 
face was. twisted into vicious lines. "I 
walked into the cops, an' afore I could 
do a thing they had bracelets -on me. 
Feelin' mighty sore, I was taken to 
headquarters, and I guessed I was due 
for some third degree. They dumped 
me outside the commissioner's own wig- 
wam and then one of the flat foots goes 
in with some papers and I can look in- 
side the room. Got the idea, chief? I 
gets the shock of my life. Sittin' at the 
Big Noise's table, as comfortable as you 
please, is Dr. Jim Harper." 

"What's that?" Russo leaped out of 
his chair. "You're lying, you rat?" 

"IIa\e I ever lied to yer?" fiercely 
cried Spike. "Why should I lie to you 
now. It was the doc and he and the 
Big Noise 'were on friendly terms. 
though they was arguin' about some- 
thin'. Chief. I never did trust the doc. 
lie's been on the level for years. I 
knows all the folks thought he was a heok 
of a swell guy. Then there was that 
dame. She's given him up, and I 
knows he's mighty sore about it. Oh, 
it all points to the truth, chief. How 
many men have you lost lately? How 
many of your raids or hold-ups have 
gone screwy ? How did I come to walk 
straight into the cops, because some guy 
is squealin' on us. Chief, I heard 
enough to convince me." 

"You're right, Spike." Russo raised 
his clenched fists. "Dr. Jim shall an 
In me for tin-. I'll make him pay my 

"How will you ge\ him, chief " cried 
Spike. "Let me drill the skunk?" 

fEvery Tuesday 

"Shooting's too good for him." 
Russo's eyes shone with madness. "I've 
got to think of something pleasant." 

Russo was still thinking when half an 
hour later there was a feverish rapping 
at his private door. 

"See who it is, Spike," Russo ordered. 

"By gar, it's Marty." Spike flung 
open the door. " They've got him, 

Two of the gang carried a badly 
wounded Marty into the room and laid 
him on a couch. 

"We hadn't been long on the road 
when cops appeared from all sides," 
Marty managed to whisper. "The only 
chance was a get-away. Most of the 
boys were either shot down or captured. 
I was with the front lorry. We tried 
to hold 'em, but the others lost their 
nerve and 6noved up their hands after 
a few shots. We three made for the 
woods, and I stopped a packet in the 
thigh. There's only one chance for me — 
where's Dr. Jim ?" 

"Dr. Jim is the double-crosser who has 
done this." Russo could hardly control 
his rage. "I'd like to strangle him with 
my own hands." He knelt beside his 
right-hand man. "I'm going to look at 
the wound, Marty." 

It was plain enough that the buDet 
was buried deeply and that Marty was 
in a bad way. Already the crook had 
lost a lot of blood. 

"Only one guy can save me," moaned 
Marty. "That'6 the doc. Get him to 
fix it and then fix him afterwards." 

"You're right, Marty." Inspiration 
gleamed in the leader's bloodshot eyes. 
"I'll fix him afterwards." He spun 
round on the two gangsters who had 
brought in Marty. "Go after Dr. Jim 
and fetch him here. Marty is dying — 
that's all that should be necessary. If 
he causes trouble you bring him here by 
force. Spike, tell the boys where this 
Murdock girl lives." 

Danny's Miraculous Recovery." 

DANNY DILLON had made up his 
mind that no one should attend 
him but Dr. Jim. If Jim didn't 
come then he would get worse and woree. 
Ruth had tried him with all kinds of 
tempting beverages, but he just shook 
his head. Ruth fetched one doctor, and 
the boy just lay there and sulked. 

"A fever and temperature of a 
hundred and two," the doctor told Ruth. 
"But what's the trouble, I can't say. 
Perhaps he's eaten something that hasn't 
agreed with him." 

Every few minutes Danny would 
out for Jim until Ruth was driven nearly 
frantic. His temperature went up a 
point, and then Ruth lowered her pride 
and rang up Dr. Jim. 

Directly Danny knew that Jim was on 
the way he smiled, turned over and went 
to sleep. 

It was Ruth who opened the door when 
the young doctor arrived. The gir 
pale and her expression was almost 

"Danny won't see anyone else, so I 
had to send for you," was her explana- 
tion. "He seemed to get better directly 
he knew you were coming." 

"Ruth, I'm going to say one thing." 
Jim was very earnest. "Probably I 
ought not to say it, but I want you to 
understand that I can make no explana- 
tion of what I am going to tell you. 
It's just this. I'm sorry you don't trust 
me. but I hope that I'm not so despic- 
able as to change my colours without 
very good reason." 

"Then, Jim, why " began Ruth. 

"I can say no more." He spoke 
quietly. "Now I want to see Danny, 

(Continued on page 27.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 15 

A woman and two men are found adrift in an open boat, and Gorilla Larsen takes them 
aboard his windjammer. The woman causes trouble, and there are fights, a mutiny and 
a smashing climax of fire at sea. A thrilling story of the Barbary Coast. Starring Ralph 

Ince, Reed Howes and Wheeler Oakman. 

Out of the Storm. 

THE MtTilla, throe days out of 
Alexandria and headed westward, 
plunged dangerously into the 
trough of the seas, and as she came up 
again a gigantic wave raked her main 
d« k from stem to stern. 
Practically tin- whole of the crew 
■ i there — a dangerous 
mob of mi oy nationalities, the 

riff-raff of Suez, '1 hey were grouped in 
a semi-circle about a giant of a man, 
flaxen-haired and Ho was 

their skipper, Captain Karl Larsen. 
Larson looked them over dis- 
ly, hardly noticing the rush of 
■ that almost swept them from their 
At the end of Ins long, powerful 
aims were two hunched fist°. 

"They <all me the Gorilla," he said 
•lowly. "As a crew you're new to me, 

but maybe you're heard my i ■• n 

anyone got anythin' to say?" 

a buily Levantine, 
ied forward. In his hand was a 

ip'n Larsen," he said. 
"We don't care pothin' for youi cargo 
havin' to bo delivered within a week. 
The wind is riant'. We demand that 
" Yq i demand ?" I ' 

tinged with ironic amusement. " You 
I [e It 
and noted 
with i that the sails were well 

filled. "'I ryin' that, way," he 


They still 
tained their po thing 

■ a little 

ilanning to hem him in. 

,| to them 

one inch — there would be murder done. 
They were rats, all of them — just dock- 
side rats. 

"You'd best get them sails shortened, 
cap'n," said the Levantine. "Kimnin' 
full before a wind like this ain't safe. 
got to think for ourselves." 

Larson laughed outright. In 6pite of 
the danger of the situation, he so. 
in rare good humour. 

"Think for yourselves, you scum?" ho 
roared. "Why, you haven't got anythin' 
to think with!" i I is expression changed 
suddenly. His jaw was thrust out, and 
his shoulders were squared. "Now, you 
let me tell you somethin'l" he 
shouted menacingly. " I'm skipper 

aboard tin- ship, and 1 sailed 
before most of you were whelped. 
below, or I'll [Hit tho lot of you in 

Tho ship dipped again, anil was n 
by a bea econd ti 

men glanced uneasily at the hi 
around them, and began to mu 

'J'he Levantine took advantage of the 
situation. Ho blandished his belaying 
pin on high. 

"Follow me!" he yelled. "We'll soon 

allow " 

He got no Further, for at that moment 
became within reach n's lengthy 

ied fists I, 

anline's I 

The Levantine staggered backwards 

into tho mob behind him, but they 
d him onward- again. Larsen 
stopped back a pace or two and wait 

Suddenly one of the men sprang. 
Larsen Oaught bitn deftly while bis feel 

deck am nun 

"Back! he roared. "Back, or your 
own mother, won't know you!" 

They disregarded his warning and 
rushed. Larsen lunged forward, send- 
ing the Beaman smashing into 
of them. There was a bowl of pain. I 
live of the I ' ied on to the 

slippery planking. 
The | Larsen was into 

hi? arm- working like windmills, 
lb; lashed out righi and left, his 
knuckles connecting time and again 
with bony i 
The Levantine, recovering from 
first blow . : 

his belay iiil; pin on high. 
Larsen saw him in time, and j. 
ays. A- the Levantine's hand 
• I downwards, Larson hit him a 
.second tune. 

It was a murderous blow, at d - 

the l.e\ anl me behind tho ear. I b 
down, clawing wildly at those nearest to 

Lai- pped back .against a deck- 

ded hi- arms. A thin 

trickle of blood I lit knuckle ran 

down In- I 

"Is theri leman who 

would care to address the meetin'?" ho 
asked pleasantly. 
There wa who had 

fallen pick. | M painfully 

and stood facing him in sullen 
Only tho Levantine remainded flown. 
"No?" Larsen went on. lie was 

almost fi iendlj in iendli- 

' ten to me. and the 

next man out, of turn is 

January 7th, I: 


gonna be called to order. When I say 
anything on board this ship, it's the 
same as if it had been said by the King 
of Africa. I'm master here — master in 
every sense of the word. I'm your 
master, scum, and so long as we're at 
sea, I've got you body and soul. That's 
the rule on the Melilla. Now get for'ard 
and take little Percy with you." 

He indicated the Levantine. The 
others picked their unconscious leader 
up and went forward. 

Larsen watched them go, his face one 
huge grin. He turned and walked aft 
to the bridge. 

The mate was up there, and Larsen 
climbed to his side. 

"'That will quieten them for a while,'' 
he said calm!}-, as though mutinies were 
an everyday occurrence. " What's the 

The mate, white of face, glanced at 
the compass. 

''West by nor', sir." he said in a 
frightened voice. " The wind's on our 
port quarter." 

"Hold her to that. We'll do another 
hundred miles before this gale blows 
itself out." 

He stared out over the bows, search- 
ing the angry seas with a keen, ex- 
perienced gaze. The ship rose and 
dipped with fearsome regularity, now 
and then coming down with a jar that 
shook her violently. 

''A record run, I think, mister," he 
said to the mate. "If we make the 
Sidra Gulf by to-morrow — ■ — " 

He broke off suddenly and strained his 
eyes ahead. Somewhere in that inferno 
he had detected something strange — 
something that should not be there. 

" Hev, mister, look !" he said quick! v. 
"What's that? A little to starboard." 

He pointed, and the mate looked. A 
tiny white speck was pitching wildly 
about half a mile away. 

"It looks like a boat, sir," said the 

Larsen snatched a pair of binoculars 
from the chart-house and levelled them 
at his eyes. 

"It is a boat," he said. "A yacht's 
dingy, painted a light colour. She's got 
someone in her. Three people. Here, 
take these." 

He ridded himself of the binoculars, 
and slid down to the main deck. 
Quickly he ran forward to the fo'c'sle 

" All hands on deck I" he bawled. 
"Come on out of there, you lubbers!" 

The crew, in the middle of a re- 
bellious discussion upon what they would 
do to Gorilla Larsen if ever they caught 
him unawares, sprang to the ladder and 
tumbled out into the open. Sullenneas 
had been replaced by fear in most of 

"Topmen aloft!" Larsen bellowed. 
"Clear away the sea-boat!" 

The crew jumped to it. A dozen of 
them swarmed up the rigging and took 
their stations ready to shorten sail, 
while three others started to make the 
sea-boat ready for lowering. They 
asked no questions; they knew that if 
they did the answers would he painful. 

Larsen ran back to the bridge and 
Icok over t ho wheel : 

"Oct below, mister," he said to the 
mate. "See that the men work 
smartly. It's gonna be no Sunday- 
school outin' when we heave-to in this 

The mate hurried away, and Larsen 
fixed his eyes once more on (he frail 
cockle-shell of a boat ahead. He 
waited, judging to a nicety the dis- 
tance in H hich he could turn. 

Then he put his helm hard over, and 

hauled to (lie mate. The square upper 

and lower sails on the three masts 

spilled their wind abruptly and were 

January 7th, 1933. 


lashed close. The vessel lost way and 
began to roll heavily in the trough. 
Then her head oame to the wind, and 
she seemed to stop dead a bare dozen 
fathoms from the dinghy. 

It was magnificent seamanship. Only 
Larsen could have done it in a gale lrke 

"Get that boat away !" Larson roared, 
his voice booming heavily above the 
shriek of the wind. 

The boat swung out on her davits, 
and the falls payed out rapidly through 
the blocks. A shout from below told 
Larsen that the boat was ready for slip- 
ping, and he gave the vessel a fraction 
more helm. 

Ten minutes later all had been made 
fast again, and the Melilla was back 
on her old course. Meanwhile, Larsen 
was in his cabin, gazing down upon two 
men and a woman. 

The Gorilla Shows Himself. 

LARSEN gave his attention to the 
men first. One was somewhat 
older than the other, but that was 
not the only difference between them. 

The younger had clean-cut features. 
His eyes were closed and his dark hair 
was plastered in a soggy mass over his 
face, but Larsen knew a man when he 
saw one, and this youngster was at least 

The elder, on the other hand, had a 
man-about-town appearance. His face 
was heavily lined with vicious living, 
and there was something cunning about 
him. Where Larsea was the master 
with fists, this man would be master 
with brain. 

Larsen grunted and turned to the 
woman. She was lying on his bunk, 
and. when he came to look at her 
closely, he drew his breath in sharply. 
She was beautiful — he could think of no 
better word. Even exposure to the gale 
and spray could not mar the perfection 
of her features. 

As Larsen stared at her, he heard a 
movement behind him. He turned to 
find that the younger man had opened 
his eyes. 

"Where — where am I?" he asked. 

"You're on board the Melilla," re- 
plied Larsen. "I'm the master — Cap- 
tain Larsen. Who are you?" 

The young man passed his hand 
wearily across his forehead. 

"My name's Burton — Dave Burton," 
he said. "I say, you haven't such a 
thing as a tot of brandy, have you?" 

Larsen went to his cupboard and pro- 
duced the drink. He poured out a stiff 
glassful and held it to the other's lips. 

Dave Burton swallowed some of the 
fiery liquid, and gasped. Colour came 
back to his face, and ho found the 
strength to get to his feet. 

"So you saved the other two," he 

"Yes. They were in the same boat." 
said Larsen. " What arc their names?" 

"Mr. and Mrs. Wells, of London," 
replied Dave. "How is — Mrs. Wells?" 

" She'll get better in a few minutes," 
said Larsen. He watched Dave closely. 
"Do you want to know about the man 
— her husband — too?" 

"No." Dave's voice was intensely 
bitter. "I wish you'd pitched him over 
the side." 

Larsen relaxed and laughed. He 
found himself liking young Dave. There 
was something familiar about his face 
that Larsen could not quite place. It 
was as though they had met before 

Larsen shrugged his shoulders. He 
could not remember. 

"'Sou don't seem to like him," he 
said, nodding at Wells. "What's he 
-been doin' to you?" 

Every Tuesday 

Dave Burton did not reply immedi- 
ately, but appeared to think." Then ho 
locked up, 

"You'd better know," he said. "If 
ever a man deserved to be punished, 
that man is Wells. He and Mrs. Wells 
and I were cruising in his private yacht, 
and without any warning he scuttled 
her. She went straight to the bottom 
like a stone, and we bad only just 
enough time to take to the boats." 

"Scuttled her, eh?" said Larsen. 

" Well. Mrs. Wells and I are in love 
with each other. He found out, and 
that was his way of getting revenged. 
He's mad. I reckon. For years he's 
made Stella's life a hell for her, until 
she couldn't stand it any longer. She 
was going to ask him for a divorce." 

"That still doesn't explain why he 
scuttled his yacht," said Larsen. "What 
was his idea ?" 

"Murder," said Dave quietly. "He 
reckoned he'd get the two of us in an 
open boat, and stun us when we were 
off our guard. Then he was going to 
throw us into the sea and report us 
drowned. Unfortunately for him, I'm 
not easily stunned." He grinned re- 
miniscently. "I took the bang over 
the head, then started to ask questions. 
He talked all right. He'd have been 
dead otherwise." 

Larsen answered Dave's grin with 
another. Then he turned to look back 
at Stella Wells. She was sitting up, 
trying to arrange her hair, and sway- 
ing to the pitching of the ship. 

His eyes narrowed, and he thought 

Here were two men facing death for 
a woman. The woman was married to 
one, but loved another. What a pair 
of weak fools they were ! 

Women had not come Larsen's way 
much, but he reckoned he could take 
care of one better than that. If Stella 
had been his 

The idea that came into his head was 
startling. Why not? Why shouldn't 
Stella be his ? Why should she have to 
be at the mercy of such men as these? 

Quickly his lawless mind made plans. 
Pic would get the two men out of the 
way. Then lie would set out to put 
himself high in Stella's favour. She 
would be able to see a man — a real man 
— a master of other men. He'd ask 
her to marry him, and if she refused — 
well, she'd have to anyway. He would 
make her, even if it meant using force. 

His brain, having formed the plan, 
set about executing it. He went to the 
door of the cabin and called one of the 

"Take him." he indicated the stiit- 
unconscious Wells, "and put him in a 
spare bunk. Sec that he stays there 
until I say otherwise. Understand?" 

"Yes, sir," replied the seaman, 
picked Wells up. and took him away. 

Larsen turned to Dave. His expres- 
sion was crafty. 

"You go for'ard with the men," ho 
said. "I'll see that the ladv's all 

He knew what was coming. His 
order had been framed so that it would 
bo disobeyed. 

"I think I'll stay here," said Lave. 
"I can't leave her alone, you know." 

Larsen went up to him and thrust 
his face close. 

"You heard me. Go for'ard!" 

Dave met his gaze unyieldingly. 

"I'll stay here." he said. 

Larsen swung back his fist and struck. 
Dave, taken unawares, took the full 
force of the blow, and collapsed. Larson 
went to the door and flung it open. 

"Hey, you!" he bellowed to one of his 

Every Tuesday 

men. "Take this man below and keep 
jiim in custody. I'll teach people to be 
mutinous in this ship ! Jump to it '." 

The man obeyed Larsen's order with 
alacrity. Larsen waited until they had 
gone, then shut the door carefully 
behind them. 

He turned, to find Stella Wells stand- 
ing in the middle of the cabin, shaking 
with terror. Grinning, he approached 
her slowly. 

The Coward. 

FOR the first time he noticed that she 
had in her possession a small black 
bag. She was clutching it tightly 
to her, and a- he came to a halt in front 
of her, she half-turned away as though 
to protect it with her body. 

'"Plea iid. "I want to go. " 

I., rsea scratched his head for a 
moment to dig* tatement. Then 

jie laughed shortly. 

W re to?" he asked. "You can't 
get far. There's sea all round you." 
" I want to go to my husband.'' 
Larsen blinked at her in astonishment. 
He . (I to refined shore women, 

and did not realise that this was her way 
of telling him that she did not want to 
" I reckon I don't believe that," he 
bluntly. "Not long back, if what 
ir i-; right, ho tried to murder yon. 
voke up yet." 

"Then. Mr. Burton " 

II - below. I had to make him a 
i oner for mutiny on the high seas." 
He indicated a chair. 'Won't you -it 
■ .'" 

ignored his invitation, anl stared 
at him long and searchingjy. Then, sud- 
den: igh she had made up her 
mind abo nig, she openel the 
- carrying, and held it out. 
Thank you for saving u- 
"Yiiu are entitled to some reward. Here, 

take this." 

II . . ed down into the open bag and 
I. It. was half-filled with jewels, 

And first glance that thej 

of immense value. 


He took them, gaping stupidly. Some- 
how he felt sadly ill-at-ease in Stella- 
presence, and this offer of her jewellery 
bewildered him. 

Then he flushed a deep red. Men he 
could handle; he knew where he was 
with them. But this woman — well, she 
was offering him common payment. 

She looked upon him as someone who 
expected payment. She did not under- 
stand that he was master here, and thus 
worthy of friendship. 

He raised his hand suddenly, intending 
to strike the bag from her hands. At 
that moment eight bells sounded from 
the bridge, bringing him with a jolt back 
to a 6ense of duty. 

"I expect you're tired," he said. 
"You'd better get some rest. I'm goin' 
on watch, and I shan't be down here 
again for four hours. We'll have dinner 
then — and a talk. Maybe, if you tried 
a little, vou could come to like me. 

He turned abruptly and left the cabin. 
She stared after him, dumb with fear. 

Meanwhile, down in the midships 

hold, Davo Burton lay on a pile of 

coffee sacks wondering how he could 

escape. Standing not far away from him 

io of the crew, keeping watch. 

Time drifted by slowly, but the man 
gave Davo no opportunity to make a 
break for freedom. He stood across the 
doorway, making it impossible for Dave 
to slip out unawares, ami Dave. h 
weakened Btate, felt no match for a sea- 
man weighing a good fifteen stone. 

At la-t, unable to endure the inactivity 
any lot poke. 

" Look hei '■." he said, " I've got to get 
back to my friends. I've got plenty ol 
money, and I'll give you twenty pound* 
if you'll let nn> go." 

Be produced his sodden wallet, and 
counted four five-pound notes from it. 
1 1 leld them out invitingly. 

The man stared down at liim stolidly. 

"You'd k Cap'n Larsen," he 


"I'll make it twenty -five," said Dave 


The man was obviously tempted by 
such a sum, but he still remained where 
he was. 

"Look here, mister, if I let you go," 
he said, "the cap'n would kill me hist 
and you afterwards. He's all right to 
those who do what he says, but to those 
who don't he's the devil himself. I can't 
take your money. I'd rather stay alive." 

Dave saw that it was no good arguing. 
Larsen had driven fear into him of a 
sort that is lasting. 

Dave himself felt no fear. He was 
wondering about Stella. What had hap- 
pened to her? Was k!io safe? He was 
tortured by the thought that she i: 
need him. 

Some horns pa--ed by. Then one of 
the cabin boy> crept into the hold. He 
bore in his 1m ml a -nap of paper, n 
he handed to Dave. 

"Here." .said the seaman sharply, 
" what's the idea ?" 

"It's all right." lied the boy. "The 
cap'n himself -cut it." 

Dave unfolded the note rapidly, and 
read : 

"Come to - ly. I am in 

danger. — Stella.'" 

Dave dragged the boy out of hei 
of the seaman, and whispered: 

" \\ 

"In the cap'n'e cabin," replied 
boy. is on the 

luiil.'.'." Ife thrust his hand into his 
pocket and produced a glittering 
diamond ring- . e me this for 

bringing that letter to you." 

Ill _'i ch more if you'll do 

what I t'-!l you," -aid Dave. "Can I 
in j on ':" 
II - , the notes under the boy's 

You can ; -aid the boy, his' 

ening. "What do you want 
me to do?" 

"We'll deal with him first." He 

nodded towards the seaman. "Get -him 

talking. Make him turn his back on 
mc. I'll do the rest." 

January 7lti, 1'jZ3, 


The boy showed that he understood, 
and went towards the seaman. 

"There's {poise to be trouble up there 
soon," he said •chattily. " The men are 
getting sick of C'ap'n Larsen's ordering 

about, and " 

He did not have to say any more. 
The seaman, absorbed in what he was 
saying against a common enemy, did 
not notice Dave creeping up behind him. 
He felt a crushing blow on the back of 
the head, then dropped. 

Dave slung the colfec-sack he had im- 
provised into a sandbag awav from him. 
"Where is Mr. Wells hidden?" he 
asked quickly. 

"Up for'ard," replied the boy. 
"I want to get to him quickly. Can 
we reach him without being seen from 
the deck ?" 

The boy motioned to a doorway in the 
forward bulkhead, and Dave followed 
him through it. In less than a minute 
they were in the rope-room next to the 

Wells was lying on a pile of hemp, 
smoking. He looked vp as Dave 
entered, and scowled. 

"Well, what do you want?" he asked 

"I've just received this from Stella," 
he said, and held out the note. 

Wells glanced at it and shrugged his 

"I don't see that it's any concern of 
mine," he said. You're her champion, 
not me. Deal with the matter your- 

Dave swallowed his wrath, and became 

"Look here, Wells," he said, "this 
is no time for personal differences. 
Stella needs help urgently. I look to 
you to stand by me." 

"Look away," said Wells indifferently. 
"I don't see any reason why I should 
get myself into a hole just because of 
you two." 

Dave stared at him dumbfounded. 
lie had always known Wells to be a 
bounder, but he had never expected 
such rank cowardice and beastliness 
as this. 

"You mean to say you won't help 
your own wife against these men?" he 

"No. Why should I?" Wells calmly 
puffed at his cigarette. " Although she's 
nay wife, as you say, she loves you. 
It's your concern." 
Dave stood over him, fists clenched. 
"You cur!" he said contemptuously. 
"You've always treated her as though 
she were a slave. That's why you lost 
her. And now you won't even give 
her the protection any man ought to 
give to any woman." 

Wells waved his hand in the direction 
of the doorway. 

"You'd better hurry," he said coolly. 
"She might be waiting for you." 

For a few seconds Dave wondered 
whether it would be worth flinging 
himself at him; then he decided against 
it. He turned on his heel abruptly. 

"Get me to the captain's cabin," he 
said abruptly to the boy. " You can 
have your money then." 

The boy led the Way, and Dave fol- 
lowed closely. They reached the cabin, 
and Dave quickly thrust a note into 
the boy's hand. Then he paused, his 
fingers closing on the handle of tho 
door, and listened. 

Larson was inside. He had been 
relieved early, and had returned to the 
cabin as quickly as ho could. 

He found Stella sitting in front 6f 
the stove shivering. She had started 
up at his entrance, and had backed 

Larson had talked to her. In hi* 
crude way, he had imagined that after 
January 7th, 1933. 


the dangers to which she had been 
exposed by Wells and Dave, she would 
readily see in him a man whom she 
could trust. He had told her that he 
loved her — wanted her to marry him. 

She had backed away even further, 
and he had followed. Just as Dave 
reached the outside of the cabin, she 

had screamed 

Dave burst in, his fists clenched and 
his eyes blazing. 

Stella was crouching in a corner 
against the bunk, white Larseu was 
standing over her, and his face went 
black with rage. 

"What in the blazes are you doin' 
here?" he demanded savagely. lie 
crossed to Dave, and gripped him by 
the shoulders. 

Dave stood his ground. He even 
laughed shortly. 

" ¥ou fool, .Larsen," he said quietly. 
"You're still the same old gorilla — 
thickheaded and brutal. You're still 
reaching out for the moon." 

"What do you mean?" demanded 
Larsen. Some of his rage had evapor- 
ated now, and he was showing signs 
of awkwardness. "What are you gettin' 

"I don't need to explain, do 1, 
Larsen?" said Dave. "Once before you 
thought that the only men in the 
world were gorillas like yourself. Then 
your life became in danger, and " 

Larsen fell back, brushing his hands 
over his eyes. 

"You!" he breathed. "You!" 

A vivid picture came into his mind. 
Three years ago he had been caught m 
a storm in Biscay, and his ship, a 
260-ton barque, had been smashed to 

He had been thrown into the raging 
seas, and had found a spar. For hours 
he clung to it, hope dying fast. The 
coast of northern Spain was but six 
miles away, but he had known it to be 
a deserted coast. Surely no one had 
seen the rockets he had fired just before 
the barque had foundered. 

Suddenly he had heard a shout. He 
answered it, straining his eyes in the 
darkness to see where it had come 

A tiny sailing vessel had borne down 
upon him, and a pair of strong hands 
had hauled him out of the icy w-ater. 

"By cripes," he had managed to 
mutter, "where in the blazes did you 
come from?" 

" I happened to be out on the beach, 
and I saw your signals," the man 
replied. "So I put out to you. Better 
keep quiet now. I can't talk and man- 
age this boat in a gale at the same 

The man had re-set his sails, and the 
boat — a bare twenty feet long and 
rigged as a cutter — raced through the 
smashing seas to the shore. 

Yes, Larsen remembered it all now, 
The young man had been Dave Burton. 
So that was where he had seen the young 
man before! 

"Yes, me, Larsen," said Dave. "The 
boy in the cockle-shell. 

Larsen released him and stepped back. 
In his primitive way he had gratitude 
enough not to want to harm Dave, yet 
what Dave had just said rankled. 

"What was you getting at just now?" 
he demanded. "You said I was still 
the same old gorilla." 

"Well, aren't you?" said Dave evenly. 
"When you and I were in Gijon together 
after I got you ashore, you thought of 
nothing else but showing everyone what 
a man you were. You made me take 
you to all the best places and meet all 
the best people. Your own kind didn't 
interest you. And you've still got the 
same ideas." 

Every Tuesday 

Imperceptibly he nodded his head to- 
wards Stella. 

Larsen tensed himself belligerently. 

"Well, ain't I a man?" he demanded 
truculently. "Can't I tight better than 
any skipper along the Barbary coast?" 

"If scrapping were all that's wanted 
in this world, you'd be commodore of 
the Cunard Lino," said Dave. "But it 
isn't — that's why you're skipper of tho 
Melilla. Think it over — you'll see what 
I'm getting at." 

Larsen thought it over. No man had 
ever dared speak to him this way before ; 
as a result he had never known the truth 
about himself. He had always re- 
garded himself as something great — 
something invincible. 

But he began to see where he had 
gone wrong. Brute strength was not the 
ruling factor in the world. If it were, 
he — Larsen — would be at the top of his 
profession, as Dave had said. 

"No, brains were wanted. Yes, and 
manners. The sheer honesty in Larson's 
soul made him see that. 

It made him see something else. too. 
Stella was not for such as he. She 
belonged rightly to this young man 
before him. They weren't gorillas — 
they were of the same class. 

" Well ? " asked Dave quietly, wonder- 
ing at the pause. 

Larsen shook his bullet head. 

"You're right, young man," he said. 
"But if you think a fighter ain't any 
use to you, I'll show you otherwise. 
You want that woman, don't you?" 

"Of course," replied Dave. 

"Then I'm gonna get her for you. 
You saved my life, and I reckon that's 
the least I can do in return." He 
crossed the cabin and threw open the 
door. "Hey, two of you. Bring that 
lubber from the rope locker. Make it 

"What are you going to do?" asked 

Larsen grinned. He looked more like 
a gorilla than ever. 

" Wait and see," he replied 

Mutiny ! 

THERE was a short wait. Dave 
went across to Stella, and put his 
arms about her. She smiled up at 
him bravely. 

Presently there came the sound of 
heavy feet on the deck outside, and the 
door opened, again. Two of the crew 
entered, thrusting Wells before them. 

Wells looked at Larson, then at Dave. 
His lips curled in a sneer. 

"So you didn't need my help " ho 


Larsen, grinning brutally, thrust him- 
self forward and gripped Wells by the 

"I'm a pretty good judge of character, 
mister," he said, "and I don't like you, 
so choose your words carefully." 

The sneer quickly vanished from 
Wells' face. 

"I'm sorry, captain," he said smoothly. 
"You sent your men for me." 

Larsen released him and stepped back 
disgustedly. This man was a rank 
coward, and showed it. Larsen had no 
time for people like him. 

" I sent for you because there's a 
tangle you can help clear up," he said 
roughly. "The lady there wants to 
many the boy, and I reckon he's goin' 
to. I don't know much about these 
things, but I expect there's a way of 
gettin' out of marriages in your 
country. " 

"Divorce," said Wells. 

"Ay, that's it — divorce. That's what 
you're gonna do to your wife. Give her 
a divorce." 

Wells looked at him in mild surprise, 

Every Tuesday 

"Really, captain, I'm hanged if I see 
what business it is of yours!" he said. 
• While I'm on board your ship you can 
pretty well do what you like with me, 
but I don't see that gives you the 
privilege of interfering in my private 

The old conceit in Larsen was strong. 

"You can stow the pretty words, 
mister," he said. "I don't know much 
about what happens ashore, but I do 
know men. You said just now that this 
is no business of mine. Well, I'm goin' 
to say that it is. Some time back you 
scuttled a ship, and put a whole crew in 
danger of their lives. That's any 
skipper's business. Men like you ain't 
tit to live, but I reckon I'm not takm' 
on the responsibility of doing someone 
else's work for 'em. The Admiralty 
courts will settle with you for the 

"Then what is all this fuss about?" 
demanded Wells. 

"Just this. There's two men in this 
cabin who love Stella Wells— and her 
husband ain't one of them. I ain't her 
kind, but the boy here is. You're gonna 
give her that divorce so that he 
marry her." 

Wells surveyed him coolly. 

"I'll see you to the devil first!" he 
said curtly. 

Larsen'6 fists clenched until the nails 
bit into the palms of his hands. He— 
Lai -en — to be spoken to by this rat! 

" You'll obey me, or " 

"Or what?" 

Larsen tensed himself ready to strike. 
Then he Buddenly stopped and looked at 
Wells speculatively. 

"After all. maybe you'd be better 
d< ..'I.'' lie -aid slowly. 

He went to a locker and drew from it 
a heavy, six-chambered revolver. 
Slowly, almost deliberately, he crossed 
t,, Well-- again, and jabbed the muzzle 
against his ribs. 

"There's nothin' to stop any man 
marryin' a widow." he said grimly. 
" N'ow, mister, for the last time, will you 
obey my orders?" 


Wells tried to protest. 

"This is ridiculous " he began. 

" You have just five seconds, mister," 
said Larsen. 

Quickly Stella broke away from Dave 
and thrust herself between the two 
men. She faced Larsen. 

"You can't do that," she said. 
"Don't you see, it would be murder?" 

"It would be justice," said Larsen. 
"On shore you go to a judge and jury. 
Here I'm both." 

"You mustn't shoot a man down in 
cold blood, Larsen," broke in Dave. 
"They'd hang you for that." 

Larsen turned away disgustedly. He 
couldn't understand these people. They 
would live in misery for years, when, 
by a mere pressure of a finger on a 
trigger, all their problems could be 
solved. Once again he found himself in 
conflict with things that he did not 

" Maybe you're right— if they found 
out," he said. Then he brightened. 
"But nobody would find out," he went 
on. "None of the men would talk. If 
they did " 

The light pressure of Stella's hand on 
his arm silenced him. 

"We couldn't be happy knowing that 
we had his blood on our minds," she 
said. "It would be horrible— ghastly." 

Larsen scratched his head. He gave 
it up. 

Swiftly he turned on Wills, and 
pointed to the doorway. 

(let out!" he said briefly. "Go back 
to the rope locker and stay there. I'll 
put you ashore a- .soon as we touch port. 
In the meantime, if I see your face 
above decks, I'll smash it in!" 

WeiU tinned about and slid out of 
the cabin as quickly as he could. 

But he did nol return to the rope 
locker. Instead, he made his way for- 
ward, his crafty eyes narrowed to slits. 
Rapidly he went down the foc's'le 
ladder, and found himself in the bows of 
the ship. 


Most of the crew were gathered there. 
A silence fell upon them as he entered, 
and they looked up inquiringly. 

"Men, on board this ship is jewellery 
worth the best part of fifty thousand 
pounds," he said. Sheer hate showed 
on his face. "It belongs to me, and I'll 
pass it over to you if you'll help me." 

The huge Levantine who had stirred 
up trouble before looked at Wells with 
sudden interest. 

"What do you want us to do, 
guv'nor?" he asked. 

"I'll tell you. Larsen has stolen those 
jewels, and I don't intend to let him 
keep them. With you behind me, we'll 

obtain possession of the ship, and- " 

That's mutiny." someone broke in. 

"It is," said Wells calmly, "but no 
one will ever be able to bring the charge 
home to you. There are four people on 
hoard who are going to be washed over- 
board in the storm— Larsen, the mate, 
and two passengers." He paused, ex- 
pecting a reply. When none came, he 
went on: "I'll add sufficient to those 
jewels to bring every man two thous 
pounds apic 

The men stalled to murmur. They 
were impressed by the magnitude of 
the sum offered. The fact that v 
was mad with the lu>t for revenge meant 
nothing to them. They thought only of 
the wealth that was almost within their 
. and the joy of setting even with 

The Levantine was the first to reply. 

"I'm with you if the others are," he 
said, and tinned id the nun. "Let's do 
it. men." he said. "Larsen can't hold 
out against ' nearly thirty o' us. We've 
got bin 

Fired b\ hi- wind-, the crew let up a 
shout. Thi Wells placed him- 

.1 their head. 

"Follow me. men!" he she 

' Arm : h anything you 


They surged after hitn to the 
deck. ttiny ol the Mehlla had 

begun in eai 

Two ol the crew crept up behind the mate and seized him by the arms. 

January 7th, 1933, 


Fire ! 

NO one in the cabin had spoken since 
Wells had left. Somehow the 
three in it felt tense, as though 
something was about to happen. 

It was the mate on the bridge who 
first knew the seriousness of the situa- 
tion, and he did not have time to shout 
a warning. Two of the crew crept up 
behind him and seized him by the arms. 

"One shout, and you're a dead man," 
breathed a warning voice in his car. 

The mate fought to break away, but 
the hands that gripped him clenched 
tighter. Something descended on his 
head, and his 6enses swam. 

He made one last despairing effort. 
and the second blow fell. He dropped 
without a sound. 

Meanwhile the main body of the 
mutineers moved stealthily towards the 
cabin. They halted for a brief second 
outside the door, then burst in. 

They had reckoned to take Larsen 
by surprise, but their calculations had 
miscarried. Larsen had been standing 
facing the door. He had hardly moved 
since Wells had left, and the revolver 
was still in his hand. 

He brought it up with a sharp move- 
ment to his hip as the door crashed 
open, and a hard glitter came into his 
eyes as he saw Wells. 

" Yes. mister ?" he queried. His words 
were clipped short — they came out like 
the sharp crack of a machine-gun. "Did 
you want to 6ce me?" 

Wells was taken aback. 

"I've come for my wife's jewels." he 

The Levantine, well in the back of 
the mob uttered a mocking laugh. 

"We've got you this time. Larsen," 
he jeered. "You've had your day." 

Larsen moved swiftly. The gun spun 
in his hand, and the butt crashed under 
Wells' chin. Well6 staggered back 
against those immediately behitid him, 
and Larsen's fist shot out. 

The blow took the Levantine between 
the eyes, and he gave a yelp of pain. 
The crew wavered, staggered by the 
fierceness of Larsen's attack. 

Larsen leapt in amongst them, and 
drove them through the doorway. In a 
few seconds the cabin was clear, except 
for himself and Dave and Stella. 

He slammed the door viciously, and 
turned to them. 

" Looks like trouble," he said briefly. 
"But you don't have to worry. I may 
not be much good at lawyerin'. but this 
is somethin' I do know about." 

Dave's face was grave. 

"Wo can't hold out against all that 
lot," he said. " Why. the edds are fif- 
teen io one." 

"More — thirty to one." said Larsen. 
"You ain't in this, mkter. Your job is 
to look after the woman. I can handle 
this alone." 

There was a brief pause, then Wells' 
voice was heard outside. 

" Are you coming out, Larsen." he 
shouted, " or do we come in and get 

"Come in 

The door crashed open a second time, 
but on this occasion Wells was not in tin 

Larsen waited until they were almost 
on top of him. Then his powerful arms 
shot out. The hard rim of his weapon 
smashed full into the mouth of the man 
nearesr. The second was brought up 
dead by a bunch of knuckles that had 
all the toughm ss of steel. 

Larsen stepped back a pace. His grin 
med to have glued itself on to his 

"Now you, Wells," he invited, 
fanuarv 7th, 1983. 

get me," Larsen 


The remainder came on in a solid 
rush, and Larsen was borne back by 
sheer weight of numbers. His finger 
tightened on his gun, and the weapon 

"Look out !" someone bellowed. "The 
lamp !" 

The attack lost its momentum as the 
crew held back. The cabin suddenly 
went into semi-darkness: then a dull red 
flicker appeared from the floor. 

Wells did not see it, or if he did he 
decided to ignore it. 

"At him. men!" he shouted. "We've 
got him now !" 

They rushed again. Larsen brought 
his gun to his hip, and faced them 

"I'll shoot the next man " he 


He got no farther. They were on him 
like a pack of clawing wolves. His gun 
spoke a second time, and someone let 
up a scream of pain. 

Larsen was fighting for his very life 
now. A mass of closely packed bodies 
surged at him., and a dozen hands were 
fastened on to him. 

Suddenly a voice brought a deathly 

"Fire!" it shouted. "Fire!" 

For the first time the men realised 
that the cabin was practically an inferno. 
Half the floor was blazing fiercely, aided 
by the oil from the fallen lamp. Larsen 
saw the flames, and knew danger. 

"Out o' here, all o' you!" he said, 
his voice shattering the silence like an 
avalanche. "There's twenty barrels of 
crude naphtha stowed in the hold 
beneath, and if the fire eats through 

The men heard, and forgot him — 
forgot everything but their personal 
safety. They surged out on deck, and 
fought amongst themselves as they 
started to clear away the sea-boat. 

Larsen plunged into the twilight after 
them, dragging Dave and Stella with 
him. He checKed them until the crew 
had unbent the lashings of the boat and 
were ready to swing it out on its davits. 

Then he stepped amongst them, hurl- 
ing them right and left. 

"Come on, you two." he shouted to 
Dave and Stella. "In with you, quickly." 

Dave thrust Stella forward, while 
Larsen cleared a gangway for them 
through the struggling mass of men. He 
helped her into the boat, and got in 
after her. Then he turned to Larsen. 

"Come on, Larsen," he called. 
"You're coming, too." 

"I'm not." replied Larsen grimly, his 
eyes never leaving the men before him. 
The gun in his hand was ready for in- 
stant use. "The falls are clear across 
the thwarts. Unbend them and lower 
yourselves. I'm stay in' here to clear up 
some old scores." 

He held the crew while the boat slipped 
down out of sight below the gunwale. 
Then he heard Dave shout : 

"I can't slip her clear, Larsen. There's 
too much way on the vessel." 

Larsen eyed his crew, and there was 
death on his face. 

"Get aloft,'" he ordered. "Ease aw av- 
ail but the lower foresail. Jump to it." 

Wells thrust his wav to the front. 

"Rush him," he shouted, "or you 
will drown like rats." 

The men behind started to press for- 
ward, and Wells had to go forward with 
them. Larsen's jaw set, and he took 
careful aim. 

Wells let up a cry, and pitched forward 
on his face. There was no need to see 
what had happened to him. Larsen had 
shot to kill. 

"The next man who disobeys my 
orders dies with him," he said, "(lei 

Every Tuesday 

aloft and shorten sail. Then we'll get 
that fire under. Move!" 

There was the briefest of hesitation. 
Then the crew, bereft of their leader, 
broke and ran to their stations. The 
great sails collapsed and flapped futilely 
against the wind, and the man Larsen 
had sent to the helm put it hard down. 

Like a giant bird, the Melilla came 
up to the wind, and checked her way. 
Larsen leaned over the side. 

"Slip that boat," he said. "You'll be 
all right where you are. The storm's 
dyin', and you're on the main steamer 
routes. There are some flares under the 
aft thwart. Good luck!" 

"We can't leave you like this," shouted 
back Dave. "Both Stella and I want 
you to come, too." 

"By heaven, if you don't slip that 
boat I'll come down there an' do it for 
you," roared Larsen. 

Dave laughed, but somehow his eyes 
were misty. In spite of all that Larsen 
had tried to do, he was a man. He 
knocked away the shackles, and the boat 
dropped gently to the water. 

Larsen heard the splash, and nodded 
grimly. Then he turned back to the 

"Mr. Mate," he shouted. 

"Here, sir," replied the mate. He 
had recovered from the effects of the 
attack upon him, and was standing by. 

"Mr. Mate, there has been gross in- 
subordination on board this 6hip, " said 
Larsen. "Everyone has disobeyed my 
orders, and I don't stand for that. 
Muster the crew aft. There's a fire over 
number three hold." 

The mate sped away, and his voice rose 
above the pounding of the seas. 

"Fire stations," he bellowed. "Jump 
to it, men. Muster on the after deck." 

The men scrambled down the rigging. 
and formed into a group abaft the 
bridge. Larsen strode over to them, and 
ran his eye over them speculatively. 

"Gentlemen." he said with marked 
politeness, "the ship is on fire, and we 
have no boat. Just for once you will 
oblige me by doing what 1 say. Put 
that fire out. Our lives depend on it. 
Mr. Mate, take over." 

The mate leapt up to them. 

"Man the pumps." he ordered briefly. 
" Hosemem to the fire." 

Larsen watched them rushing away, 
and smiled to himself amusedly. 

"Young Dave Burton was right." he 
said. "I reckon I ain't no gentleman, 
but I'm half-way there now. I spoke to 
them like brothers, and they're jumpm' 
to it like never before. 1 reckon bein' 
that way pays — when there's death be- 
hind it." 

He grinned more widely, and threw 
himself into the work of putting out the 
fire. The hoses were run out. and the 
pumps clattered. Six powerful jets 
poured a flood into the master's cabin. 

Six hours later, his face seared and 
blackened, Larsen stood by the wheel 
once more. The sails above him strained 
in the night breeze. 

"What's the course, mister?" he 
asked the mate. 

"West by north, sir," the mate re- 

"Hold her to that. I'm goin' below 
to fill in, the loir. Well- is dead, ami I 
reckon somebody's goin' to need that log 
soon. Call me if anything happens." 

"Aye, aye, si:'." replied the mate re- 

Larsen jammed his hands into his 
poi I els. and I bought fully made his way 

(By permission of Butcher's Film Ser- 
vice, Ltd., starring Ralph Ince, Reed 
Howes, and Wheeler Oakman.l 

Every Tuesday 



West of Zanzibar on the Ivory Trail, at grips with the sinister Shillov, White Overlord 

of Darkest Africa's Bush! A grand serial-drama of a strange quest that was fraught 

with Peril and Intrigue. Starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jun., and Cecelia Parker. 


Hi ' / maibar from a hvnt- 

rpedition >u Central Africa, Kirk 

Mont /.(/ Fred Oaket it, hint<i) 

1/ liiiji Barbara Morgan and her fathet 
nil tin ttirVt brother, who dit- 
ii j j i hi • il during n quest illion 

tusk* hi buried ivory-, hidden by n long- 
trader, I i/mi, i 
1 1 * 
Hi Hi Waldron, a scheming advci ' 
mi' 1 Qeorgt Coutt daggering 

U a r< Zan 
tibar at thi ■inn timi n* iln- Morgan 
iHirii who ■'/'"," Kazimoto lithful 

uide and ■ 

In flu /urn/ -/li thi 31 Organ 

party establish themxclrei at tin tillagt 

While 'i 

a rli ui • i 
into l In ' ui ui-, 

tn learn tin truth of a itrangi 
concerning Zungu, a creatun >aid to 
in i in ni n man, bitl a 
• than " lion. 
/In •tin l.i il in/ ii gorilla, 'at 

■ i il by t In a >l'l 1 1 1 nt in i '/. 
who tin 

juiii/Ii . 

/, ■ into 'In hand of Bon 

uiiliiiii) uliiti limn who 
da u i a i mi/ < i ut i -it 

| i III tin 00 

\nd l',i Hi Waldron as queen. 

II In, i i il 

■■, In, til I: • I 

■l ml In 1 1 

Morgan j/arty to attack tht settlement. 
I ndi of tin shooting, Monti/ 

i they Hi • 

n gorilla, and tht girl, 

•i/i nati ii in i'Ii/i , i nun .< 
ih a leopard, and plunges 

llll'l II I I I,' !,'/ I 

Now Read On. 


A Close Call. 

IT seemed that Kirk Montgomery and 
Barb 1 1 i Mat gnu 
die, Mool • at t ; of the 

gorilla. Barbara In thi the 

crocodiles. Bui their plight had 
witni ..ho 

mown a idship 

I hem. 
The creatun Sungu, man 

man of tl Bar- 

bara I. Down from 

the b 

he waded 

but i 

behind her, ond, hut for Zungu, 

■d her und 
Zuo |,i ile 


him, then pounced 

'/und its scaly 

body, lii- ha i 1 1 intod 

fon h mil lifted 

• i uld lash 

in with its powerful tail, and in 

had burled it back into 

the midst of 

• ack. 
i ow ii into confusion, ond 
i prompt ly set up a tumuli 

beating thi nto foam 

as iu . the deafening out- 

A ikI had Barbara been in any 
lit, she might 
have been amazed bj it, for • 
denizens of the river seemed overawed 
by the mighty man of the jungle. 

They kepi their distance, cruising to 
and fro. their snouts just above the sur- 
face, their malevolent eyes fixed 
the girl's And. meanwhile, 

cached the hank in &a 
and, scrambling up, began to a 
the slope of thi quick.!} . 


inhuman voice of Zur 

ringing out through the bush, and its 

on Monty - gruesome ai ■ 

a at aln.i. For 1 1 • 

suddenly its \ ictim 

ai ohimI wil d furt ive air, 

and then made off 

the jungle with awkward but rapid 

Wil for! Mont] Strugs 

feci. Jli- clothes were torn, and 
ha 1 bei ii badh bruised. I ■ ir i era I 

set oihIs he • Ould do no more than 
.iig to 1 < 

ii. and marvelling 

When hi i ined his strei 

.wards the edg 
nd, as he approached 

bi ink. I'.,u bars rose i 

ui ii half fainting condition, and, 


her. he watched tl 

ly to the 

• cliff 
and ha •■ ned into 1 1" bush and he had 
a file of men 
emei ged from thi 

Mom - hand went involuntarily lo 
Ins hip b ithed a sigh of re- 

lief as he recognised thi 

tacked Shilloi 's encampment. 
Morgan Fred, Kazimoto and < 
lass were at the head of the party, and, 
January 7tli, \'SM. 


as these hurried up to the spot where 
Monty and Barbara were standing, they 
looked at man and girl with concern. 

'"What's happened?" Morgan panted. 
"Monty, you look all in — and you, too, 

"We've both had a close call," Monty 
answered. "I was attacked by a 
gorilla. Barbara ran for the bridge 
there, but was met by a leopard and 
dropped into the river." 

"The crocodiles very nearly got me," 
the girl said with a shudder. "Then 
Zungu suddenly showed up, and he 
saved me . " 

"Zungu I" Fred exclaimed. "And 
what about the gorilla, Monty?" 

"Zungu's shouts seemed to frighten 
him away." the other youngster re- 
joined. "The leopard must have been 
soared, too, for I don't see any sign of 
him on the bridge now." 

"Animals fear Zungu. all-a same as 
natives," put in Kazimoto solemnly. 
"But we better make tracks for 
Lazuma's village. Shillov may send 
men on our trail." 

Shillov at that moment was nursing 
a Wounded wrist, which had been 
clipped by a bullet during the course of 
the fight, and he was applying first-aid 
to the hurt when Belle Waldron came 
out of the bungalow. 

Shillov was fuming with rage, and he 
spoke to Belle gruffly when she showed 
some anxiety over the injury he had 

"It's only a scratch." he told her. 
"Nothing to worry about. But, by 
thunder, if I wasn't sure that Kirk 
Montgomery knows where that ivory is, 
I'd wipe him and Ids party off the face 
of the earth I" 

He started to pace the veranda of the 
bungalow, striding back and forth 
savagely, and muttering 1 curses in his 
beard. Then all at once he heard a 
voice call his name, and. turning his 
head quickly, he saw Krotsky running 
across the compound. 

The man elbowed his way through a 
mob of Shillov's followers who were 
standing near the bungalow. He looked 
dishevelled and alarmed. 

"Shillov," he gasped, "Shillov, the 
Morgan girl is gone I" 

"What!" roared Shillov. his eyes 
fairly blazing. "The girl — gone? What 
fool's play is this, man? Why didn't 
you guard her as I told you?" 

Krotsky cringed under the fierce in- 
tensity of his gaze. "I tried to, 
Shillov, I tried." he whined. "But 
Montgomery and Oakes sneaked into 
the camp, under cover of the attack.'-' 

"You mean to say that you let two 
men get the girl away from you?" 
Shillov snarled. "The usual sentry was 
at the back postern to help von, wasn't 

"Montgomery and Oakes were not 
alone," Krotsky lied, in a desperate 
attempt to excuse his failure. "They 
had men with them, and they laid out 
the sentry just as I got there. I fought 
as best I could, but they were too many 
for me." 

"It looks as if the attack was a trick 
of Montgomery'.-. Boris," Belle Waldron 
interposed, "(o keep you and your men 
busy while he rescued the girl. Why 
don't you muster your men and launch 
a counter-attack on their camp?" 

"What good would that do?" Shillov 
muttered. "I don't want them killed. 
I want them to talk." 

"Well, you could overwhelm them 
and make them prisoners, " Belle ex- 
plained. "Then you could wring the 
secret of Tipoo Tib's ivorv out of 

Shillov pursed his lips. 

"They've taken up their quarters in 

January 7th, 1M3. 

'tft)Y'£ CINEMA 

the village of a chief called Lazuma," 
he said. "Lazuma's pretty powerful, 
and. though he's not anxious to make 
trouble with me, he wouldn't tolerate 
any raid on his village. No, Belle, I've 
got a better idea." 

He turned to Krotsky and rapped out 
a command. 

"Send Baganda to me!" he ordered 
curtly, and his lieutenant hurried off to 
do his bidding. 

"What's your plan, Boris?" Belle 
Waldron asked Shillov curiously. 

"I'm going to drive the Morgan party 
out of the village where they're stay- 
ing," he replied. "But I'm not using 

Belle frowned. 

" Then how are you going to manage 
it?" she demanded. 

"By turning Lazuma and his people 
against them," he declared, and as he 
spoke the words Krotsky returned to the 
bungalow veranda with one of Shillov's 
bushman allies. 

"Here is Baganda, Shillov," Krotsky 

Shillov looked at the negro, and spoke 
to him slowly. 

"Baganda," he growled, "I have 
work for you. Listen well to what 1 
have to say." 

"I listen, bwana," the black answered. 

The Killer. 

ARRIVED safely at Lazuma's 
village, Monty and his friends 
were engaged in a conference 
with Kazimoto when Georges Coutlass 
swaggered up. 

"Ha. Meester Morgan," he declared 
heartily, "I geev you the straight tip 
every time, yes ? Thanks partly to me, 
you have your daughter weeth you 
again, and, of course — you will not 
forget that I am entitled to some 

"Now what do you want, Coutlass?" 
Monty asked impatiently. 

The Greek showed his teeth in a 
flashing smile. 

"I want you to take me on the trip 
for Tipoo Tib's ivory," he rejoined. 

Monty was weary of the man's per- 
sistence, particularly as he knew him to 
be as disloyal as he was boastful. 

"Coutlass, how many times must you 
be told that we are not hunting foi 
ivory," he demanded, "but for Mr. 
Morgan's son Jack?" 

"Sure, I know," the Greek answered 
smoothly. "But by the Seven Seas, 
when we find Jack Morgan we will find 
the store of Tipoo Tib's ivory. For 
Jack Morgan was seeking it when he 

Before Monty could make any reply 
to this statement, Fred touched him on 
the shoulder. 

"Say, Monty," he declared, "there's 
something going on that I don't like. 
A strange native has just shown up, and 
he seems to be talking to Lazuma's 
people about us. They're obviously ex- 
cited, and it looks to me as if there's 
trouble brewing." 

The strange native was Baganda, 
Shillov's agent, and he was surrounded 
by a whole mob of the villagers, who 
were chattering and gesticulating as 
they listened to him. Monty at once 
turned to Kazimoto, and spoke to him 

"Work your way round to that group, 
and listen carefully," he ordered. "I 
want to know what's going on." 

Kazimoto nodded, and stole l away. 
The party of whites watched him draw- 
close to the natives, and take up a posi- 
tion on the outskirts of the Crowd. 
Then all at once they saw him leap into 
the. midst of the mob, elbow his way 

Every Tuesday 

to where Baganda was standing and 
seize the bushman in a vice-like grip. 

Kazimoto propelled the fellow through 
the throng of blacks and hustled him 
towards Monty's party. 

"Bwana," the interpreter said 
angrily, "this native' tell Lazuma's 
people you bad folk — -bring evil spirit-. 
Him tell natives to drive you away, or 
misfortune come upon the tribe." 

Monty's brow darkened. He knew 
the superstitious and impressionable 
nature of the primitive jungle people-. 
knew how easily they could be swayed 
by such talk. 

"This sounds like one of Shillov's 
ideas," he ground out, and, gripping 
Baganda by the arm, he demanded an 

The fellow refused to talk at first, but 
Monty bluffed him with threats, and 
presently the black began to whimper 
out a confession. 

"Bwana Shillov, him send me," he 
admitted. "Him want drive you 'way 
from here. Him say you after Tipoo 
Tib's ivory." 

"Well, he's wrong," Monty began, 
but before he could say more there was 
a sudden outcry in the village, and a 
native woman came running from one 
of the huts on the outskirts of the 
tube's settlement. 

She was screaming out in agitation, 
and the word "6imba " kept recurring 
on her lips. It was very clear to the 
party of whites that something was 
amiss and something that produced a 
hostile effect on Lazuma's people, for the 
warriors immediately armed themselves, 
and, with fierce shouts and levelled 
assegais, they surged towards Monty 
and his companions. 

Kazimoto sprang forward with out- 
stretched arms, and cried to them to 
stop. They did so, but still looked 
threatening enough as their chief strode 
forward and spoke harshly to the in- 

An impassioned consultation followed. 
The whites could scarcely understand a 
word of it, but presently Kazimoto 
turned to them and translated what had 

The incident that had aroused the 
natives was one that could not have 
occurred at a worse time, coming as- it 
did on the very heels of Baganda's 
attempt to incite the blacks. For, while 
Lazuma's only son had been playing in 
the dust outside the chief's hut, a lioness 
made daring, with hunger had pounced 
on the infant and carried him swiftly 
into the bush. 

"Lazuma, him say this prove you evil 
spirits who bring misfortune, bwana," 
Kazimoto told Monty. 

The youngster bit his lip, and then 
spoke to his companions. 

"We're in a tough spot," he ground 
out. "There isn't a chance of rescuing 
that child." 

"Lazuma say lioness has been prowl- 
ing near village many days," Kazimoto 
went on. "Time and again natives see 
her on that track which leads to south. 
But this first time she ever made 

"Listen. Kazimoto," Monty said 
quickly, "you tell Lazuma we have 
nothing to do with this. We do not 
bring evil to village, and to prove it 
we go catch lion 

"That won't be an easy job," put- 
in Morgan. 

"It's our only chance of appeasing the 
natives," the youngster rejoined. "And 
to prove we are in good faith, you and 
Barbara had better slay in the village. 
If we all left on the safari, Lazuma 
might conclude we were running away." 

Kazimoto explained Monty's proposal 

Every Tuesday 

to Lazuma, and, after some muttering, 
the chief agreed to give the Europeans 
an opportunity of proving that they 
were true friends. Monty promptly 
organised the party's own black ser- 
vants, and, while preparations for the 
lion-hunt were afoot, Shillov's agent 
Baganda was completely forgotten. In- 
deed, the fellow had disappeared, for 
he had taken advantage of the prevail- 
.citement to make his escape. 
With the safari ready to march, Monty 
• ut along the track that led to the 
youth, Coutlass, Fred and Kazimoto 
walking abreast of him, and the black 
boys bringing up the rear with the 
-.iry equipment. 
At the fii-et likely spot, which was 
lie and a half from the village, 
Monty called a halt and turned to 

" I'm going to have a pit dug," he 
to the interpreter, "and this seems 
- >od a place as any. Tell the boys 
busy with their shovels." 

were soon at work, and, 

ting in the broil' they 

ith their spades at the virgin 

►ill they had made a cavity fully 

feet square, and so deep that no 

feline creature of the jutiL'lf could have 

ped from it once it had fallen into 

the trap. 

The pit was covered with netting, and 

in turn, was concealed by a dense 

pandanus leaves. When the 

ta-k had been completed, all stood back, 

Mont \ surveyed the black 
bandi - 

looks all lii'lit to inc." i . 

" it i- good tra] 
"It that lioness coin' thees way af 
And once dow a I 
get out. I tell you, my 

friend " 

But whatever fresh comment the 
Greek intended to make was never 
ed, for at that moment he was hi- 
nted bj one of the black boys, who 
had wandered a little way along 

" Nyati !" the at med, as he 

back to the safari. 
"What', he saying, Kazimoti I ■ 

" Nyati — buffalo herd." the interpreter 
iied. " Very good meat, bwana." 
'Buffalo?" Coutlass ejaculated, tap- 
ping his rifle. "That ees the gan 
' 'om', mj ii i< i 

lie too plentiful in the 

village of Lazuma, and Monty reflected 

buffalo meat would an 

. .Hied n< i ( •,,n- 

he was all in favour of the 

tion, and the whole party 

ong the Hack. 

The, had not gone far before tin I 

and vegetation became more q 

and presently they descried open . 
nnah in front ol them, a stretch of 
plain dotted with a considerable herd of 

The wind was in the favour of the 

' main 
. to make 

Ihey did their 

"J>mn," Kazimoto advised 


I hi ugh the under- 

growth. Montr ■...<- well in the lead. 
and he crawled on until he fi 
the range. Thin he took u|> bit position 
ole of a stunted tree, and he 
ifting his rifle to his shoulder when 
I once the libilant hi 

■ ad. 

A i • oiled from the bra 

of the tree b h hu h be had paust d, and 

its evil Ik ad at lo- 
op- but not i 
•b< . r • .1 had i tt< n him in the arm. 


Fred jumped forward, and with a 
slashing swing of his rifle-butt he struck 
the snake to the ground, where, with 
the aid of the natives, he quickly beat 
the life out of its sinister body. In the 
meantime, Coutlass and Kazimoto had 
dropped on their knees beside Monty, 
who was groaning with the pain of his 

Kazimoto." Monty jerked, "get the 
first-aid kit!'' 

"No bring first-aid kit, bwana," the 
interpreter panted. "Him back in 

Then go and get it!" Coutlass broke 
in. "Thunder, if you arc not back here 
with it in the shake of a dog's tail, 
Meester Montgomery is finish. It is 
green niamba that has bitten him, you 
understand— a deadly poison snake!" 

"I go!" Kazimoto rejoined, and, 
scrambling to his feet, he made off as 
fast as his legs could cany him. 

The Trap. 

TIIK 1 ffalo hunt was forgotten, and 
the deadiy snake-bito that Monty 
had sustained was the only thing 
that occupied the minds of the safari. 
It was foremost in the mind of Kazi- 
moto. too, as he sped through the 

He reached the spot where the lion- 
pit had been dug. and, skirting the 
trap, raced on to the village. This he 
reached in re, and dashed for a 

hut where the Morgan party had been 

allowed to store then- equipment. 

Kazimoto soon had his hands on the 
medicine i h< st, and he w as i m< 
the hut with it when Barbara 
her fa isted him. 

"What's the matter?" Morgan di- 

d. " What'- happened ?" 
"Bwana Montgomery hurt," Kazimoto 
explained rapidly. "I come for first-aid 
kit. Must hurry back." 

and her father excha 
id -taitled 

" I'm going with you o!" the 

loimi d. 


" No, no," the guide protested. 
" Bwana Montgomery hurt bad, missy. 
Snakebite. Kazimoto must hurry ! Run 
too fast for you I" 

He set off at full speed, but, in her 
concern for Monty, Barbara was deter- 
mined to follow him, and she 
immediately gave chase. 

Her father called to her to come back, 
but she scarcely heard him, and paid 
no heed. He started after her then, 
only to be himself threatened by the 
spears of several of Lazuina's warriors. 

"Back!" they shouted. "There is no 
escape, white man. You are hostage for 
the others !" 

Morgan could not understand their 
language, but he guessed well enough 
what the\ rig, and realised they 

had jumped to the conclusion that he 
was attempting to flee the village. Ami, 
since he could not make himself in- 
ajible to them, it was in vain that 
lie strove to explain In- real intentions. 

Meanwhile, Barbara had disappeared 
into the jungle. She was doing her best 
to keep Kazimoto in sight, but she could 
not equal the pace that he bail set in 
his haste to return to the spot where 

Monty lay at death's door. 

He turned a bend in the trai k and was 
lost to view. I an on, but did 

not sec I: - -lie began to 


"Kazimoto. ,\;iit foi me!" she called. 

There the 

echoes of hor own voice, arid these were 
fading into the stillness of the jungle 
when i -In- h< aid a ' 

behind her. 

Sh.' turned hi i head swiftly, and 
<r thirty i 
she saw a lioness on I that 

same killci which had been prowling in 
the neighbourhood "i Lazuma's \ 

Bai bara ntt< red a hi ick and 

raced on along the pathway, and 
a snarl (he lioness bounded after her— 
with hunger and 

Pressing the point of the red-hot blade into his arm, the guile 
cauterised the deadly snake bite. 

January 7th, 1939. 


for the slaying of the native infant had 
but whetted its appetite. 

With terror in her heart the girl put 
on a desperate spurt, swung round 
another turn in the track, and then 
jumped across a fallen log that lay in 
front of her. 

I She came down on the other side of 
the tree-trunk, but her feet did not 
touch firm ground. They plunged 
i through a carpet of pandanus leaves, 
and with a cry she hurtled into the 
darkness of a deep pit — the trap that 
the blacks had dug in accordance with 
Monty's instructions! 

| She fell heavily, landing at the bottom 
of the earthen pit with a shock that 
knocked the breath out of her body, 
jand as she lay there she looked up and 
saw a small aperture in the camouflaged 
roof of the trap. 

i She had fallen through without dis- 
turbing the net to any extent, and the 
pit was still almost covered. But Bar- 
bara scarcely realised this. In the con- 
fusion of the moment she hardly knew 
where she was, and she was only con- 
scious of the roaring of the lioness as 
it come bounding along the track above. 
r It, too, reached the fallen log and 
leaped it. Next second it was hurtling 
into the snare, and with a tumultuous 
snarling it dropped into the pit. 

A shower of earth and leaves covered 
Barbara as she crouched in the gloom. 
Then she saw a writhing form close 
beside her, hanging in mid-air it seemed. 

The lioness had been caught up in 
the net, which must have become 
hitched in some way at the top of the 
pit. The brute's infuriated roaring as 
it swung to and fro sent thrill after 
thrill of horror through Barbara, and 
with desperate hands she clutched at the 
walls of the trap, but they were sheer, 
and impossible to scale. 

She could see the lioness writhing in 
the net, could see its gleaming fangs as 
it gnawed furiously at the close-knit 
cords. Sooner or later it must struggle 
free and fall to the floor of the pit, and 
when it did it would tear the girl to 

Barbara started to scream, her voice 
mingling with the decp-throatcd snarls 
of the captive brute. 

The Rescuer. 

UNAWARE of Barbara's plight, 
Kazimoto ran on with the first-aid 
kit, and he was not a great way 
from his destination when, coming to a 
fork in the track, he heard a movement 
overhead, and looked up to see the 
mighty figure of Zungu looming large 
amid the branches of a tree. 

Kazimoto pulled up abruptly, and for 
an instant he could only gaze in awe and 
consternation at the monster man of the 
jungle. Then he dropped the medicine 
chest with a yell of terror, and took to 
bis heels as Zungu leapt to the ground. 
Zungu uttered a terrific roar that added 
10 Kazimoto's panic, and the interpreter 
| touched a speed that he had never 
before excelled, or even equalled. But 
the bush giant did not pursue him — 
instead he seized the first-aid kit and 
concent rated his wrath upon it, scatter- 
ing the contents of the medicine chest 
about the pathway. 

| It was while he was engaged in this 
senseless act of destruction that he heard 
distant cries, and his keen cars recog- 
nised the voice as that of the girl whom 
he had saved earlier in the day. An 
immediate change came over his wild, 
half-human face, and he at once set out 
along the path. 

Travelling swiftly, he reached the 
lion-pit a few minutes later, and as he 
looked down into the trap he saw the 
, January 7th, 1033. 


lioness entangled in the net and Barbara 
cowering near by. 

The lioness was snarling horribly, but 
Barbara had ceased to cry out, and 
seemed to be utterly overcome by 
despair, for even as she caught sight of 
Zungu, she sank to her knees with a low 

Zungu laid hold of a long creeper 
tendril that hung from a tree-bough. 
It was coiled upon the ground, and it 
enabled him to swing himself into the 
pit, where he gathered Barbara in one 
powerful, hairy arm. 

The girl had fainted, and she re- 
mained unconscious while Zungu 
climbed out of the trap and laid her 
down by the log over which she had 
jumped a little while before. Nor did 
sho show any signs of life when he 
stooped over her, touched her golden 
hair with one of his great hands and 
then moved away into the thickets. 

In the meantime Kazimoto had 
reached the spot where Monty had en- 
countered the green mamba, and it was 
with dismay that the rest of the party 
heard of the interpreter's brush with 
Zungu. For the injured youngster was 
sinking fast, and with the loss of the 
first-aid kit his only chance of surviving 
Seemed to have vanished. 

"I fear he is done for," growled 
Coutlass. "There is no hope for him — 
none at all." 

"Wait!" exclaimed Kazimoto. "I 
have seen poison burnt out of snake- 
bite. Someone give me dagger." 

Coutlass obliged, and at Kazimoto's 
command the black boys kindled a fire. 
Into the flames of this the interpreter 
plunged the blade, and he only with- 
drew it when it was glowing with heat. 

"It is going to hurt, bwana," he 
murmured, turning to Monty. 

The yougster was in a semi-conscious 
condition, and scarcely heard him. But 
he was roused by the excruciating pain 
of the operation that followed. For, 
pressing the point of the red-hot blade 
into his arm, the guide cauterised the 
deadly snake-bite in the eager hopo that 
the poison would be driven from 
Monty's system. 

Anxious moments ensued, during 
which it remained to be seen whether 
Kazimoto's doctoring would prove effec- 
tive. Then Fred gave an ejaculation of 
relief as he realised that Monty was 
beginning to show signs of reviving. 

"I think it's worked. Kazimoto," Fred 
breathed. "Come on, we'll get him 
back to camp." 

Monty was helped to his feet, and the 
whole party began to make tracks for 
Lazuma's village. En route they came 
to the spot where Kazimoto had fled 
from Zungu, and they were able to 
collect most of the first-aid kit. bandages 
and dressing being applied to the in- 
jured youngster's wound. 

The cauterising of the snake-bite had 
undoubtedly saved his life. The appli- 
cation of a liquid antiseptic from the 
medicine chest helped to hasten his re- 
covery, and, by keeping on the move 
and circulating the blood through his 
veins, he was able to throw off the effects 
of the poison in a short space of time. 

Indeed, he was walking almost un- 
aided when the safari approached the 
vicinity of the lion-pit they had dug, and 
he was one of the first to spy the prone 
figure of Barbara lying beside the log. 

It did not take them long to bring her 
to her senses, although at first she 
seemed unable to realise where she was. 

"Barbara." Fred gasped, "what are 
you doing here? What happened?" 

The girl drew her hand across her 
forehead in a puzzled fashion, and then 
all at once she recalled everything. 

" 1 was following Kazimoto when a 

Every Tuesday 

t lioness chased me," she faltered. "I 

I fell into that pit, and the brute tumbled 

in after me, but got hitched up in the 

net. Listen, you can hear it snarling 

now !" 

She was right, and with an exclama- 
tion Coutlass stepped to the edge of the 
pit, levelled his rifle and drew the 
trigger, putting an end to the beast of 
prey with a bullet fired at point-blank 

"By thunder, Georges Coutlass never 
misses," the Greek declared. "Ho, 
Kazimoto, send a native back to the 
village to tell Chief Lazuma that we 
have despatched the lioness." 

"Yes, do as he says, Kazimoto." 
Monty confirmed. "When Lazuma's 
people see that carcass down there, they 
should be convinced that our presence 
hasn't put any hoodoo on their village." 

Kazimoto spoke a few words to one of 
the black boys, who hurried off at 
once, and, when the messenger had 
gone, Monty turned to Barbara again. 

"You say you fell into the pit," lie 
murmured. "But how did you get out 
again ?" 

"I don't know," Barbara answered. 
"Tho last thing I remember was look- 
ing up to see Zungu glaring down at 
me. He — he must have come down int6 
the pit and rescued me— after I fainted." 

It was but one more instance of the 
monster-man's strange attitude of 
friendliness towards the girl, and Bar- 
bara's companions were still marvelling 
over it when Lazuma and some of his 
warriors appeared on the scene, to- 
gether with Morgan. 

While Barbara's father embraced her 
thankfully, Lazuma and his men 
acclaimed the death of the lioness with 
outlandish cries, and proceeded to 
chant the praises of the white men who 
had trapped and slain the brute. As 
Kazimoto explained, the villagers would 
henceforth be their sworn allies, and it 
was Lazuma's intention to send out 
messages by the signal-drum, advising 
all other tribes who paid homage to him 
to regard the Morgan party as friends. 

"Ha, that is bad' business for 
Shillov," Georges Coutlass announced 
with satisfaction. "With so many 
natives in our favour, we can afford to 
throw down the gauntlet to him in our 
quest for the ivory." 

"You mean we can afford to take 
bigger chances in our quest for Jack 
Morgan," Monty retorted. "But ' it. 
strikes me we've had enough excitement 
for one day, and a spell of rest at the 
village wouldn't come amiss." 

They were soon on the march again. 
but, crowded as the day had been, the 
Morgan party were not destined to 
obtain any respite yet awhile, for, when 
they were still some distance from 
Lazuma's village, Kazimoto suddenly 
held up his hand and called a halt. 

"Fresh tracks," he said, pointing to 
tho surface- of a beaten path that 
crossed the one they had been following. 
"White man's tracks." 

The Europeans crowded about him, 
and sure enough, they saw the imprints 
of boots. The marks had not been 
made by any of their -company, and, 
though one of Shillov's men may havo 
passed this way, Monty dismissed tho 
idea as unlikely, for he judged that 
none of those ruffians would be so 
foolhardy as to travel alono in the 

It was Barbara who voiced the 
thought that occurred to all of them. 

"Maybe — maybe those footprints — are 
Jack's," she said. 

"It's impossible to tell." her father 
muttered, "but it may be as well to 
investigate them. What do you think, 

Every Tuesday 

"I'm all in favour of it." was the 
rep.'y. "Kazimoto, toll Chief Lazuma 
we're going to follow the white man's 
.recks, and a^k him if we can take 
Eome of his warriors." 

The request was granted, and. accom- 
panied by their own bearers and about 
a dozen of Lazuma's righting men. the 
Morgan party turned off along the 
pathway on which they had seen the 
M range footprints. 

They tramped on through the bush, 
had covered a considerable dis- 
tance, when Kazimoto began to show 
signs of uneasin 

We arc in bad country now. 
bwana," he told Monty. "Shillov's en- 
campment not far away.'' 

"So we're running into him again, 
are we?'' Monty said grimly. "That 
i more trouble." 

"Oh, I'm not afraid.'' put in Bar- 
bara. "We've got to keep going, in 
the hope of finding Jock." 

Monty bit his lip. He himself was 
willing to ri^k any hazard, but he ^.a* 
concerned for the girl's safety, and it 
seemed to him that she bad 
through too many perils during the last 
few hours. 

" I don't want to expose you to any 
more danger. Barbara." be told her, 
"but, of course, we want to help you 

find your broi ■ 

"Then we musl go on if there's a 
chanco of finding him," the girl 

"She's right, Monty,'' her father in- 
terposed. "J. for one. won't be able 
to rest until we've wired the meaning 

of these footprint-. " 

"All right." Monty answefed. "Lead 
on, Kazimoto." 

trched on again, and, as they 
filed through the bush, did not know 
•i pair of eyes watched them from 
a clump of undergrowth. Thi \ wire 
the i Jhillov's native emi 



The Caves. 

BORIS SHILLOV was seated with 
Belle Waldron on the veranda of 
his bungalow when Baganda came 
running across the compound. 

Shillov looked inquiringly at the 
native as the latter hurried up to the 

"Well, Baganda,"' he growled, "what 
news ?" 

The black explained all that had 
occurred, and Shillov's brow darkened 
as he learned how the Morgan party 
liad earned the friendship of Lazuma's 

"So they managed to turn my scheme 
to their own advantage, eh?" he 
snarled. ''Or did >t fail because j on 
bungled in some particular?" 

"No, no. master,'' the native cried. 
"I no' make any mistake. Lazuma 
almost drive them out of his village, 
but they promise to oatch Hon that 
kill chief's son." 

"And how do you know they did 
catch it ?" Shillov demanded. 

"I tell you, bwana," Baganda an- 
il. "I escape from village in ex- 
citement, when Lazuma's son carried 
oif by lioness. I make tracks through 
jungle, then get tired and rest. 
Baganda is asleep, master, when foot- 
steps awaken him Then I see .Morgan 
parts, and I follow them for little 
vihili- and bear them talk. They had 
killed lioness." 

"And I suppose they were on their 
back to the village to give Lazuma 
tie glad news, huh?" Shillov ground 

" No. bwana," the native rejoined. 
"They bad made peace with Lazuma. 
and some of Lazuma's warrior* were 
with them. They were not going to 
village. They wire in your territory, 
bwana, not far from here." 

lov scrambled to his feet. II 
eyes were alight with interest. 

"In my territory?" ho ground nit. 
"What were they up to? Where were 
.und for ?" 


"I no' can tell, bwana," Baganda 
answered. "But I see them on march, 
not half a mile from here." 

Belle Waldron laid a hand on 
Shillov's arm. "This is your domain, 
Boris," she declared. "I* is within 
your power to wipe cut the Morgan 
party if you wish." 

Shillov pulled free and began to paco 
back and forth along the veranda of 
the bungalow, but after a minute or 
so he paused in front of Belle. 

"Wipe them out?" he reiterated. 
"No. I have other plans, and they're 
based on what you yourself have told 
me. Before I'm finished with these 
meddlers. I've got to learn all they 
know of Tipoo Tib's ivory. Baganda, 
send Krotsky to me at once. Tell him 
it s important." 

Baganda hurried off, and shortly 
afterwards Shillov's lieutenant pre- 
sented bin. self at the bungalow, where 
trie scoundrelly overlord of the settle- 
ment quickly made the situation clear 
to him. 

"Now listen, Krotsky," he told his 
henchman, "I want you to take some 
men and keep watch on the Morgan 
party. They're on my territory." 

"On your territory, Shillov?" Krotsky 
echoed. "What are they after — the 

"That's what you've got to find out," 
Shillov replied. "Locate them, and fol- 
low them, for the\ may lead us to the 
i reasure." 

"I hope so." Krotsky murmured. "We 
have been seeking it long enough. Have 
no fear, Shillov, I'll locate them all 

Shillov's eyes narrowed. 

"You'd better," he grated. "And 
don't let them out of vour sight — under- 

"1 understand," Krotsky rejoined, and 
made his way across tin,' compound. 

Hi' singled out two other white men, 
and, after repeating Shillov's orders, in- 
structed them to muster a formidable 
company of blacks. This was soon done, 

"Look!" said Krotsky, pointing. "Someone's coming through the brush! 

January 7th, 1833. 


and Shillov watched with approval a^ 
they formed up at the main gateway of 
the stockade. 

Krotsky took his place at the head of 
the band with the other two white men, 
and a start was made, the departing 
expedition marching straight for the 

"Huh," their leader growled, as he 
stepped out briskly with his fellow- 
Europeans, "Montgomery and his friends 
will find travelling none too comfortable 
in Boris Shillov's domain, I can tell 

Once in the heart of the jungle, Krot- 
sky split his detachment up into small 
groups, and each took a different route 
to increase the chances of picking up 
the Morgan party's trail. Krotsky him- 
self trekked south-west with the other 
two white men and about half a dozen 

On through the bush they filed, and, 
after a tramp of about twenty minutes, 
they reached open country — a country as 
barren as the jungle was luxuriant. 

Before them was a range of moun- 
tains, and and rocky, a barrier against 
further progress. Krotsky and his com- 
rades saw no 6ign of their quarry here, 
'and were turning to retrace their steps 
into the jungle when they detected 
movements in the thickets. 

"Look," said Krotsky, pointing, 
"someone's coming through the bush." 

■'They may be some of our own 
crowd," one of the other white men an- 
nounced, "but on the other hand they 
may not. We'd better get under cover, 

Shillov's lieutenant nodded, and they 
took shelter behind some rocks. Nor 
did they conceal themselves any too 
soon, for immediately afterwards the 
Morgan party trooped into full view. 

"The whole gang of them," breathed 
Krotsky. "If only the rest of our mob 
i were here we could rush them and take 
them prisoners." 

"We could send one of the blacks to 
round up our fellows," the third white 
man suggested in an undertone. 

"That's a good idea," Krotsky agreed, 
?nd, beckoning to one of the natives, he 
whispered instructions to the negro. 

Taking advantage of the cover that the 
rocks afforded him, the black made a 
wide detour and worked back into the 
bush. In the meantime, all unaware of 
the presence of foes, Monty and his 
friends were holding a consultation on 
the edge of the thickets. 

"Tracks end here," Kazimoto was say- 
ing as he cast his eyes about him. "No 
see them any more on open ground." 
1 "I wonder which way they turned," 
Fred murmured. "They surely couldn't 
have gone straight up those mountain 

"No," Barbara exclaimed all at once, 
"But they may have gone into that cave 
over there." 

She extended her hand, and, following 
the direction indicated, the others saw a 
black aperture at the base of a lofty 
cliff. Monty was for advancing to in- 
vestigate it at once, but there was an 
anxious muttering amongst the warriors 
who had been lent to him by Chief 
Lazuma, and Kazimoto seemed equally 

"No go near mountain cave.?, 
bwana," lie gasped. "Sometimes lions 
go there, and always evil spirits are 
there. Lazuma's people plenty 'fraid. 
Me 'fraid, too." 

Montj hitched his holster within easier 
reach of his hand. 

"Well, lions and evil spirits are not 
keeping me away, Kazimoto," he an- 
nounced. "If you and Lazuma's Har- 
riot? are scared, you'd better stay where 
you are." 

January 7th, 1933. 


Frightened as he was, Kazimoto was 
too faithful a servant to abide by this 
advice, and it transpired that Lazuma's 
warriors had been ordered by their chief 
to follow the white men wherever they 
chose to lead. Thus none hung back 
when the Europeans proceeded to 
advance, though many a native heart 
beat faster as the party drew nearer to 
the sinister cavern. 

Monty was at the head of the band. 
Fred, Morgan, Coutlass, and Barbara fol- 
lowed closely on his heels. Their eyes 
were fixed on the cave-mouth, and they 
did not know that they themselves were 
under scrutiny — from the rocks where 
Krotsky and his companions had taken 
up their position. 

The Morgan party reached some 
boulders that were strewn about the en- 
trance of the oavern, and as they moved 
between these they heard a low wail, 
which seemed to come from the very 
depths of that dark mountain lair. It 
was a sound that almost sent Kazimoto 
stampeding back towards the jungle with 
Lazuma's warriors and the black bearers, 
but Monty called out peremptorily. 

"Stand still, Kazimoto." he snapped. 
"What the deuce has come over you, 
man ?" 

"Evil spirits, bwana," the guide 
panted. "Listen, I hear them moan. I 
tell you it is bad to go in that place, 

Monty scoffed at his fears. 

"The moaning you hear is nothing but 
the sough of the wind in the tunnel," he 
explained. "Come on now, there's no- 
thing to be afraid of." 

He pushed on to the mouth of the 
cavern, and the remainder of the party 
trooped after him, the natives with 
obvious qualms. Then Coutlass overtook 
Monty and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"One moment, Meester Montgomery," 
he began. 

"What do you want?" Monty de- 
manded with some impatience. 

The man's eyes were gleaming with 

'Should Jack Morgan be here, it may 
mean that the ivory of Tipoo Tib i6 
buried in this cave/' he said. "In that 
case, my friend, I demand ten per cent." 

Monty flung his hand away. 

"If we're lucky enough to find a 
treasure of ivory as well as Jack 
Morgan," he rejoined, "you'll get your 
fair share — no more." 


ON sale: wedin esd/vy. 
price: za. 

Every Tuesday 

He strode on into the semi-darknes» 
of the cave, and the others were moviujj 
after him when Barbara kicked some- 
thing that lay on the rocky floor. The 
object had a slightly metallic ring, and 
as the girl stooped and picked it up she 
gave vent to an ejaculation. 

"Look — the buckle of a belt!" she 

Monty took it from her and examined 
it. It was eaten with rust, but it seemed 
to prove that a white man had been in 
the cave at some time or other. 

"It may have belonged to Jack," 
mused Morgan. 

" Or to some other poor fellow who 
took shelter liere," Fred Oakes broke in. 
" That buckle must have been lying here 
for months, Mr. Morgan, judging by its 
condition " 

"Bwana — Bwana Montgomery !" 

It was the voice of Kazimoto, and, 
as all turned their heads, they saw that 
the guide was indicating footprints in 
the dust — footprints corresponding to 
those which they had seen in the jungle. 

"The belt-buckle may be old." 
breathed Morgan, "but those tracks are 
fresh enough. Come on." 

"Wait, Mr. Morgan," Monty inter- 
posed. "I think you and Barbara had 
better wait here while we go ahead and 

He was anxious to spare them any 
ordeal or shock. In the first place, there 
was no telling what dangers might be 
encountered within the depths of the 
cavern. Secondly, even if Jack Morgan 
were found alive, his mind might be 
unhinged by the perils and privations 
he must have endured 

But neither Barbara nor her father 
would hear of remaining at the cave- 
mouth, and insisted on accompanying 
the rest of the party. Consequently, all 
moved forward into the murky gloom, 
a gloom that rapidly became more 
intense as they left the entrance farther 
behind them, and soon they, could scarce 
see a hand in front of them. 

A sudden roar went echoing through 
the cave, and brought them to an abrupt 
standstill. The wind was not respon- 
sible for it, and Monty thought it 
sounded uncommonly like a lion. 

"What was that?" Barbara gasped. 

" Bad spirits," faltered Kazimoto. 
"We'd better not go farther." 

Monty gripped the butt of his 
revolver, and the touch on the gun 
inspired him with a feeling of confidence. 

"We can't turn back now," he de- 
clared. "We've got to find out what 
this is all about." 

Again he moved on, but had taken 
only a few steps when the roar came 
echoing along the cavern once more. 

"By the twelve apostles!" Coutlass 
muttered. "If that ees evil spirit, it 
mti6t be the ghost of old Tipoo Tib !" 

Even the Europeans in the party were 
now ill-at-ease, and Monty alone pre- 
served that doggednes6 of spirit with 
which they had entered the cave. 

"You folks wait here," he said, and, 
without waiting for a reply, he strode 

He fumbled for some matches as ho 
advanced, and he was preparing to 
strike one when his out-thrust foot failed 
to touch the floor. Next second he was 
plunging into black and empty space, 
and the startled shout that broke from 
his lips was thrown back and forth in 
hollow echoes— between the walls of a 
bottomless pit ! 

(To be continued in another thrilling 
episode next week. Order your copy 
NOW! By permission of Universal 
Pictures, Ltd., starring Tom Tyler, Noah 

Beery, Jun., and Cecelia Parker.) 

Every Tuesday 


T (Continued from page 14.) a 

The boy had heard his arrival, and was 
sitting up in bed. 

"Hallo, what's the matter with you?" 
Jim adopted a severe attitude. "What's 
ail thi3 about fevers and not being well. 
You lie back in bed, young man, and 
let's have a look at that tongue of 

"I've micsed you, Jim," the boy said. 
"I feel ever so much better now. 

"Let's see this tongue," was the - 
answer, " Right out." 

Jim made a thorough examination and 
then turned to the an.v I He 

smiled at her. "Tell me all the symp- 
please ''." 
" 1 sot a new fishing rod, Jim." 
"Danny, little boys should be seen and 
nut heard." His lips twitched as he 
turned again to the girl. "The symp- 
" night he wouldn't eat his din- 
ner," narrated Ruth. "And several 
times be called out in the night, and 
wanted yon. This morning he couldn't 
eat any breakfast and he hasn't touched 
a thing all day. I sent for a doctor and 
that seemed to make him worse." 

anted Dr. Jim!" cried a small 

"And <|iiite light, too," agreed Jim. 
"Tt Rmh ,.>u soma 

and milk, would you eat it?" 
" Yea, p]< 

As Danny consumed the bread and 
milk Ruth knew that there 
little the matter with the boy. A 

. together with a great longii 
aee his hero had caused thi 

on the bed watching the 
man and the ondered 

had misjudged Jim. M the 

had explanations, and to-nigh I 

i caeiori be had nun!' 

Rut lack hor braii 

on for 
joining up with Russo and taking 

It nig for Ruth. 

Danny would insist thai tl ■ 

i h hold a hand until 
v will he line in thl 

percd Jim. " Lei me come an 

: nib." 
h made no a 
\> and 

u here lie' h fai i tor. 

" It i-. obi ions i hat Danny i 

" Yoil m;r, . 

or three tin • k." 

Mill don: 

" Mow c .in I. Jina her sudden 

" You're working for a 
of murdci ing thugs, and you 


A knock at Lha front door interrupted 


Ruth opened the door and two nun 

stood there. I hi - with 

a fainl 

I hu-f wan: 

n burl mortal bad 
i i h ami go whether In- li 

Jim hesitated. All right, I'll < ome .t 
' I ked appealing] I 

look in in the morning, Rut I 
bel ter." 
" Von needn't I 

rning in full foj 
ring I " 



awa y 


Russo Mocks His Victim. 
IM HARPER went back to the Golden 

"Good-evening, Jim," Russo 
greeted him. ""Sorry to call you away." 
There was something in the way the 
crook leader spoke that made Jim look 
up quickly. Why should Russo be grin- 
ning in this sardonic manner. 

"I hear Marty's badly wounded." 
Jim was quite cool. 

"Over on that couch behind the 
screen," Russo answered. "Owing to 
one squealing the cops were wait- 
ing for him." 

'"A squealer?" Jim looked surprised. 

He gueasod that there was dire danger 

around him. It made him all the w 

"I hope Marty knows thi line." 

"Maybe he does and maybe he don't." 

R11--0 took Jim's arm. "But we shall 

hlnr in the end, and it won't be 

nt. " 

"No, I don't suppose it will,' .Tim 

nodded and peered round the screen. 

Almost he fi ted to find a 

"Hullo, Marty looks p 
bad." He was alert and the doctor. 
Ice, hot water and bandages. Jump 
to it." 

"1 — " began Spike, but a 

glance from" Russo stilled the outburst. 
1 " 
Jim Harper made a swift examination 
I gangster. It looked 
ry gory wound, bul is no 

pg. It was mi 
licial than though 1 

1. Jim 
was in ( onsiderable pain 
proba g that dc 

As Jim got out instruments he 1 

calml find out what had 

"What makes you think, 

lex in the 


aded mat 

" v ' ' lot of men lately, Jim." 

rl. " I didn't g. 

mind L , to ( ] w j, 

d Jim 

■Tim," R" In a 

dow 11. 

Jim Mini. 

the ,., .!;,.. 



the l"--i u Q t." 

1 to live, don'l 


Was Jim hint- 
ing an 


■■■ mistake when 

the ■ 

I looked ro 

ly hope 

live '" 


my arm to slip. And " ho paused. 

"Let me tell you something else. This 
is a hospital case. When I'm through 
you've got to get an ambulance here or 
I won't answer for the consequences." 
"You won't answer for the conse- 
quences," growled Spike. "Why, I'd 

','I'ipe down, Spike," cried Russo. 
I've got to think this out." 
Jim glanced at Spike. The crook's 
evil little face was twitching with hatred. 
Spike knew, and he had given Spike's 
description to the police. Spike might 
have been at the station when he went 
there to see the commissioner. Well, 
what did it matter how Russo had found 
out— the evil was done— and it was his 
business to get out of this jam best way 
ho could. 

Swiftly and expertly Jim removed the 

"I've got it out," Jim called. "You 
haven't rung for that ambulance yet, 

" I doi iry." The 

crook mowed in a susp- 

"You aren't pulling something on 
me ?" 

"You talk in s queer way," muttered 
Jim. "Why should T pull anything on 
you? olieving— come 

and have a look at the hole in M, 
thigh and then maybe you'll 
about an ambulance." Russo peered at 
the gory wound. '"I know you don't 
like your men going to hospital, but 
thi- ■ ase is an ie. You've got 

to get him away from here." 
Jim was bluffing I chance of 

eak. On the v. or at 

ii he might 1 li de Unsso's 
vigilance for a mo with 

Man gerously ill it would be 

t<.> itart . 
"I'll call your old station." decided 
Russ nd the arabii- 

per at 

You get on with binding up that 


Russo got the on the 'phone 

■I that the 


I dunno how bad Marty i 


• e do ki iretty 

'a out 

much. In a 

■ will 



1 ; 


\ eh, 1 rr< 

fim 1- a swelj 

" I ain't 

n t-up in 

. Shall I 



hed the doc— 


" '■ ' ' with 

"Take 'em for a ride 

hat if tii. 

drop • on the 1 


7th, L938, 


The new doctor and Jake arrived with 
the ambulance — Spike met them. Half- 
way 141 the stairs two guns tickled their 

"If you two want to live, go quietly 
up the stairs," sneered Spike. "No 
tunny tricks!" 

Russo's methods were swift but speedy. 
lie opened the door of a wash-room. 

"Into that room, and not a squeak 
from either of you."' llusso pushed the 
fat attendant and the frightened, elderly 
doctor into the wash-room. His smile 
was not pleasant as he faced Jim. 
" You will now give Spike a hand with 
the stretcher." 

"Cot a better hospital?" questioned 

"You'd best do as I say!" The mask 
was off. "I might do something funny 
with the trigger of this gun." 

"Anything you say, Kusso." Jim 
shrugged his shoulders. "You seem a 
bit jumpy." 

"I'll make you jump before I'm 
through!" shouted Russo. " Spike was 
arrested to-day, and he was at head- 
quarters when you were there. Ho saw 
you talking with the commissioner. So 
low you know why I'm looking kinda 
jumpy, you dirty double-crosser." 

"'Can't I see the commissioner if I 
want to?" the doctor bluffed. 

"You get Marty on that stretcher," 
"Snarled Russo. "And if he dies then 
you die. Jump to it." 

Spike and Jim lifted the groaning 
Marty on to the stretcher. 

"Take him down to the ambulance," 
was the next order. 

When Marty was stowed away in the 
ambulance Russo came up close to tho 
doctor. His hand was in his pocket, 
and Jim knew there was a gun menac- 
ing him. 

' "'You get to the wheel, Jim," he 
ordered. "And you drive where we tell 
you or '" He did not finish. 

"That suits me." It might have 
worried Russo if he had seen that ex- 
cited gleam -in Jim's eyes. 

The ambulance glided away into the 


• ••*•« 

Jake was a stubborn little fellow, and 
he was enraged at the treatment of the 
doctor and himself. 

"I'm not seared of their guns," he 
cried, and bashed open the wash-room 
door within a few minutes of the de- 
parture of the ambtdanee. His next 
move was the telephone and a police 

Going for a Ride. 
TIM HARPER knew that if he got 
I out into the country there was little 
" chance for him. He drew level 
with a car and would not pass. 

Spike dug the gun into his side. 

"Better get moving, big boy." 


"Says who?"- mocked Jim, and 
stepped on the accelerator. 

The powerful ambulance shot forward. 
Jim swung right across the road, then 
swung back again with a screeching of 
tyres. Spike was flung against the door 
and howled with pain. Russo at the 
back clung to the stretcher for dear 
life. Jim caught up with another car. 

"Want any more?" he demanded ot 
Spike. "You try to use that gun and 
see what comes to you. You've got to 
trust to me. Ask the chief which way." 

Russo eaid round to the left at the 
cross-roads, but Jim turned to the right, 
and shot away at a mad speed. 

"Stop! Stop!" yelled Russo. 

"We're doing seventy, you dirty 
dago!" shouted back Jim. "If you 
shoot me we'll hit a pole or a kefb and 
DC smashed to pulp. I don't mind if you 
don't. Hold tight whilst I give you an 

Jim swung over to the left and 
skimmed past a telegraph-pole with 
inches to spare. The speedometer went 
up to eighty. Tho lights picked up a 
solitary motor-cyclist. 

"This ought a be funny!" yelled Jim 
at tho scared Spike, and skimmed past 
the motor-cyclist so close that the police- 
man in the saddie nearly fell off. The 
policeman gave chase. 

"If you don't stop I'll blow yer brains 
out!" sajestfled Russo, opening a sliding 

"T doubt if you could hit me at this 
speed, 7 ' jeered Jim. " You sign your 
own death warrant if you do. There 
isn't, a chance of any one of us living if 
I charge one of these poles at eighty. 
Use your brains." 

"Cet control of the engine!" Russo 
shrieked at Spike. "Knock him on the 
head and grab the wheel!" 

" Have a try," laughed Jim, and began 
to swing tho speeding car from one side 
of the road to the other. He could not 
have done it with any car, but Jim knew 
that ambulance. 

Russo lost his balance and collapsed 
across the stretcher. Spike let go of his 
gun to hold on to his seat. 

A marvellous skid round a corner 
knocked some more breath out of the 
crooks. Hope leaped to Jim's breast as 
ho heard repeated siren screeches from 
behind. There must be a bunch of 
speed cops on their trail. 

Jim was right. Already the report of 
the stealing of the ambulance had been 
sent out by radio to all the patrol cars. 
One tried to bar their way, but Jim 
swung the wheel over and slithered past. 
The police shot at the tyres, but Jim was 
moving too fast. 

The ambulance whirled down a street. 
Spike was just a streak of screaming 
fear. With siren screeching. Jim swept 
down that street. Round cars and 

Every Tuesday 

trolley-cars he swept, whilst peoplo 
scattered in all directions. 

Russo was staggering about in tho 
back. The crook leader was as yellow 
as his men. He did not want to die. 
This pace was terrifying. It shattered 
what little nerve he possessed, and he 
could picture the appalling smash if JtG 
shot the driver. At this pace it would 
be awful. It was a miracle that the 
car had not smashed already. 

Jim reduced down to sixty and fitly. 
By a circuitous route he was working the 
ambulance towards headquarters. To 
make up for the reduced speed ho 
swirled the car from one side to another, 
slithered past traffic on all sides of the 
road, skated on two wheels round 
corners, and almost made the ambulance 
stand on its nose. 

"By gar, he's making for the prison!" 
screamed Spike, and fumbled for his 

Jim freed one hand and hit the small 
crook a stinging punch in the wind. 
Spike sagged forward and hit his head u 
hard blow against the dashboard. 
That settled Spike. 

Russo got to his feet and swayed back 
to the open panel. 

"I don't care what happens!" he 
screamed. "T don't care if we're all 
killed! I shall shoot if you don't stop!" 

A violent wrench of the wheel and the 
car swung right round with a screeching 
of tyres. Why they didn't burst, Jim 
did .. not know. Russo was flung 
violently against the side of tho 

The lights showed up the prison gates, 
and close to them a wooden structure 
used as a garage. 

"I've gotta stop some time," 
muttered Jim. 

And, with a reckless laugh, drove 
straight into the wooden doors. 

All Jim remembers of subsequent 
events was a crashing, rending sound, 
a smashing blow on the forehead, and 
waking up in hospital. 

Not long was Jim there before Ruth 
and Danny appeared with the 

"My boy, we've got the whole gang," 
cried the commissioner. " And all duo 
to you. The reward you'll get will mean- 
no more work for the rest of your life, 
though I can't see you acting that way." 

"This is all the reward I want." Jim 
pointed to the blushing Ruth and the 
grinning Danny. "I believe I've got a 
fractured leg, but who cares?" 

(By permission of Butcher's Film 
Service, Ltd., starring William Collier, 
Jan., as Doctor Jim, Barbara Kent as 
Ruth, and Raymond Hatton as Spike.) 


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fioysQi n ema 


No. 683. 


JANUARY 14th, 1933. 





of the West 


ON « 

BOY'S CINEMA Every Tuesday 

All letters to the Editor should be addressed to BOY'S CINEMA, Room 163, The Fleetway House, Farringdon Street, London, E.C.4. 

"Come on, Danger!" 

Larry Madden. Tom Keenc; Joan 

lluydon; Rusty, Roscoe 

Ates; Frank Savtoelrson, Robert Ellis; 

William Scon; Piute, Wade 


" Tho Heart Punch." 

Jimmy Milligan (The Cyclone Kiel), 

Lloyd Hughes; Kitty Dovlc, Mai ion 

ng; Lefty Doyje (Texas Wild Cat), 

rge Lewis; Spike Brcadrib, Wheetei 

Oakman; (loklie. Mae Buseh; Carl 

Walter Miller; James Benton, 

on de Main; Wong, James I eong. 

Both Unlucky. 

Ral] - has had much cause to 

i y. He was assigned a much- 
coveted role in a picture entitled "All 
America," when he became ill and had 
rushed to hospital. 

As production of the picture could not 
he held up, his part was given to Richard 
Ailen, who had to dash on to the field 
and tussle with the brawniest, bunch of 
,'ootball players that have yet appeared 
I i foie the camera. 

But in the very first scrimmage Arlen 
suffered a painful injury to his knee. 
Which merely goes to prove that film 
football can be as rough as the real 

Football Heroes. 

Football pictures, that is. those of the 

American game, are very different from 

what they were once. No longer does 

one find hired and somewhat scared 

as dodging respectfully out of the 

path of the great star. 

The football extras are now all beefy - 

ng fellows who know all about the 

simply on the field to 

And woe betide the film star 

igst them who tries to "show off." 

lard Barthelmess was suspected of 

_ this when appearing in a football 

and the eat-'em-alive college 

ack passed the word along to 

his colleagues to "(live the guy the 

The immediate result was that 

Richard came in for special attention. 

after that one scene discreetly left 

of the play-acting to his hired 


hriny Mack Brown, on tho other 

can hold his o*n against any of 

I • ack football 

1C faced the motion- 

amera as an actor. He hap- 

ed to figure ifl a news reel of the 

. and a easting director, impressed 

i y his lool i d him on his acting 

Now he is starring in a football 

id by Paramount. And 

when Johnny suspects that the other 

fellows- 01 i the field look upon him as 

only an actor— well, he just shows them 

what he can do with the ball and I' 

them gaping. 

The Man Who Sold Himself. 

Let this introduce you to Russell 
Hopton, who realised that the best thing 
a man can sell is his own ability. 

January Hth, 1933. 



_ IN 

They made Duke Ellis one of a chain-gang 
of convicts employed, under horrible 
conditions, to construct a new country 
road, and he had contrived, a daring way 
of escape when his young brother arrived, 
one of a fresh batch of prisoners, and 
changed all his plans. An unforgettable 

A brave Westerner's many efforts to save 
bis friend, who had fallen into the hands 
of an outlaw and bis gang. Hair-raising 
thrills and hair-trigger action in a swift- 
moving drama of the great West, starring 
Rex Bell and Neoma Judge. 


The fifth episode oi onr grand serial of 
thrills in Darkest Africa : 

Starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jun., and 
Cecelia Parker. 

It was while staying at a second-rate 
hotel in Omaha, Nebraska, that an actor 
■suggested he should stop selling things 
and sell himself. "Go to New York or 
Hollywood," he said, "and let producers 
see what you can do. Show them your 
abilities. That'll be better ihan hawk- 
ing round stuff." Russell Hopton lost 
no time after this in returning his 
sample case of furniture to the head 
ofhee and setting off for Hollywood. 

There .for two years he worked as 
property man, extra, second assistant 
director, general handyman— anything 
that kept him inside a studio. Then 
he sold himself to a stock company and 
proved he could act on the stage. His 
success before the footlights attracted 
the attention of producers, and with his 
previous film experience, he was soon 
able to command a price. He had made 
a hit at last as a salesman. 

Russell began as a salesman. When 
he left school his people impressed on 
him the advantages of going into the 
selling business, ami as they dealt in 
real estates, he tried the .same line. But 
ho found he could not work up any en- 
thusiasm about a bit of land, and finally 
chucked it for something else. He got 
a job as a salesman with the Universal, 
and for a year peddled this company's 
films from one exhibitor's office to 
another. But the results he obtained 
were poor. Now and again he sold a 
picture, but often he had nothing to 
show for his efforts. It was suggested 
to him (hat he try a different line. 

He turned to furniture. With his 
sample Cases he went from one small 
town to another worrying the life out 
of hotel keepers and hoarding house 
ladies, till he found himself .saying with 

parroi like repetition ■ " Otwd-moniing. 
Would you like to buy any furniture 
to-day?" Sometime! he (hanged firms; 
sometimes the firms changed him! 

Watching Them Eat. 

II (his should make your mouth water, 
don't blame me. Someone in Hollywood 
has been watching the stars, for the 
purpose of finding out what they like 
best and here arc sonic of tho 
" investigations." 

We'll start with Wallace Beery. He 
prefers good, plain food, well cooked 
and without any "fancy trimmings.'' as 
he calls it. Roast beef, heavy, hearty 
vegetables, and no dessert. 

Take away that sissy -looking cake.'' 
he will say. "I don't, want anything 
like that. I was brought up on simple 
food, and I haven't done so bad on it, 

Quiie recently a "Wallace Beery sand- 
wich " was concocted at the Metro- 
Goldwyn-Maycr restaurant. It. con- 
sisted of dainty squares of toast upon 
which rested some peanut, butter, a thin 
slice of chicken, and a dash of tomalo. 
Wally took one look at it, and what he 
said was not at all complimentary ! 

But unlike the "Champ." Jackie 
Cooper has invented a sandwich consist- 
ing of two tenderloin steaks on toast, 
tomato slices fried in butter, French 
fried potatoes, lettuce leaves, and olives. 
And as for eating ice cream — well, 
there's only one thing which would stop 
Jackie, and that's the tummy-ache! 

When the Four Marx Brothers enter 
the restaurant, they do so like nobody 
(he. Sometimes they come in on ail 
fours. At other times they "arrive" 
with a double somersault. Then they 
make straight, for a small table specially 
reserved tot them. But what they like 
best in the way of "eats " has not been 
disi o\ ered ! 

Richard Barthelmess will get up in tho 
middle of the night for a Spanish I 
omelet tc. Joe 10. Brown lias a favourite 
dessert. Ten scoops of vanilla ice-cream 
wuh leu scoops of strawberry, chocolate, 
and pineappple — and, oh. boy — covered 
with chocolate sauce and chopped nuts 
all over it. Doesn't that just make your 
month water? 

(Continued on page 26.) 

Every Tuesday 

On the 


tract of a girl branded as an outlaw, he cleared her name and cornered the real 
by courage and audacity. A thrilling story of Lone Star Law, starring 
Tom Keene and Julie Hayden. 

Fighting Blood. 

THERE was trouble in Pedro's can 
tina at Kl Paso, 'icxa^. and the 
Mexican saloon owner came run- 
ning into the street to accost a stalwart 
fellow of thirty who was passing by. 

"Senor Jeem!" he squealed. Senor 
deem ! " 

"Senor Jeem" was Jim Madden, of 

impany, Texas Etangen itationed 

at the little border town. He looked 

111 a tolerant, good bumo 
fashion, then cocked his head towards 
the cantina, whence s considerable up- 
roar prOl >-• lied. 

" Eet i- your brother — Benor Larry." 

Pedro fried. "He and that beeg bully 

Smith are wrecking my place, and all 

Smith tell Senoi I. any that 

ees all yellow, for they no 

Bght without a gun '" 

Jim Madden frowned. "Darn that 
kid." he muttered. "I wish he'd learn 
to eontrol his temper." 

lie strode into the saloon, arid as be 
ed the bar-room be saw a mob 
imultuous men crowding ahont the 

figure, of two combatants who were 

waging a desperate battle with their 

a tough, hulking customer of 

about .Jim'- age, the other a handsome 

strapping youngster in the early 


In the latter dim recognised his 
brother, al-o of the It anger Service, 
and with an imprecation he elbowed 
l way through the spectators and 

attempted to separate the fighter- ft,,. 
of Smith'- Sympathisers imagined In- 
going to Lan however, 
and promptly cracked an empty bottle 
head, felling him with one 

Jim dropped to the floor, and. seeing 
nl out of the (orner of his eye. 

fentien from Smith 

for an instant, and landed a punch thai 

led his brother's assailant. Then 

whipped round to meet, a ru-h on the 

■ if his own antagonist. 

Smith aimed a terrific swing, hut 

bis fi-t never connected, for Larry 

ducked swiftly and then banged his 

right to the point of the fellow's jaw. 

Bs weru Smith, and. flying through 

tin- swing-doors, finished up in a spi 

eagled attitude m the middle of the 


lie lay there with a foolish expression 
on hi- face. Seizing a pncher of 
water. I.arry hurried out with several 
of the crowd at his heels. He threw 
the contents of the jug over his prostrate 
victim's fate. and. spluttering, the man 
rou-cd himself and struggled to his feet, 
on all right?" Larry inquired. 

"Yeah," Smith panted, yeah — I'm 
all right." 

"Good." said Larry crisply, and 
bed him down again with another 
right to the chin. 

dun Madden carne out of the cantina 
shakily arid look Larry by the arm. 

"Came on, kid." he growled, "let's 
call it a day, and breeze along." 

"Okay, dim," Larry agreed light- 
heartedly, "hut don't bawl me out for 
-' rapping. I hail to change that guy's 
aboul the Hangers." 

Jim handed Pedro enough money to 
cover any damage that had been do in- 
to his cantina. and the two brol 
were moving off when Smith recovered 

and rose wiili an effort. He tottered 

I '. hut not with the int.n- 

of prolonging the fight, for there 
I look of respect in his eyes, and ho 
was nursing his bruised jaw ruefully. 

I I guess I was wrong about 
Rangers, pardner," he said 

"Aw, that's all right, pal," Larry 

declared. "But you wan' a be more care- 
ful what you say. You might vu made 
me i '-ally mad." 

He strolled off with Jim, and the 
two of them were approaching tin- 
Rangers headquarters at the far end 

of the street when they saw two hoi-e- 
men riding from the opposite direction. 
One was Captain Clay, senior officer 
of the company, and the other was a 
member of the detachment. 

Clay dismounted, and. turning over 

his ponj to Ins companion, hailed the 

two broth- 

"I want to talk to you" he told 
them, as the\ came up. "Let's go in 
my office." 

They passed into the captain's 
quarters and. -eating himself at hi> 
desk. Clay eyed the younger of t' ■» 
brothers shrewdly, 

"I've an assignment for you, Larry," 
he announced, "and it's a mission 
that's not only dangerous, but unusual. 

You've heard talk of that Stanton 

gang 'way over in 1'ecos Valley''" 

Larry nodded. " Why, yes," he 
answered. "Jim mentioned that same 
bunch the oilier day. Been cuttin' up 
kinda rough. I understand." 

"Yeah," Clay rejoined, "and I've 

ju-t found out their leader is a worn am 

Sam Dunning, one of the wealthiest 

ranchers in the valley, was found dead 
with a bullet in his back, and pinned 
on his shirt was a printed note that 

read as follows 'An eye for an eye' 

And that note was signed 'Joan 

"Sounds like a feud." .Tim put in. 

granted. "Only two 

outfits seem to he- affected by this 
Stanton gang the one that Was owned 
by Sam Dunning, and the Flying I, 

ranch, owned by Prank Sanderson. 
Right now Sanderson is hidfn' in his 

January 11th, 1!33. 

hacienda for he figures he's the nest 
\ ictim of the Stanton crowd, and he aims 
to stay under cover till the danger 
is over." 

Larry seemed the picture of satisfac- 
tion. "Danger's my meat, chief," he 
stated. "Reckon I could thrive on it." 

"Well, you're not known in Sanger, 
Larry, where the trouble is goin' on," 
Clay said. "That's why I'm givin' you 
this chance but remember — it's your 
first big assignment, and you've got to 
step warily. Now go an' get your 
horse saddled, and stock up with enough 
grub to carry you over a long ride. 
Then report back here for instruc- 

Larry departed in high fettle, and, 
when the door had closed behind him, 
his brother Jim looked at the captain 

"Chief," he muttered, "I don't think 
Larry's the man for this job." 

"Huh?" Clay grunted. "How d'you 
mean, Jim — not experienced enough?" 

"Aw, he's just a kid," Jim protested, 
"open-hearted, generous, chivalrous. He 
doesn't realise this means bringing 
in a woman for murder. If it's all the 
same to you, cap, I'd like to take on 
the assignment." 

Clay thought for a moment, and then 
shrugged his shoulders. 

"AH right, Jim," he said, "but don't 
think you're foolin' me. You're just 
doing this to protect the boy, because 
you think it's a tough proposition. And 
it is, Jim — it is." 

Jim thanked the captain, and, step- 
ping out of the office a few minutes 
later, he encountered Larry as the 
younger man was leading his horse 
from a corral. 

"Well, Jim," Larry declared with 
enthusiasm, "I'm finally get tin* my 
big break." 

Jim shook his head. "I'm afraid 
you'll have to wait a little while for 
that break, kid," he said. "Clay changed 
his mind, and I'm takin' on that as- 

Larry stared at him. There was dis- 
appointment on the youngster's face, 
and the expression was followed by one 
of finger as his quick temper rose. 

"Aw, I see." he ground out. "You 
mean you changed Clay's mind for 
him, because you want this chance to 
make a big name for yourself, huh?" 

"Larry, it isn't that at all," Jim 
argued, but ere ho could say moro the 
younger man struck him across the face. 

Jim Madden recoiled, but did not 
attempt to hit back, and only stood 
i here with a look of reproach in his 
eyes. As for Larry, ho had regretted 
(he blow in the instant of aiming it. 
and without a word he turned and 
moved away, while Jim passed on to 
the corral to seek out his own bronc. 

The Vengeance Trail. 

ABOUT a week later, while a bunch 
of the bovs were rendering the 
chorus of "The Old Chisholm 
Trail," a horse plodded out of the brush 
and moved towards the Ranger head- 
quarters on the edge of the town. 

Larry was one of the first to see it, 
and he recognised it as his brother's. 
Jim was in the saddle, too, but he was 
not upright. He was hanging over it 
limply, his body bound to the creature 
to keep him in position. 

Larry uttered a hoarse cry. and, 
followed by several of his comrades, he 
ran forward and seized the bronc's rein, 
Then he laid a hand on his brother's 
form, and spoke his name with desper- 
ate anxiety. 

"Jim!" he groaned. "Jim!" 

There was no answer, and, lifting his 
brother's head, Larry knew at once that 

January 14th, 1933. 


Jim Madden's lips would never move 
again, for he had been dead many 
hours, and a patch of blood on his 
shirt marked the spot where a bullet 
had drilled him through the back. 

Larry was overwhelmed, especially 
when he recalled the manner in which 
they had parted. Then slowly he took 
a. scrap of paper that was fastened to 
Jim's body, and as he read the message 
on it the grief in his face gave way to 
an expression that was hard and grim. 

A couple of the boys untied the dead 
man and carried him reverently to the 
office of Captain Clay. Larrv followed 
with dragging footsteps, and, in the 
company commander's quarters, he 
looked at the chief haggardly. 

"His horse brought him in, captain," 
lm said, with a catch in his voice. "He'd 
been shot through the back, and I found 
this note on him." 

Clav took the scrap of paper and read 
it. The message ran as follows: 

"This is a sample of what will happen 
to any meddler who comes into the 
Pecos Valley. 

"Joan Stanton." 

"Larry," the captain said bitterly. 
"Jim expected trouble, and ho asked 
me not to let you go. I guess he 
wanted to spare you this — a bullet in 
the back." 

Larry braced himself and looked him 
fairlv between the eyes. 

"I'm going to get the murderer of 
my brother, sir," he ground out. "Tf 
you won't let mo go as a Ranger. I'll 
turn in my badge and make it a private 

Captain Clav laid a hand on his 
shoulder. "All right, boy," he an- 
swered, " but I insist on you taking one 
of the men with you — Rusty. I suggest. 
And good luck to you ..." 

Forty-eight hours later, Larry and 
Rusty drifted into Sanger. Rusty being 
a little comical individual with an in- 
curable stutter. Their badges were in 
their pockets, and the pair of them 
might have been wandering cowboys 
looking for a iob, as they hitched their 
ponies and advanced to the edge of a 
small crowd interested in a notice that 
had been pinned outside the local post 

The bulletin had just been hung up 
by a shifty-looking half-breed whom 
Larry was later to know as Piute, and 
it read thus: 

$5,000 REWARD 

for the Capture of 


Dead or Alive. 

Wanted for the Murder of my friend, 
Sam Dunning. 

Frank Sanderson. 

The man Piute addressed the crowd. 
"Mr. Sanderson is going to make the 
Pecos Valley safe for folks to live in." 
he announced, "no matter what the 

There was a murmur of approval, and 
Rusty nudged a man who was standing 
next to him. 

"Th-this Joan Stanton s-seems to be a 
mighty d-dangcrous woman," ho ob- 

The citizen fidgeted uneasily. "Yeah," 
hn muttered, "an' it ain't safe to shoot 
off your mouth too much about her, 

"You ain't afraid of a w-w-woman, 
are you ?" Rustv scoffed. 

"I am of this woman," was the re- 

Larry was standing a little apart, 
but had been within hearing, and he 

Every Tuesday 

spoke in an undertone as Rusty moved 
across to him. 

"This Stanton skirt sure has 'em 
bluffed in this territory," he murmured. 
" Listen, you keep your eyes open here 
in town, and I'll take a trip over to 
Sanderson's hacienda." 

The two Rangers parted, and, after 
taking a hurried meal at a restaurant 
where a waiter directed him to the 
Sanderson outfit, Larry rode from town 
in the gathering dusk. 

Night descended while he was still 
on the trail, a night of twinkling stars, 
with the air scented by the pungent 
smell of sage and the coyotes howling on 
the prairie. Mile after mile Larry 
covered, humming to himself as his 
horse carried him on at a steady pace, 
and he was beginning to figure that he 
must be fairly near to his destination 
when the bellowing of steers and tho 
high-pitched voices of herdsmen reached 
his cars. 

Larry drew rein, and paused to gaze 
in the direction of the Pecos River, 
where it wound across the rich pastures 
of the Texas cattle country. 

Away to the right he saw scattered 
horsemen, driving about thirty head of 
beeves across the range. 

Knowing that he must be on the 
Sanderson property, it was pretty clear 
to Larry that the cattle belonged to the 
Flying L rancho. Yet these herdsmen 
were not running (he steers in the direc- 
tion of the hacienda, but seemed to be 
anxious to put distance between them- 
selves and that locality. It looked like 
a rustling expedition . . . 

Larry dismounted and dropped his 
horse's reins on tho ground, knowing 
that the animal was too well-trained to 
wander off although it was unhitched. 
Then he moved forward on foot to ob- 
tain a better view of the raiders. 

About a hundred vards ahead was a 
group of trees, standing on tho rim of 
a small gully. Larry stopped by these, 
and prepared to carry on his observa- 
tions from this new vantage point. 

Suddenly there was the scrape of a 
match in the gullv below, and, as it 
flickered. Larry glanced down swiftly 
and saw its glow playing upon the faces 
of a girl and three or four men, all on 
horseback, and all gazing intently in 
the same direction as the young Ranger. 

Only for a moment did the glimmer 
of the match-flame reveal the small 
party of watchers to Larry, for next 
second the girl ordered it to bo extin- 

"No smoking, Tex," she said to the 
man who had struck the light. "We 
don't want to take any chances, and if 
we were spotted here it would spoil 

"I guess you're right, Miss Joan," 
was the answer. 

Larry started as he heard the name. 
"Miss Joan I" Had he actually stumbled 
upon the girl he was out to arrest? He 
was certainly inclined to think so, and 
her next words divulged the fact that 
she and her companions were in league 
with those rustlers down by tho river, 
and were watching them from this place 
of concealment for a reason that was 
best known to themselves. 

" Sanderson's men will find out that 
our boys are running o(f some of their 
cattle." the girl said. "The fireworks 
should start soon, Tex." 

"Yeah," Tex rejoined, "The Flyin* L 
bunch will be shootin' it up a-plenty 
before long. An' the sooner the better 
so far as we're concerned." 

"You an' Tex have sure got the 
brains, Miss Joan," a third voice put 
in. "While the rest of the boys draw 
off the Sanderson outfit with a sham 
cattle raid, we get what we're after, 

Every Tuesday 

huh? Boy, won't Sanderson get a shock 
when we drop in at his place?" 

Larry .stood listening to every word 
wrfth bated breath. 

Frank Sanderson. 

P[UTE, half-breed foreman of the 
Flying L, liad left Sanger a few 
minutes after Larry's departure 
from the town, but had taken a short 
cut by the old Comanche trail, and he 
picked up the main ranch road about a 
quarter of a mile in front of the spot 
where the Ranger had halted. 

Piute was nowhere near the gully, and 
therefore saw no sign of Joan Stanton 
and her companions. But he at once 
detected those of her men who were 
running off the batch of steers, and, 
clapping spurs to the flanks of his horse. 
he rode at top speed for his employer's 

He reached the gateway of the ranch, 
was challenged by a look-out, but, on 
being recognised, galloped through to 
the courtyard and drew up before the 
front door of the house. 

Piute dismounted, his swarthy face 
alight with excitement, and he hurried 
into a spacious hall, then turned sharply 
off info a well-furnished sitting-room. 

Two men were there. One wan Frank 
Sanderson, tall, dark, and good-looking, 
though there was something about his 
face that suggested nithlessness, and 
Bomething in his eyes that seemed to 
convey an expression of cunning. The 
other was a cow hand known as Hill. 

"Hallo, I'iufe!" Sanderson g re et e d his 
balf-breed foreman, as the latter entered 

th<- loom. 'Did yon get that bulletin 
pinned up in Sanger?'' 

•"Sun-, sure," Piute gasped. 'The 
bulletin's up all right. But listen, 

you've got to move fact if you want to 
save about thirty head of your cattle." 

Sanderson started to his feet. 

"Whal do you mean?'' he demanded. 
"Talk plain, man." 

■ Tlie Stanton gang," the half-breed 

panted. " I just saw 'cm as I was 

comin' over the ridge. They're 

btarnpedin' a batch of our steers towards] 


The rancher tame out with an oath, 


then began to volley instructions at his 

"Get the boys together," he ordered. 
"Ride out there and stop 'em. No, 
wait — you stay behind, Piute. Let Jake 
Flynn take the boys, and tell him to 
bring back that Stanton dame if she's 
figurin' in this raid." 

Piute hurried off, and his voice was 
heard in the courtyard. Soon men were 
running from all directions, and, as the 
half-breed passed on Sanderson's com- 
mands, they secured their horses, 
mounted rapidly, and dashed out of the 

Piute made his way back to the room 
where Sanderson and Bill were sitting, 
and there the half-breed received further 

"Close the courtyard gate," Sander- 
son told him. "Stay out in the patio 
yourself and keep an eye on things. 
I'm taking no chances, especially with 
all this money here." 

And he pointed to several bags lying 
on a table, bags stuffed with notes and 

Piute departed again, and, when he 
had gone, the man Bill glanced uneasily 
at the bags on the table. 

"Boss," lie muttered, "there's a for- 
tune in cash there. Wouldn't it be 
safer to take it up to your study and 
get it in the safe ?" 

"Maybe you're right," Sanderson 
d. "Come on, help me carry these 
hags upstairs." 

In the meantime, the men who had 
been despatched from the hacienda 
were swinging across the range, and 
already, in the gully where they 'were 
concealed, Joan Stanton and her com- 
panions had realised that the alarm had 
been given. 

Ill they come. Tex." the girl 
breathed, "and it looks as if they're in 
force all right That will give us a 
better chance to make our play." 

"Let's be movin'," Tea suggested, but 
Joan Stanton laid a hand on his sleeve. 

"W'aii," she said. "We've got to keep 

under cover till those men are well out 
of the way." 

The rustling party down by the river 
were withdrawing from the scene, but, 
with Sanderson's men coming up at 
speed, it looked as if they were in for 
trouble. Joan Stanton and her com- 
panions were not afraid for the safety 
of the sham raiders, however, knowing 
that they would gallop off as soon as 
they were satisfied that they had enticed 
the Flying L cow-hands from the 

Pursuing the rustlers hotly, Sander- 
son's hands thundered past the gully 
where the Stanton girl and her friends 
were waiting. And the moment the way 
was clear these moved from cover. 

"Come on," Joan Stanton breathed, 
and the group clapped heels to the flanks 
of their ponies. 

Larrv Madden was still on the rim of 
the gully, but as he saw the quarry ride 
from their hiding-place he doubled back 
to his bronc, swung himself into the 
saddle, and gathered up the reins. 

"Come on. Flash," he jerked. 
"We're trailin' that bunch." 

He set out in pursuit of the girl's 
party, and saw that they were making 
tracks for Frank Sanderson's home, 
which loomed large in the distance. 

Joan Stanton and her friends reached 
tins, and the fact that, the gate was 
closed against them offered little diffi- 
culty to their project, tor the man Tex 
scaled the wall nimbly. 

He looked down into the Spanish- 
iooking patio of the hacienda. Then- 
was not a sound to be heard except the 
splash of water from a fountain in the 
middle of the courtyard, but. a little to 
the right, Tex saw tiie figure of the halt- 
breed Piute, standing quite close to the 

Joan Stanton's henchman crawled 
slowly and noiselessly along the parapet 
of the wall until he was immediately 
above the guard. Then he threw himself 
downward and dropped clean on to the 
shoulders of Piute. 

The half breed foreman of the Flying 

"Take him inside," she 
ordered, and the men 
lifted the unconscious 
Ranger and bore him 
across the threshold of 
the house. 

January 14th, 19^3, 


L plunged to the flagstones with a 
muffled cry. Tex fell with him, and 
landed uppermost, but Piute managed to 
wriggle clear, and he snatched out a 
Icnife as he scrambled to his feet. 

Tex had risen in the same instant, and 
his six-gun was in his hand. He was 
gripping it by the barrel, and, striking 
aside Piute's arm, he brought down the 
butt of (he forty-five with all his force, 
hitting hard and true for the half- 
breed's temple. 

Piute fell with a hollow groan, and 
Tex turned to give the "okay " to his 
companions on the other side of the wall. 
lie signified that all was well by a low 
call, and they climbed over the parapet. 

Joan was the first to appear, and Tex 
helped her to descend to the courtyard. 
Then, as the others joined them, the 
girl and her henchman led the way across 
the patio and entered the house. 

Moving quietly, they scattered through 
the ground-floor rooms, then collected in 
the hall again. 

"Sanderson ain't here," Tex whis- 
pered. "Must be upstairs, unless he was 
will) his men when they went after our 
rustlin' party.'' 

"Not him," Joan Stanton answered 
scornfully. "He prefers to stick here 
in safety and let others do his dirty work 
for him. Besides, I took a good look 
among those men to make sure. Come 
on, we'll try upstairs." 

They began to ascend to the floor 
above, and were nearing the head of the 
staircase when they heard the murmur 
of voices. Joan instantly cautioned her 
men to make no sound, and pointed to 
the door of a room straight ahead. 

"In there," she breathed. "Get your 
guns ready in case of trouble." 

tier followers were already clutching 
their six-shooters, and they stole after 
her as she made for the room whence 
the voices had come. Standing outside 
the door of that room, the intruders dis- 
tinctly heard the tones of Sanderson. 

"I only wish that Stanton dame was 
right here now," the rancher was say- 
ing. "My mind won't be at rest until 
she's in my hands, Bill, and there's five 
thousand dollars waiting for the man 
who brings her in." 

Joan Stanton stooped and looked 
through the keyhole. She gained a view 
of a study, and perceived the man, Bill, 
scaled by a desk on which the bags of 
money had been laid. Sanderson him- 
self was kneeling before a safe, and was 
spinning the dial of a combination lock 
prior to opening it. 

The girl straightened up, and nodded 
to her men. Tex stepped forward, and, 
gripping the handle of the door, pre- 
pared to fliiyr it open violently. 

Interruption ! 

LARRY MADDEN had tracked the 
Stanton group warily, and. pausing 
at a distance from the wall of the 
Sanderson hacienda, had watched them 
till ihey vanished over the parapet. 

Larry pursed his lips. Did this mean 
that the Stanton gang were about to 
carry out another slaying, and add Frank 
Sanderson to the list of their victims? 
Jt certainly looked like it, and Larry 
determined to take a hand in the affair. 

He moved on to the wall and maneged 
to scale it as the girl and her friends 
had done. Once on the parapet, he 
crouched down and scanned the patio, 
but, satisfied that no one was lurking 
there, he dropped to the flagstones. 

Only then did he catch sight of the 
body of Piute. A brief scrutiny told 
him that the man wa.s only stunned, and 
he went on to the open door of the 

Larry stepped into the hall. He still 
taw no sign of the party he had 

January Htl), 1933. 


shadowed from the gully, but suddenly 
he detected a movement upstairs, and he 
raised his glance to discern the girl and 
her companions as they were in the very 
act of swarming into Sanderson's study. 

Larry heard an exclamation, and it was 
followed by the hurried scraping of a 
chair. Then a man's voice spoke, and 
the tone of it was filled with awe and 

"Joan Stanton!" 

"Sure, Joan Stanton." It was the 
girl's voice replying, and she sounded 
calm and self-assured in comparison with 
the man who had first spoken. "And, as 
you see, Sanderson, I'm not alone, so 
I'd advise you and your underling to 
keep your hands away from your 

"A trick, eh?" Sanderson ground 
out, fear giving place to rage. "You 
drew off my men and worked back to 
the hacienda. I get the idea, but you 
reckoned without Piute. He'll have my 
hands here again in double-quick time." 

"Piute's takin' a rest-cure down in the 
patio," Tex interposed. "It's a stick- 
up, Sanderson, and all the squawkin' 
in the world won't do you any good. 
I've a good mind to plug you, you rat!" 

"Hold on, Tex," came Joan Stanton's 
voice. " Shooting men in cold blood is 
a Sanderson's own copyright, and we're 
not going to imitate him" 

There was a spell of silence, during 
which Larry pondered over the girl's last 
words. Then he heard her speaking 

"You don't seem pleased to see me, 
Sanderson," she observed. "Yet just 
now you were telling your man that 
you'd like me to be here. Well, you've 
got your wish." 

"I'd like to see you and your gang 
at the end of my forty-five," Sanderson 
grated. " I'd like to see every one of 
you swinging from the highest tree in 
the county." 

"That sounds funny, coming from 
you," Joan Stanton mocked. "But 
we're wasting time, Sanderson. This 
talk won't get us anywhere. We're here 
for a purpose, and we're going to carry 
it out." 

"What do you want?" Sanderson de- 

"You know what we want," was tho 
girl's reply. "You sold nine hundred 
head of cattle, and we've come here to 

Down in the hall, Larry resolved to 
approach closer to the actual scene of 
the hold-up, and he climbed the stairs 
quietly. Joan Stanton and her men had 
gone insido the room, and the Ranger 
himself outside the half-open door, peer- 
ing through a crevice between the 

The girl's associates were standing just 
beyond the threshold with drawn guns. 
The girl herself, whom Larry now saw 
to be a blonde of striking loveliness, was 
facing a well-dressed individual of sleek 
appearance — Sanderson, the youngster 

The rancher's hands were in the air, as 
were those of his underling, Bill. Both 
of them looked thoroughly discomfited. 

From his vantage point on the land- 
ing, Larry could not help scrutinising 
Joan Stanton, and the beauty of her face 
seemed to belie her reputation as leader 
of a gang of killers. But her voice had 
sounded hard and cold, and there was 
an expression in her clear, blue eyes that 
told of an indomitable will. 

"Joan Stanton, you can't bluff me," 
Sanderson was saying with an attempt 
at bluster. "Tell your men to put up 
those irons, and get out of my house." 

"You're in no position to dictate, 
Sanderson," the girl retorted. "And 
we're not bluffing. We're here for that 

Every Tuesday 

money, and we're not going without it. 
Get that into your head." 

Sanderson dropped one hand towards 
the bags of money that lay on his desk. 
There was something greedily protective 
in the involuntary gesture, but Joan 
Stanton spoke a swift command to her 

"Get that cash, Tex!" she ordered. 
"Every cent of it!" 

Her lieutenant started forward. San- 
derson tried to interpose himself be- 
tween him and the spoil, and there was 
a sharp scuffle. Then the rancher went 
back again with upraised hands before 
the threat of a gun-muzzle. 

Tex reached for the money. In that 
same moment there was a sound that 
arrested the attention of everyone in 
the room, and raised the hopes of Frank 
Sanderson and his man Bill. 

Larry heard it, too. It was the drum- 
ming of hoofs, and, gliding into another 
room, he looked through the window 
and saw Sanderson's crowd of hands 
drawing up before the courtyard gate. 

They must have realised that any 
attempt at pursuing the rustling party 
was futile, particularly as these had 
quickly abandoned the steers that they 
had appeared to be driving off. San- 
derson's men had therefore returned to 
report to their employer, and it seemed 
as if they had arrived just in time to 
frustrate Joan Stanton's design. 

Larry saw something else— Piute rising 
dazedly and making for the gate to open 

The Ranger slipped out on to the land- 
ing again, and was hardly there when 
the newcomers came hurrying into tho 
hall below. 

The first of them caught sight of 
Larry by the half-open door of San- 
derson's study, and, believing him to 
be one of the Stanton gang, he plucked 
out his 6ix-gun with an oath. 

Larry had to think fast, but his pres- 
ence of mind did not desert him. In 
self-defence he whipped his own forty- 
five from his holster, and with lightning- 
like rapidity he fired at his antagonist's 

His shot hit the man's revolver, and 
spun it clean out of his grasp. A roar 
went up from the man's comrades, and 
they reached for their hips, but, ere 
they could draw, a second bullet from 
Larry's iron had smashed the light in 
the hall. 

There was a stampede in Sanderson's 
study, and then Joan Stanton and her 
companions emerged. Larry saw them 
in the gloom of the landing, and was 
quick to notice that the bags of money 
were in their possession. 

The girl started for the stairs, but on 
the spur of the moment the young 
Ranger sprang forward and intercepted 
her, gripping her by the arm with a sud- 
denness that startled her. 

He had been mistaken for one of her 
men, and it had occurred to him to play 
upon that in the hope of actually tying 
up with her outfit. He wanted to know 
the full facts of this involved affair, and 
here was a chance of obtaining them. 

"Not down that way!" he jerked. 
"Sanderson's men aro in the hall. 
You'll run slap into them if you take the 
staircase !" 

"Who are you?" the girl panted, 
while her companions crowded around 
Larry menacingly. 

"Never mind that now," Larry re- 
joined. "Follow me! There's no time 
for questions!" 

He pushed her into the room next to 
Sanderson's study. Tex and the other 
men followed as the darkness of the 
hall was ripped by vicious gun-flashes. 

Larry led the way across to the win- 

Every Tuesday 

dow, and threw up the sash. One by 
one the party climbed out and shinned 
down to the patio, and the last to 
scramble over the sill was the Ranger. 

Sanderson had run out on to the land- 
ing, and Larry could hear him yelling 
to his men. He sounded half-crazy with 
wrath and chagrin. 

"Don't let 'em get away! The Stan- 
ton girl's got my money! Five thousand 
dollars to the man who brings her in ! 
Quick, out into the courtyard!" 

Larry descended to the patio, and 
found himself face to face with Joan 
Stanton again. Tex and the other men 
had run on to the wall, but the girl 
had hung behind. 

■"If you aren't one of Sanderson's 
men," she gasped to Larry, "what arc 
you doing here ? Where did you sud- 
denly spring from?" 

'Tm after Sanderson on business of 
my own," Larn- rejoined cryptically. 
•'His men spotted me when they came 
in. and they started this rumpus. But 
they're after you right now, and we've 
got to hit the saddle. Come on!" 

They sped across the courtyard side 
by side, and, as they reached the wall, 
saw that Tex and the others were 
already preparing to clamber up to the 

Over at the main gate were Piute and 
a bunch of Sanderson's hands. These 
had stopped there to block the direct 
way of escape while the remainder of 
lerson's employees had entered the 

1'iute and his group opened fire as 

saw the fugitives crossing the wall. 

Tex, Joan and the rest of her followers 

went over safely, and dropped to the 

other side. Larry followed amid a 

liar rain of lead, and saw the 

'on girl and her men preparing to 

climb into their saddles. 

"Thanks for your help, cowboy!" 
Joan sang out to him. "Get to your 
and strike west. You'll be safe i 


enough, for it's us they'll follow, and 
we're heading for the hills!" 

"Hey, wait a minute!" Larry pro- 
tested, and was preparing to leap from 
the parapet when a shot from one of 
Sanderson's men nicked his skull. 

He gave a sharp cry, and then, reel- 
ing, plunged senseless to the ground at 
Joan Stanton's very feet, and with an 
exclamation the girl ordered two of her 
men to pick him up. 

"Say, we can't take him with us," 
Tex objected. 

"We can, and we will," Joan retorted 
emphatically. "Go on, men, lift him on 
to his saddle!" 

"Who is he?" Tex grumbled hoarsely. 

"I don't know." Joan answered, "but 
he risked his life for me, and he's going 
with us!" 

Outlaws' Lair ! 

JOAX STANTON'S party had thrown 
off their pursuers, and there was no 
sign of Sanderson's men on their 
trail when the girl and her companions 
entered the hills. 

They made their way to a remote 
canyon which was admirably suited to 
a hide-out and a stronghold. There 
were a couple of men on guard at the 
mouth of the ravine, and, well within 
the canyon, two dwellings were visible- 
one the outlaw abode of Joan Stanton, 
and the other the bunkhouse of her 

Joan drew rein outside her shack, and, 
dismounting, turned toward- two of her 
companion.- and indicated the limp figure 
of Larry. 

"Take him inside," 6he ordered, and 
men lifted the unconscious Ranger 
and bore him across the threshold of 
the house. 

Joan entered after them, and Larry 
was laid on a couch. The girl proceeded 
to bathe his wound and bandage his 
head when 6he was left alone with him, 
but the youngster was still unconscious 

when Tex presented himself in the 

"Miss Joan," he began awkwardly, 
"I'm here on behalf o' the men. 
They're complainin' about you bringin' 
this stranger into the canyon." 

Larry opened his eyes at that moment, 
but neither Tex nor the girl noticed 
that he had recovered his wits, and he 
had no sooner realised his position than 
he closed his lids again. 

"Tex." Joan Stanton protested. "I 
couldn't leave him there for Sanderson's 
men to slaughter." 

" Well, how about tyin' him in his 
saddle?" her henchman suggested. "His 
horse would take him home, most 

"He might bleed to death." Joan 
argued. " Why, Tex. you wouldn't treat 
a dog like that. He's badly hurt. Now 
listen. When he's fully recovered we'll 
take him out of here — blindfolded, if you 

Tex stared gloomily at the floor. 

"All right." he muttered, "but I 
ain't takin' any chances. I'm goin' to 
set ;i watch an' keep track of him, an' 
the fir^t suspicious move he makes I'll 
plug him." 

He took himself off. and Joan and 
Larry were left alone again. There was 
.! silence for a few minutes, and then 
the youngster uttered a hollow groan 
and gove a fair imitation of a man re- 
gaining consciousness. 

Joan spoke to him sympathetically, 
and Larry could not help marvelling at 
t ne womanly kindness shown by this 
girl who was a notorious leader of out- 
law ?. He was destined to marvel the 
more during the days that ensued, and 
found it increasingly difficult to regard 
her as the one who was reputed to have 
been responsible for so many crimes. 

As for Joan Stanton, she seemed to 
develop a considerable fondness for 
Larry, and, ere a week had elapsed, he 
■rat tempted to put forward a proposal. 

The youngster gripped the handle of the windows and softly drew them an inch or two apart. 

Jauuarj 11th. 1933, 


"You know,*' he said, as thoy 'eat to- 
gether in the room where he had been 
convalescing, "I'm beginning to get 
kinda. restless. I'm the sort o' fellow 
that has to keep movin', and besides — a 
man has got to earn his livin'. I've 
been. enough trouble to you already.' 

" I have a long way to go to repay 
what you did for me that night at San- 
derson's hacienda," she replied. "My 
men and I might have been caught if 
it hadn't been for you. That's what the 
boys don"t seem to realise." 

Larry broached the subject that was 
on his mind. 

" Maybe you could find me a place in 
your outfit," he suggested. 

"I'm afraid not, Larry," she said, 
with a shake of her head. " Stick to 
your cow-punching, if that's what your 
line is. When you're ready to go, we'll 
just say ' Good-bye,' for if you stayed 
here it would mean the law putting a 
price on your head." 

"I wouldn't worry about that," Larry 
told her. " You have a price on yours, 
but you seem to thrive on it." 

Joan laughed mirthlessly. 

"Do you think I'd choose this life?" 
she retorted. "Listen, there's a price 
on my head, but I've only got Sander- 
son to thank for it. His lies have 
branded me with every crime that has 
occurred here." 

"Well, didn't you take Sanderson's 
money that night when I first met you ?" 
Larry reminded her, trying hard to 
exclude any *ign of contempt from his 

" I have the right to take money from 
the man who killed my father, stole our 
rattle, burned our home," the girl said 
bitterly. "Yes, that's what Sanderson 
did to me, Larry." 

" Sure is a big grudge," Larry said 
guardedly, wondering if there were any 
truth in what she was telling him. "I 
leckon that would be enough to turn 
anybody to rustlin', thievin' and 

He was thinking of his brother Jim 
as he spoke, and the last word came 
harshly from his lips, but as he uttered 
it the girl looked at him in horror. 

"Murder?" she exclaimed. "Not 
murder, Larry ! I've taken what belongs 
to me, but I've never countenanced any 
killings ! Larry, surely you can't believe 
that of me?" 

Well, I was only goin' by what I 
heard in Sanger," Larry muttered. 
"There was ^onie mention made of Sam 
Dunning- and a Ranger by the name of 

"More of Sanderson's lies!" the girl 
cried. "You've got. to believe that. 
I'd hate you to think otherwise. Listen. 
Id have gone to the authorities if I'd 
thought there was a chance of clearing 
If, but, after he'd branded mo in 
advance, how could I have hoped to 
nice tlieni? I'm finding it hard to 
nee even you." 
; Was it possible that she was telling the 
truth? Larry was inclined to think so, 
for surely there could be no point in her 
nig her guilt when he had proposed 
joining her gang. He was tempted 
ii to introduce himself as 
tarry Madden, Banger, but, still un- 
certain of his ground, restrained the 
impulse and decided to hold his peace. 
•He strolled out of the shack a little 
later, and, wandering round to a corral, 
>6iiglit. out, his horse, a magnificent 
animal thai had been renowned amongst 
the men of Ranger Company A for its 
6peed, stamina and intelligence. 

" Hallo, there. Flash!" Larry greeted 
January 14th, 1933. 


the bronc. "Say, I wish you could talk 
and let me know what you think o' Joan 
Stanton. I kinda figure there might be 
a lot in what she says, and if that'6 the 
case we're followin' a blind trail. How 
about gettin' outa here and oheckin' up 
on Sanderson, huh ?" 

He had spoken in a half-soliloquising 
tone, and now he proceeded to saddle 
the pony and mount him. Soon he was 
cantering towards the mouth of the 
canyon, which was blind at one end, 
but as he reached the only point from 
which an exit could be made he was 
held up by two men on guard there. 

"You can't get out of here without 
an order from Miss Joan," one of them 

"Oh, that's all right, boys," Larry 
declared. " She's given me the freedom 
of the valley." 

"Well, I know nothin' about it," was 
the rejoinder. " You'd better get back 
to your quarters pronto." 

Larry shrugged helplessly, and 
wheeled towards the interior of the 
canyon again, wondering how he was to 
effect his design. 

Sentence of Death. 

JOAN employed a woman to clean up 
the outfit and cook the meals. She 
was a former servant of her father's, 
and doted on the girl, and it was shortly 
after Joan had left the shack following 
her interview with Larry that the woman 
came through the kitchen to sweep out 
the youngster's room. 

She was thrusting a broom under the 
couch on which Larry had slept when 
she heard a metallic tinkle, and, stoop- 
ing to investigate, she picked up a 

It was Larry's, and must have slipped 
from his pocket while he had been lying 
there convalescent. The servant-woman 
took one look at it, and then, with con- 
sternation on her face, she stumbled out 
of the dwelling. 

Tex was near by, and, calling him 
urgently, she showed him what she had 
found. He stared at it for a moment, 
his brow darkening ominously, then de- 
manded to know where it had come 

" I discovered it under the couch 
where that stranger's bin sleepin'," the 
woman explained. "It's a Ranger's star, 
Tex, and it means " 

"I know what it means all right," 
Tex ground out, and promptly beckoned 
to 6ome of the boys who were standing 
not far away. 

They growled aloud at sight of the 
badge, and were muttering among them- 
selves when Larry was seen approaching 
in Joan'6 company. 

Anxious to escape from the canyon, 
Larry had figured out a plan and had 
asked the girl if she would care to 
take a gallop with him while he exer- 
cised his horse. It was a proposition to 
which Joan had readily agreed, and 
even now sho was making for the shack 
to change into riding-kit. 

Tex and his companions let Joan go 
inside, and then, while Larry waited for 
her, they surrounded the youngster. 

"Here's something you lost," he said, 
presenting the badge. 

Larry started, and had an impulse to 
break away. But he realised that they 
were too many for him, and he stood his 
ground, eyeing Tex calmly. 

"You're not cxpectin' any mercy, are 
you, Ranger?" Joan's henchman rapped 
out. " You came here as a spy, and 
wormed your way into the confidence of 
that girl in there — s-i** 

Every Tuesday 

"Wait a minute," Larry interru] 
"I guess there won't be much use in 
denying what you say, but I'd like to 
ask a favour of you. I'd be some obliged 
if you and these men would keep this 
to yourself." 

"Yeah?" Tex grated. "That's a 
funny kind o' favour, comin' from the 
likes of you. Our quarrel is Miss Joan's 
quarrel, an' it don't concern the law. 
But when a snooper comes in we've gotta 
protect her, and we aim to plug you. 
I've been watchin' points, Ranger, an' 
Miss Joan has got to be mighty fond 
o' you "- 

"That's just what I mean," Larry 
broke in. "I'm not asking for quarter, 
but this thing is gonna upset her 

Tex fingered his chin. 

"Maybe you're right," he growled. 
"She's had a lotta tough breaks in the 
last twelvemonth. Listen, we're ma km' 
a raid to-night on the Sanderson outfit. 
There'll be a shot fired, and it'll look 
like an accident, but it's gonna write 
' finis ' to your career. That's the ex- 
tent o' the favour I'm givin' you, 
Ranger, and bear in mind that you can't 
get out of here without us, for there's 
a coupla men at the end of the canyon. 
Now, take his gun, fellers." 

Larry was disarmed and Tex and bis 
companions drifted off. There was no 
sign of them when Joan emerged from 
the shack. 

"I'm ready, Larry," she said. "Which 
way shall we go ? " 

Larry had been thinking rapidly. He 
was ready to believe what Joan had 
told him earlier in the day, and he 
wanted to assist her in proving her in- 
nocence of the crimes put down to her 
name, but he would never do that if 
the death sentence of her men were 
carried out. 

"Listen, Joan," he said. "You've 
started me thinking. Outside of this 
canyon there's a price on your head for 
murder, but you can clear yourself and 
your men, too, if you'll come away with 
me. I've got friends who have a lot 
of influence, and when they hear your 
story they'll do all they can for you." 

Joan bit her lip dubiously, but Larry 
argued away her misgivings. 

"I want to help you," he kept assur- 
ing her, and at last she nodded slowly, 

"I'll do it, Larry," she murmured, 
"but remember — I'm placing my life and 
the safety of my friends in your hands. 
I think we ought to let Tex know what 
we're going to do, too." 

Such a move would have wn • d 
Larry's plans, and he restrained her. 

"No, let's wait and tell him when 
things are settled," he urged. "Come 
on, we'll get started." 

They mounted their horses and rode to 
the mouth of the canyon, where the two 
guards looked at Larry challengingly. 
Joan made haste to put their minds at 
rest, however. 

"It's all right, boys," she declared, 
"We'll be back shortly." 

She and Larry rode on, but the guards 
were not satisfied. 

"I think Tex ought to know about 
this," one of them muttered. "You go 
back to the bunkhouse and see if you 
can find him." 

The other man hurried off, and within 
a few minutes he located Tex and the 
rest of the boys. 

"Hey, Tex," the guard announced, 
"Miss Joan's gone ridin' with that feller 
Larry. She said everything was okay, 
but we thought we'd let you know." 

Tex ripped out an oath and turned to 
the rest of the men. 

Every Tuesda„ 

"That Ranger's takin' her in," he 
blurted. "Come on, saddle up and get 
after the low-down coyote." 

Tex and his companions were soon 
astride their mounts, and in a body they 
swept towards the mouth of the canyon, 
where Joan's henchman paused to fire 
a question at the remaining guard. 

"Which way did they go?" he 

"South fork," was the reply. '"Why. 
anything wrong. Tex?". 

"Plenty,'' Tex rasped harshly. "The 
man she's with is a Ranger!" 

Next moment he was spurring forward 
with the rest of the band close behind 

In the Hands of Sanderson. 

THE man Piute faced his employer in 
the latter's office. He was a sinis- 
ter-looking half-caste whom Prank 
Sanderson had found useful on many an 

" And j'Oti say you were able to follow 
those tracks in the neighbourhood of 
Eagle Canyon, eh?" Sanderson mut- 
tered. "Well, take a bunch of the men 
and get the low-down on that part of 
the country." 

Piute nodded, and, making his way to 
the courtyard of the hacienda, called to 
a group of cow-hands gathered there. 

"Get on your hones and follow me," 
he ordered, and ere long the men were 
in the saddle. 

Piute led them out through the main 
gateway of the outfit, and they galloped 
- the range in a northerly direc- 
tion. In an hour's time they were close 
to the hills, and they were moving 
through a strip of woodland when, in 
a shallow valley to the right, they saw 
Larry and Joan heading for town. 

"Look," breathed Piute, "the Stan- 

" Hoy, it's a cinch," another of the 
gang declared. "We can rush 'em, 
and we'll be down on 'em afore they 
know what's happenm'." 

"I take no chances," Piute rejoined. 
"Half of you work round behind them. 
The rest turn back with mc We'll head 
them off." 

The troop of horsemen separated, and 
in less than a minute a drumming of 
hoofs in their rear caused Larry and 
to look round, 

's men." Joan gasped, and 
promptly clapped spurs to the flanks of 
her pony. 

Larry did the d on the in 

there alvo of gunfire. Shots 

whistled past the fugitives, but they 

•I on in fl >- i : i lc style for a hundred 

,i bullet Joan's 

The animal crashed to the ground, and 
thrown heavily. I 
promptly drew rein, and, leaping 
the saddle while hoi lead sang around 
him, he Kail" ma. 

\ hurt '.' " lie panted. 

• .k her head, and, lifting hor 
up 01 mounted behind 

her. Nexl hr I 

igain, its stride but slightly 

hair,; Ion. 

■'I of i CO ild not 

tnd I.arrv from capture. how ■ 
for from a neck of the woods Piute and 
idden ' . swept into \ iew . and 
foreground to 

d, hut Si men 

■urn in a trap, and, I out, 

on hi in. 

1 1 rermined hand- seized the rein, of 

R ingei ' - bi one tnd I ■ h m as fore.. I 

\ i gun 


was rammed hard against Larry's ribs. 

" Where do you think you're goin' 
with that girl, friend?" Piute 

Larry's resourcefulness had not 
deserted him, and already the glimmer- 
ings of a plan were in his mind. He 
resolved to play along with these imen 
in order to gain time. 

"You're some of Sanderson's outfit, 
aren't you:'' he said. "From the Fly- 
ing L ':" 

"Sure." Piute admitted. "What's it 
to you ?" 

"Well, this girl's my prisoner." Larry 
declared. "Where's Sanderson?" 

He had set Joan on her feet, and the 
girl was staring at him as if she could 
scarcely believe her ears. As for Piute, 
he was eyeing Larry dubiously. 

"Sanderson's at his hacienda." the 
half-breed said. 

"Then I'll deliver my prisoner to 
him," Larry stated. "I want that 

Piute shrugged. 

"For tho meantime we'll take care of 
her," he observed. "You'd better come 
with us and see the boss." 

Joan was hauled up to Piute'., saddle. 
and, perched there, she looked at Larry 
with withering scorn and indignation. 
She did not know what was going on in 
his mind, and she could only surmise 
that he had gained her confidence with 
intention of selling her 
to the man who was her sworn enemy. 

The band made for tho Sanderson out- 
Ci: with Joan and Larry in their mid,-, 
and they put on a spurt as Tex and his 
men wcro seen topping a ridge away to 
the rear. Tex and his companions did 
not pursue, however, for they were out- 
numbered, and, in any case, it was 
clear the/4 they could never hope to catch 
up with tho captors of their girl loader. 

"Boys," Tex said as he drew rein. 
" it looks as if that Ranger's done his 

work, and he's handin' her over to 
Sanderson for that reward.'" 

We oan't let 'em get away with it." 
one of his companions ground out. 
"We've gotta rescue Miss Joan if we 
all get a dose o' lead-poisonin" in the 
process !' ? 

"Lead-poisonin' is what we would get 
rig-tit now," Tex muttered. "We can't 
overtake that mob afore they reach 
Sanderson's hacienda, and once they 
were inside that courtyard we wouldn't 
stand a ghost of a chance I" 

"Then what can we do?" another of 
the party demanded. 

"Get back to the canyon." was the 
answer. "There's seven or eight more 
men there. We'll round em up, and 
then hit the breeze for the Sanderson 
rancho. We ought to get there after 
dark, and we may be able to stage a 
surprise raid." 

They turned and galloped away, and 
in the (meantime Piute and Irs men 
pushed on to their destination, which 
they reached shortly before dusk. Here 
they dismounted, and Piute and one or 
two of the men prepared 'o escort Joan 
across tho courtyard to the house. 

"You better come, too," Piute told 

"You bet I will." the ranger re- 
joined, swinging himself out of the 
Saddle. "I've got fixe thousand dollars 
to collect." 

They entered the ranch-house and 
climbed to Sanderson's studs. The 
man was sitting at his desk when they 
d tho threshold, and as he looked 
up and saw Joan his narrow exes 
gleamed with malicious exultation. 

"You got her, eh, Piute?" lie said, 
with a leer. 

The half-breed nodded. 

"Picked her up on the road from the 
hills." he said with satisfaction. 

'Hey. wail a minute!" Larry inter- 
rupted in a tone of protest. "If you're 

The rancher fell, and Larry stood swaying over him. 

January nth, 1933. 


Mr. Sanderson, T want to straighten this 
out. I was bringin' in Joan Stanton 
when your men ran across me." 

"Then why did you try to get away 
from us, stranger?" Piute broke in. 

" Well, I thought your crowd was the 
Stanton gang at first," Larry explained. 
"Listen, Sanderson! I've risked any 
life every minute of a week to earn that 
reward you offered, an' I tell you I had 
to use nerve and wits to get the girl 
out of her hide-away. I'm entitled to 
that five thousand dollars, and nobody's 
gonna cheat me out of it!" 

There was an expression of contempt 
and loathing on Joan's pretty face as 
she stood there listening to Larry's state- 
ment, and if two of Sanderson's men 
had not been holding her by the wrists 
she would have struck the young Ranger 
across the oheek. 

As it was, she turned to the owner 
of the Flying L, and spoke to him 

" Sanderson," she said, "I thought 
you were the lowest human I knew. 
But you're ?iot. n ' And as .she uttered 
the words she directed her glance 

towards Larry. 

Sanderson merely smiled at her. His 
lean face, handsome but shifty, ex- 
pressed malicious satisfaction at the cap- 
ture of one who had been a stumbling- 
block to his schemes, and he did not 
care how that capture had been effected. 

"You have done me a great favour, 
my friend," he said, addressing Larry. 
"Rest assured no one is going to cheat 
you out, of your reward. As for you, 
Miss Stanton." he added, with a suave 
intonation that only unasked his vil- 
lainous thoughts, "I welcome you as a 
guest whom I've been expecting for a 
long, long time." 

Joan looked at him defiantly. 

"All right, Sanderson," she cried, 
"turn me over to the law. But I'll tell 
you this much — I'll make a fight for my 
life, and try to convince the jury that 
| you are the killer and the thief in 
these parts. It was you who shot Dun- 
ning—because he found out you were 
running off his cattle, just as you did 
my father's. You faked that note and 
pinned it to his body to incriminate 
mo !" 

"Miss Stanton's mind seems to be a 
little unbalanced," Sanderson drawled. 

"Piute. I think she possibly needs rest, 
so kindly have her shown to our guest- 

Joan was led away, and Sanderson 
; moved towards Larry, who had been 
Tiatohing points closely, in spite of his 
somewhat vacuous air. 

"My friend," the rancher said, "I 
want you to make yourself at home 

"What about that five thousand dol- 
lars?"' Larry murmured, still playing 
the part of a mercenary traitor. 

"I'll give you your money in the 
rooming, "_ Sanderson replied. "Mean- 
time, enjoy tho freedom of the 

"Aw, thanks," Larry answered. "I 

He went out of the room, and when 
he had gone Sanderson beckoned to one 
of his hirelings, who had remained in 
the si tidy with him. 

"Keep an eye on that hoinbre," the 

rancher ordered curtly. "I don't w»nt 

him to go snooping around and find out 

anything that doesn't concern him. 

■ stand?" 

"I get you, boss," the man rejoined, 
and, slipping out of the room, he trailed 
Larry downstairs and out into the patio 
or courtyard. 

January J4t)i, 193S. 


Old Acquaintance. 

DARKNESS had descended over the 
range, and the patio of Sander- 
son's hacienda was a place of 
shadows. Yet it did not take Larry long 
to realise that one of those shadows was 
a human being engaged in the sly busi- 
ness of tracking him. 

Neither by word nor gesture did Larry 
betray the fact that he knew he was 
being watched, but at the same time he 
reflected that he must rid himself of that 
man's unwelcome attentions, otherwise 
he could not hope to pursue his investi- 
gations without arousing suspicion. 

Larry strolled around the courtyard 
casually, made several abortive attempts 
to elude his shadower, and, in the course 
of his movements, saw a lighted window 
that was shielded by bars. Framed in 
that window was the sad and disconso- 
late face of Joan, but, though Larry 
had a clear view of her features, he was 
invisible to her. 

Determined to shake off the man who 
was following him, Larry manoeuvred 
around the patio till he came to a pos- 
tern in the outer wall. He pretended to 
go through this, but dodged swiftly back 
into a dark niche, and had the satisfac- 
tion of seeing Sanderson's hireling pass 
out through the small gateway. 

Larry doubled across the courtyard 
again. He was unlucky, however, for, 
seeing no sign of him outside the wall, 
his tracker turned and re-entered the 
patio in time to discern the Ranger's 
hurrying form. 

The man started after him, but 
Larry's difficulty had been witnessed by 
a comical-looking fellow who was also 
lurking in the courtyard, and this in- 
dividual suddenly came upon Sanderson's 
minion and clubbed him to the ground 
with the butt of a revolver. 

The fellow was none other than 
Rusty, and, gripping his senseless victim 
by the collar, he dragged him past a 
fountain and deposited the sbadower's 
limp body behind a big basket-chair set 
against the wall of the house. Then he 
turned in search of Larry. 

He detected Larry in the act of climb- 
ing to the roof of a kind of lean-to, 
which abutted on to the house and 
offered a means of gaining the top floor 
without entering the hall. 

Rusty did not dare call out for fear 
of attracting attention, but he hastened 
after Larry and started to clamber after 
him. The moment the other Ranger 
began the ascent, however, Larry looked 
down and saw his indistinct figure, and, 
failing to recognise him, he dropped on 
him and bore him to the ground. 

Before Rusty could utter so much as 
a cry, Larry hit him in the jaw, and it 
was only after he had delivered the blow 
that he gained a clear impression of the 
other man's face. 

"Rusty!" he gasped, and proceeded to 
shake some sense into the unfortunate 

Rusty gradually recovered his wits and 
opened his eyes, gazing around him 

"Where am I?" he murmured, and 
then, seeing Larry, he gave vent to a 
low exclamation. 

The youngster pulled him to his feet, 
and Rusty looked at him reproachfully, 
nursing his chin the while. 

"Say, that was n-no way to treat a 
p-p-pal," he 6tuttered. "Just after I 
1-1-laid out the g-guy that was shush- 
shadowin' you, too." 

"I'm sorry, Rusty," Larry told him. 
"Honest, I am. But what's the big 
idea? What are you doin' here?" 

The other Ranger proceeded to ex- 

Every Tuesday 

"Well, y-you see," he said, "after I 
Most track of you, I h-hung around in 
Sanger for a 6pell, and I learned one or 
t-two things that made me sus-susin 
of this fella Sanderson. So I managed 
to get a j-job as extra help in the 
kitchen here, and d-did I hear p-plenty ':"- 

Larry drew him deeper into the 
shadows, and they began to move along 
the wall of the house, Rusty relating 
what he had found out during his st ay 
at the hacienda. He was informing the 
younger man that it was Sanderson who 
had slain Dunning, when Larry, sud- 
denly gripped him by the arm. 

"Quiet!" he whispered. 

The had reached a pair of french 
windows, and, in the room beyond. 
Larry could see Sanderson and his man 
Piute deep in conversation. Again en- 
joining Rusty to make no sound, the 
youngster gripped the handle of the win- 
dows and softly drew them an inch or 
two apart. 

The voices of the men inside were 
audible to the Rangers now, and they 
heard every word that was spoken. 

"Are you goin' to turn her over to 
the law?" Piute was saying. 

"No," Sanderson rejoined, "there's 
just a chance that her story might he 
believed, and I'm not taking that chance. 
I'm getting rid of her my own way.'' 

"You mean you want me to get rid 
of her," Piute growled. "Well, maybe 
I won't do it, Sanderson." 

"Getting chicken-hearted, are you, 
Piute?" the rancher sneered, with a 
menace in his tone. You'd better 
watch your step, or I might serve you 
the same way as I served Dunning." 

Piute had drawn back a pace. 

"That's one man I didn't kilt," he 
panted. "You did that, Sandereo.-,.'' 

"Yes, but don't forget the Ranger 
Madden," was the harsh retort. "It 
was your bullet that finished him, 
Piute, so you've got nothing on me." 

"I got him on your orders," the half- 
breed exclaimed. "You can't deny 

"I might in a court of law." San- 
derson answered. "And if I didn't, it 
wouldn't do you much good. We'd swing 
together. Now listen, Piute, yon do as 
[ say, an' everything will be fine and 
dandy. You're to take the Stanton girl 
across the Border to-night, and you'll 
came back alone. Is that clear?" 

The half-breed looked ill-at-ease. 

"I don't like the idea," he snarled.* 
"I'm sick of doin' the dirty work in 
this outfit. I'm not handlin' it, I tell 

Sanderson clenched his fist threaten- 
ingly, and Piute reached for his gun. 
Even as he tugged it from its hoist er 
his employer gripped him by the ami, 
wrested the weapon from him and then 
thrust him back. 

"None of that," he ground out. "By 
thunder, I'd plug you here and now if 
you weren't too useful to me. Piute. 
All right, I'll take care of this Stanton 
job myself." 

Larry and Rusty retreated from the 
french windows, and the younger of the 
two men spoke in a hoarse whisper. 

"We've got to get Joan Stanton out' 
of here," he breathed. 

"It's gonna be a tough job," Rusty 
muttered. "This place is guarded like 
a foj-tress, Larry, and I was lucky to 
get rid of that shadower o' yours as 
easily as I did." 

Larry stuck out his jaw. 

"We're going to make the attempt, 
anyhow," he declared. "Get the 
(Continued on page 25.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 11 

A punch caused a death, a broken romance and a murder trial— but another punch put 
things right. A stirring melodrama of the prize ring. Starring Lloyd Hughes and 

Marion Shilling. 


Fighter or Pushover ? 

IN one cornet of the -mall Eaat Bide 
gymnasium a fair-skinned youngster 
was punching the ball. A cunning 
of automatic mechanism registered 
rength of the blow. 
The fair-skinned, bright-eyed good- 
ter was punching lightly, 
his perfection of timing and the 
power of those rippling muscles sent 
the leather sphere thwacking against its 
•>rt with the sound of a small 
' \ plosion. 

The fair -skinned young fellow was 

J mmy Milligan, thi Kid. Two 

ago he had become a professional 

boxer, and hi* record was a Rood one. 

He had won the majority of his fights, 

the boxing fans had taken to him, and 

moniker of the Cyclone Kid was 

earned, for Jimmy had fighting 

in his blood. There were better boxers 

Jimmy, but none among the 

ring welter-weights could fight 

harder from the start of the gong until 

finish; none possessed a gn 

of unfaltering courage. 

Spike Broadrih, whose rugged features 

flattened ears were plain evidence 

of many a tough scrap in the ring, 

ied his young charge with the 

It of a satisfied nrnle. Spike had 

Jimmy's manager and trainer for 

the best part of the young boxer's pro- 

r. Spike was an old-time 

list, and under hair was 

Stock of brain-. With a swift 

look around the almost deserted gym 

red : 

" All out, Jimmy !" 

voungster grinned. A moment 

filled with 

'lie' hall era u and 

till tie- wooden support gro 

in protest. A sharp exclamation from 

and Jimmy halted, his liihe body 
poised in the beauty of unconscious 
Qgth. Spike came for- 
ward, and his blue eye- peered at the 
ingenious dial just tinder the toujhly- 
constructed support. 

"That'll do, Jimmy," he whispered 
"You're punchin' hard enough to 
wreck this joint. Top notch. Lay oil 
now and let'.- get outside. I want to 
chinwag with you about the match." 

Fire minutes later boxer and manager 
emerged from the gym. A small crowd 
ed about them, mostly juvenile 
fight fans who, the greater part of them, 
teen Jimmy in action. But Spike 
dispersed these admirers and performed 
the task with the skill he brought to 
most of the jobs he undertook. 

Spike had worries on his mind. He 
had [licked Jimmy Milligan out of the 
DOvice rani;-. J I is shrewd judgment 
told him that the youngster had the 
makings of a real champion, courage, 
id a real love of the game. 
And Spike had no reason to go back on 
that judgment. Jimmy had done well, 

mighty well, but 

Yes, the fact had to be faced that, so 
far, Jimmy was still among the 6inall 
money. The boxing game was going 
through hard times, and only the 
uotcheri were getting big purses. And 
the top-notchera in the welter-wi 

ion showed no anxiety to meet 

ny," murmured the manager, as 
he walked along with his charge, 

makin' inquiries about this Wild 
and I'm a bit afraid he's more of 
Jimmy laughed. In the full pride of 
health and strength 

— outside the ring— Jimmy was always 

ready to laugh, particularly as Spike 
real comedian at times. 

"It's not so funny as you think, 
Jimmy:" blurted Spike. "We've had 
too many pushovers. The fans wai 
see battles. We'll get a good house on 
Friday, but if the Wild Cat curls up 
nun " 

Spike halted, and the laughter died 
from Jimmy's grey eyes. He knew 
what Spike meant. The spec' 
wouldn't pay to see one-sided fights. 
And the good men were. , in- 

tent upon keeping him out of then pie- 
Side Stepping the repeated chal- 
he had Bung at, them through his 
manager and pal — for Spike was a pal. 

"Maybe you've got it wrong. Spike," 
ho ventured. "Perhaps this Texas 
Wild Cat is going to give me the fight 
of my young life — perhaps a good lick 
in the bargain." 

Spike grinned, but there was no real 
ninth in his eyi 

"Let's hope for the best, Jimmy," he 
replied, ''but this guy's record d 
suggest that he'll worry you a lot. 
Seems to me that Promoter Cummings 
has swallowed a few fairy stories about 
tins Texas leather-swinger. You see, 
Texas i- a good way off, and you can't 
'heck up tho things that happen — or 
don't happen — there. The Wild Cat's 
reckoned to have a string of knocl 
to his credit, but. .somehow these krj 
Outs don't figure in the Western records, 
I fear me, Jimmy, that the guys he's 
put to sleep are just a bunch of 
okas or raw 'uns." 

"That's what tho top notchers say 
about me, Spike!" teased Jimmy. 

'"Course they do!" snapped Spike. 
"The feller.- among the money ain't 

HIS to add to their number, Jimmy, 
particularly when the new chum h 
January 1-ltli, I 


dig like yours. You're put some husky 
guys to sleep, Jimmy, and some of 'em 
so quick that they hardly knew they'd 
been in the ring. I don't say these 
fellers were the best in the wide, but 
they were tough, and most of 'em had 
some sort of rep. Lately, Jimmy, I'll 
admit that you've had easy stuff, but 
believe me the big-money fellers know 
a thing or two about you. It ain't your 
fault or mine they don't know more." 

Jimmy sighed. He knew how hard 
Spike had tried to coax Battling Brown 
and Fred Parvine, to mention one or 
two, into the ring with him. At times 
it seemed that Spike had done the trick, 
that the climb into the big money was 
really starting. But, so far, something 
had always happened. It never hap- 
pened to Jimmy, but to the other fellow. 
The newspapers had declared that Jimmy 
was more than entitled to a shot at the 
near champions. Alister Murphy, the 
sports writer, affirmed that Jimmy could 
beat the lot, champion included. 

Jimmy was, let it be clearly under- 
stood, a really modest lad. He knew 
that he could fight, and he had that 
belief in himself without which a 
youngster can do nothing. But he 
thought Alister Murphy was putting 
him too high. Jimmy would have 
danced with joy at the notion of meet- 
ing the world's welter-weight champion; 
he wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over 
the prospect. He would fight to the 
last, but he knew that champions are 
not, as a rule, champions for nothing. 
In the hard game of fisticuffs the cham- 
pionship of any division is only won 
by hard work, hard training and lots of 
skill and grit. 

Spike slapped his young charge on the 
back. It suddenly occurred to him that 
the "depression dope" was not quite 
calculated to put heart into Jimmy for 
Friday's fight. 

"No need to worry, son," he cried 
"After all, this Texas guy may be a 
real wild cat, and the boys will see 
a fight. A humdinger fight would push 
us nearer Easy Money Street. Now 
we'll eat, Jimmy, and forget all about 
champions and pushovers, purses and 

It was so. A leisurely meal, a visit 
to the pictures, a talk with Spike in the 
cheap but efficient boarding-house, a 
chat that had no concern with boxing, 
and shortly after ten the Cyclone Kid 
was tucked up. He slept the sleep of 
the fit, and the knock-out record of the 
Texas fighter he was to meet at the 
Columbia Hall on the Friday, whether 
it was founded on fact or mostly hot-air, 
never impinged on his dreamless 

It would have been the same had he 
been meeting the champion. Jimmy 
knew he was in the pink of condition ; 
he would do his best, and no fellow 
could do more. 

The Wild Cat's Secret. 

JOE CUMMINGS, proprietor of the 
Columbia ■ Hall, wae smiling, and 
smiles were none too plentiful with 
Joe. The place was packed, and Joe's 
slender banking account would be fatter 
on the morrow. The preliminary six- 
rounders had pleased the fans. Now the 
ring was cleared for the fight of the 
evening'. It ought to be good, and Joe 
fervently hoped that it would go the 
full twelve rounds. The Columbia could 
do with that port of advertisement. 

A roar of applause signalled Jimmy's 
appearance in the ring with Spike in 
his corner. Jimmy clasped his hands 
over his head, figuratively shaking hands 
with his clamorous admirers below. He 
looked fit for anything even in the 
swathing of hi* dressing-gown. With 
January 14th, 1833. 


that smile on his attractive features, un- 
marked by ring battles, Jimmy pre- 
sented no sign of the fierce fighter 
which had earned him his title of the 
Cyclone Kid. It was the sound of the 
gong, the flying leather gloves, the 
blows taken and given, that brought out 
the demon in Jimmy. Afterwards, he 
was ju6t good-natured, big-hearted 
Jimmy Milligan again, and, let it be 
said, just a trifle ashamed of the fight- 
ing fury he could not control when the 
ring lamps blazed over him. 

Jimmy 6at in one corner of the ring 
while Spike carefully adjusted his ban- 
dages. His opponent was late, but the 
old ring trick of keeping the other fellow 
waiting — if such was intended — wouldn't 
work with Jimmy. There were no 
" nerves " in his fighting make-up. He 
left the worrying to Cummings, who had 
already disappeared in the direction of 
the dressing-room. 

Meanwhile Spike was quietly giving 
last words of counsel to his young 
charge, for Spike, shrewd ring general, 
realised the futility of bawling advice 
while the fighting was on : a game that 
only nitwit seconds play. 

"The heart punch, Jimmy," he whis- 
pered. " Put it over good and plenty 
when you're planted for a finisher, not 
before. If you find this guy can't hit 
to hurt, stall him for a round or two, 
but make sure he'6 not playing possum." 

The spectators were now showing 
signs of impatience, stamping their feet 
and calling ironically for the absent prin- 
cipal. The Columbia fans didn't like to 
be kept waiting, and, a6 a rule, they 
were not. . 

" Is dis guy walkin' from Texas 1" 
yelled a wag. 

A roar of laughter greeted the wit- 
ticism. Then, a moment later, cheers. 

The Texas Wild Cat was striding to 
the ring, two seconds in his wake. A 
strong, well set-up fellow he looked : his 
face a trifle pale, but hard fighters 
before now — the famous Kid Lewis, for 
example — had been pallid of feature. 
The Wild Cat had the look of a good 
man. The cheers increased in volume 
as the fans settled themselves com- 

The Wild Cat clambered into the ring 
and strode over to where the Cyclone 
Kid was sitting. He extended his hand. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jimmy," 
he said, " but a pal brought me by car, 
and something went wrong with the bus 
outside the city." 

A gasp came from Jimmy's lips. He 
gripped the hand held out to him, 
whispering : 

"Lefty — Lefty Doyle." 

"The same, Jimmy," replied the Wild 
Cat, smiling. " But out in Texas I 
dropped that. The Wild Cat is my 
moniker there." 

He went across to the opposite corner, 
and Spike, puzzled, turned hi6 eyes in- 
quiringly on his young charge. 

"How comes it you know this guy, 
Jimmy ?" he demanded. 

For a moment or two the Cyclone Kid 
did not answer. His grey eyes wore a 
troubled look. His thoughts weut back 
to that chance meeting with Lefty a 
year ago in the Stadium Club, the talk- 
that had followed — a long talk, when 
two young fighters had unburdened their 
hearts in the kinship of "the game." 

"I met Lefty a while back, Spike," he 
whispered. " He told me ho was going 
out West, but I never guessed " 

"Well, it don't matter," interrupted 

He knew that Jimmy's biggest pal 
outside the squared circle was none the 
less due for the best hiding possible in 
the rinjr. 

Every Tuesday 

Jimmy shot a look at his manager, 
but Spike had suddenly darted up to 
shake hands with the referee, now inside 
the ropes. The troubled expression had 
deepened in Jimmy's eyes. Lefty Doyle, 
a promising welter-weight, tipped for 
championship honours at the time of ' 
their first meeting, had given Jimmy 
his confidences. .He had told him why 
he was leaving New York — leaving the 
great metropolis for the open spaces of 
the West. 

"My heart is wonky, Jimmy. I ought 
to quit the fighting game, but it's the 
only trade I know. I'm going out West 
for a rest, and maybe I'll pull round all 
right. Doctor says there's a chanee. " 

Jimmy's brain worked feverishly., 
Lefty had been fighting since then, 
knocked out quite a few. They called 
him now the Texas Wild Cat. They 
didn't call him that for nothing. They 
knew what scrapping was out West. 
Perhaps Lefty was now O.K. Gee, he 
hoped so ! But he'd have to ask. The 
first round would give him his chance. 

Now the preliminaries were almost 
over. Bandages and gloves were fixed. 
The referee called the men together and 
gave them brief instructions. They 
listened, but both knew by heart the 
fundamental rules, and they had been 
long enough at the slugging business 1o 
watch for the illegal things that mean 
warning and possible disqualification. 
They were both "clean" fighters with 
no fouls on their records. 


The gong had sounded. The second* 
scampered from the ring, and the two 
fighters, with a touch of their gloved 
hands, sprang into action. 

Jimmy almost instantly countered a 
left lead from the Wild Cat with a blow 
that just missed Lefty's chin. A yet! 
came from the crowd, for thus early 
Lefty had shown that he could side-etep 
neatly. Jimmy bored in, and the not 
moment the fighters were clinched. It 
was Jimmy's chance — to know. 

"The heart, Lefty?" he whispered, a 
world of questioning in his tones. 

"Bad shape, Jimmy," came the 
answer, "but I've got to fight for the 
dough. I need it — bad." 

The referee sprang forward. 

"Break, I tell you," he yelled com- 
mandingly, prising them apart. 

The boxers broke away in obedience 
and, for the first time in his fighting 
career, Jimmy felt the battle urge ebb 
from his veins. His trusty right, hand 
seemed weighted with lead, unwilling or 
unable to land. 

Long range boxing. Another clinch'. 
The fans were now venting their dis- 
approval. Yells filled the hall, calls to 
Jimmy, strident and raucous, to show 
what he could do. Lefty was .coring 
the points, although Jimmy scarcely felt 
the blows that landed. Lefty couldn't 
hurt him. A good neat boxer was this 
reputed Wild Cat, but those punches had 
no steam behind them. 


The fighters darted to their corners at 
the sound of the bell amid half-hearted 
applause, with a mingling of sounds that 
expressed plainly something other than 
plaudits. Spike, the water bottle to the 
lips of his boy, spoke roughly. 

"What's the game, Jimmy? I've 
never seen you this way. You're puliin' 
your punches and they'll soon tumble 
to that." 

"Lefty Doyle has got a weak heart, 
Spike," answered- Jimmy. "I mustn't 

"Don't fall for that gag, Jimmy," 
broke in the manager fiercely. "Mosi 
likely it's a trap, and you'll know it 
when you've taken a sleep pill to the 

Every Tuesday 

chin. That guy looks strong enough. 
Knock him cold." 

■'Over a year ago he told me about 
it," insisted Jimmy. "He's righting 
just for the dough " 

"And so are you," retorted Spike 
heatedly, "but there'll be little more 
dough for you or me if you don't give 
the boys the stuff. Don't be kidded, 
Jimmy. Go in and fight — the way you've 
always done up to now." 

"Seconds out!" 

The command rang from the time- 
keeper's lips. The gong clanged. The 
fighrens sprang from their corners for the 
second round, and Jimmy Milligan, 
heavy of heart, found himself at that 
moment wishing that he had the driving 
of a motor, even a delivery van, as the 
job that brought him his living. 

For motoring was his hobby — whenever 
he could get to the wheel of a car. 
And the work in front of him was 
something which, somehow, revolted 
robbing his soul of courage and 
his arms of strength. 

The Price oT Victory. 

FIGHT hirn, Kid!" 
"Right-hand again!" 
"You'll get him, Kid!" 
The fans were now aroused. The two 
in the ring were battling and, at 
last, there was something worth watch- 
ing. It was half-way in ttie second round 
and the boxers were swapping blows. A 
11 left hook from the Wild Cat 
caught Jimmy almost on the point of 
the chin. A second later he dropped on whilst the referee, pushing 
Lefty aside, started to count. 

id the babel, Spike groaned to 

"That's it. A bit lower and the fool 
would have been out. That'll teach you, 
Jimmy, to swallow sob stuff." 

At the count of "six " Jimmy rose. 
The blow had dazed him, rind he realised 
now that Lefty could hit to hurt. That 


record of knock-outs was not all hot air. 
The punch, a fraction lower, might have 
put him away for the full count. The 
fighting blood coursed suddenly through 
his veins — for the first time that night. 
He rushed after Lefty whilst the crowd 
howled its approval. 

The Cyclone Kid at last. The Kid out 
to finish" his man. That was what they 
had paid to see. And the Wild Cat guy 
was showing that he packed a punch, 
that he was a dancing master on his 
feet. With the cunning born of natural 
skill and supplemented by ring experi- 
ence longer than Jimmy's, Lefty was 
getting out of danger. His head bobbed 
away and the Kid's vicious right-hand 
swings and hooks missed Lefty's chin. 
They missed by little, but that little 
might just as well have been a mile. 

And Lefty was hitting, too. His left- 
hand was piling up the points. A thin 
trickle of red came from Jimmy's lips. 
The demon was rising in him now. 
He wanted to finish Lefty — finish him 
with a biow to the point of the chin. 
But he was fighting no novice. The 
pale-faced lad in front of him was a 
quick mover, a snappy boxer and mighty 
well he was protecting his chin. 

To Lefty Doyle the call of battle had 
come again. For the moment he hud 
forgotten that, by doctor's orders, he had 
no business in the ring. The clamour of 
the crowd was spurring him to give His 
best. He couldn't beat Jimmy, deep 
down in his soul he doubted if ever he 
could have licked Jimmy; but he could 
show the fans that he was a game 
fighter; that he had put a few to sleep. 


The second round ended with the 
Wild Cat's left in Jimmy's face and 
the Kid's right swinging harmlessly by 
Lefty's ear. It was Lefty's round, for 
Jimmy had not struck a blow that found 
a mark. 

As Jimmy sat in his corner. Spike 
sponged his lip-, and -poke his mind. 


"You're lucky to get another chance, 
Jimmy." he said grimly. "Listen to 
me. This guy is planting you. He's 
clever. Don't try for his chin ; he's all 
ready for that. Kid him along, Jimmy, 
and the moment he's open slip in the 
heart punch. No nonsense, Jimmy. 
We're in this game for a living, and 
you'll spoil your chance of meetin' any 
of the top-notchers if you don't go in 
and fight the way we've planned." 

Jimmy made no answer. There was 
a sickness in his soul, the sense of im- 
pending disaster. But with it all was 
the grim realisation that he must do 
what Spike had said. He was fighting 
for a living and a reputation that might 
take him to somewhere near the top. 
He had done his best to settle Lefty 
with a punch to the point, but he 
realised that his opponent was not going 
out that way. 

The gong clanged again and the 
fighters 6prang forward. Lefty's pale 
face was almost paper white under the 
glowing lights; his eyes seemed to 
signal to Jimmy a message of some sort; 
a message the Cyclone Kid cotdd not 

The fans were ripping the air with 
their cries. Now the battlers had settled 
down to work. No fancy business. The 
thud of leather on flesh; the swift drama 
of blow and counter. The Wild Cat 
was a real good boy. He could move 
like a streak of lightning. Again he had 
dodged a haymaker from Jimmy. Slip- 
ping under the Kid's broken guard and 
punishing the fair body of his opponent 
with vicious short-arm blows. 

Lefty was still piling up the points, but 
his breath was becoming laboured, there 
was now apprehension in his eyes. But 
ells of the crowd supplied something 
that was lacking in hi*, physical make-up 
that night. The strength of despair; 
the courage that overcomes weakness. 

He sprang forward. For a few 
moments the fighters stood toe to toe 

' Not your fault, Jimmy- all mine ! " he faltered. 

' My — my sister, Kitty, just a kid. Look after her. 

Tell her— I— I " 


trading punches whilst the fans yelled 
their heads off. Jimmy's head had been 
rocked back twice. The Kid was in for 
a licking unless 

Then, suddenly, for a fraction of 
time, the yells ceased. It seemed as if 
the almost delirious crowd had uttered 
one concerted gasp. For something had 
happened and with the speed of light. 

A left was shot at the Wild Cat's chin. 
Lefty covered. With the instinct of the 
experienced ring tactician he sensed 
that danger was coming from Jimmy's 
right. As he covered his head flicked 
back, but Jimmy's dexter hand was not 
steering for the Wild Cat's elusive chin. 
Lefty's body was open for a flash of time 
— a flash long enough for Jimmy's 
right hand to crash home on its objec- 
tive. The heart punch which he and 
Spike had worked out together. 

The gasp from the fans changed to 
wild cries ; the sounds of primitive man 
in tho thrall of the victor's triumph. 
For Lefty had gone down like a felled 
steer. The referee was standing over 
his prone body counting off the fateful 
seconds, but Lefty's figure was almost 

"Ten and out!" 

The referee uplifted the winner's arm. 
A second later Jimmy had sprung away 
and, heedless of the frantic cheers that 
rang in his ears, was kneeling by the 
still form on the canvas. 

His fearsome gaze envisaged Lefty's 
deathly pale features. A cry broke 
from his lips. The Wild Cat's seconds 
were kneeling beside him. Spike had 
rushed forward and, suddenly, a hush 
fell on the assembly. 

"A doctor!" gasped the referee. He 
rose, flinging out his arms to the arena, 
his full lips twitching. Then a cry of 
relief came from him. Doctor Webb, a 
regular patron and the Columbia's regu- 
lar medico, was present, hastily clamber- 
ing into the ring. He knelt by Lefty, 
waved everybody back, put his ear down 
to the heart of the motionless man, then 
lifting his head said sharply: 

"Take him gently as you can to the 
dressing-room. Get my bag out of the 
locker !" 

•In a hushed silence, they obeyed the 
doctor's command. No words Were 
spoken as Lefty's body was laid on the 
rubbing table. The doctor's bag, kept 
by for emergencies, had been swiftly 
produced. A powerful restorative was 
forced down Lefty's throat. He opened 
his eyes. 

"Jimmy !" 

It was a gasping whisper that came 
from his lips. The others instinctively 
made way as Jimmy leaned over his 
stricken antagonist, his own strong heart 
thumping in his breast ; a ghastly fear 
consuming him. 

"Not your fault, Jimmy — all mine. 
My — my sister. Kittv. iust a kid. Look 
after her. Tel! her I— I " 

Tho gasping words ceased. A faint 
strangled cry came from the boxer's 
greying lips. He fell back as the doctor 
sprang forward again . . . 

Lefty Doyle's weak but courageous 
heart had answered the call of the Final 
Timekeeper with its last beat on this 

Spike Gets a Shock. 

THREE weeks had passed. Jimmy 
Milligan was seated alone in his 
room — the small apartment which 
served as his home. The laughter which 
hail always seemed to gleam in those 
attractive dark grey eyes — save in tho 
heart of conflct — was there no longer. 
His broad shoulders were bent listlessly. 
He was writing a note at the shabby 
table in the corner when the sound of 
footsteps ascending tho stairs fell on 
January 11th. 


his ears. Hastily he rose, thrusting the 
note swiftly into the one narrow drawer 
of the table. 

A few moments later the door opened, 
and he faced his manager and pal. 
Spike Broadrib smiled although the 
smile was that of a man forcing himself 
to an assumption of cheerfulness. 

" You see, everything has turned out 
all right, Jimmy. You heard the judge 
say this morning that no blame attached 
to you. Poor Lefty had no business to 
be in the ring. And so, Jimmy, you're 
free and you've gotta just forget " 

"That's the trouble, Spike," broke in 
Jimmy gravely. " I reckon it's going to 
take me a long time to forget. I know 
that the court has acquitted me of blame. 
•But, Spike, Lefty told me when we got 
in the ring " 

"Don't let's go over that again, 
Jimmy," interrupted Spiko earnestly. 
"You can fix the blame on me. You 
acted under my orders. Jimmy, old 
son, you're a fighter by trade. What's 
happened to you is just a stroke of bad 
luck : something that only comes, any- 
way, once in a fellow's lifetime. The 
doctor said that poor Lefty couldn't 
have lasted long. Perhaps his was the 
best way out." 

"His sister, the kid sister he spoke 
about," said Jimmy. "Lefty's last 
words — I'll never forget them " 

" She's gone," burst forth Spike. 
"And you know, Jimmy, I've done my 
best to find her. She's nearly eighteen 
— old enough to earn her own living. 
Not exactly a kid. I'll own that Lefty's 
death must have been a shock to her, 
a big shock. But she's gone and what 
can we do ? After all, maybe she's got 

"I'd like to find her," answered 
Jimmy doggedly. "I'd like to try to do 
something " 

"We'll find her yet," broke in Spike 
optimistically. But, meanwhile, 

Jimmy, we've got to carry on. It's no 
use worrying over this affair, Jimmy. 
And I've got a piece of good news for 
you. I reckon I'll be able to fix Parkyn. 
Jimmy, that's a real climb up. And I 
believo I can get the affair staged at 

"I— I don't think I'll fight again, 
Spike. I'm through with the boxing 

Spike almost glared at his young 
charge as Jimmy jerked out these words. 
The sight of the lad's grave features 
flamed something inside the manager's 
breast. Spiko had been through a 
worrying time and his nerves were 
jagged. For the moment his liking for 
Jimmy was swamped by other emotions. 

"Quit being a fool, Jimmv," ho cried 
angrily. "I've been makin' allowances 
for your feelings. They're natural in a 
sense, but you're carrying them too far. 
You've got the shapin' of a champion. 
Jimmy, and at last, here's a chance of 
fighting a guy who's real metal. At the 
Garden too, most likely— — •" 

"Because I've killed a man," cried 
Jimmy bitterly, "these fans hope that 
I'll kill another. Spike, I tell you " 

"Rot!" burst forth Spike explosively. 
" You know as well as I do that a death 
in the ring is almost as rare as snow 
in Hollywood, a darned sight rarer. 
You talk of quitting the game, Jimmy. 
How are you goin' to earn a living ? 
Not easy when you've once put on the 
gloves for keeps. You talk, too, of 
tryin' to help Lefty's sister once we 
can find her. You'll want money for 
that. Listen, Jimmy. We'll have a 
spot of grub to-night and go to a show 
afterwards. ■ You want takin' out of this 
state. You've got the rats — and I can 
show you that you're lookin' at things 
tho wrong way. I'll be back for you 

Every Tuesday 

this evening, Jimmy. I'm due to see 
Parkyn's manager." 

Spike's angry tones had dropped to 
softer accents. He laid his hand gently 
on Jimmy's shoulder, then walked 
briskly to tho door. He did not doubt 
that he would be able to make Jimmy 
see things right. Spike knew his powers 
of persuasion. 

There was nothing hard-hearted about 
Jimmy's manager. Time after time 
Spike had helped a busted or needy pug, 
even when, as of late, money had been 
hard to get. But Spike was no stranger 
to the stern realities of. life. He had 
fought his own way through, from seller 
of newspapers on the street corner to 
manager of boxers. He had known ups 
and down — with the "downs" often 
uppermost. And Spike saw no seii^<- in 
the ruin of a young boxer's promising 
career for the sake of silly sentiment. 
Poor Lefty was dead, and witii only 
himself to blame for his death. There 
was no reason why Jimmy should quit 
fighting just when he and his young 
charge had a chance of seeing real 

Spike went off to his interview with 
Parkyn's manager. Tho two cute men 
talked and argued for over two hours. 
But, at !a6t, Spike departed with tin- 
contract ready for Jimmy's signature, a 
contract to fight a top-notcher: the first 
real step on the ladder to fame and 

Spike, oozing excitement, hastened 
back to the boarding-house. A few 
minutes later he was reading the letter 
Jimmy had left for him: 

"I'm ever so sorry, Spike, but I'm 
leaving New York. I shall try to earn 
a living somehow, but not in the ring. 
I feel I couldn't put on the gloves again. 
Forgive me, Spike, but I guess you will 

Thus ran the end of the message. 
And Spike, angry at first, gradually 
came to a realisation of the lad's 
poignant feelings. He tore up the letter, 
a suspicion of mistiness in his eyes. At. 
that moment ho forgot his own 
chances: he could only think of tin 
of Jimmy, his young pal. 

A Fight for a Job. 

IT is a long way from New York in 
Los Angeles, even for tne fcra 
who goes by the fast \Y 
Express and to whom expense is no 
object. It was a longer way for Jimmy 
Milligan, becauso his total wealth 
amounted to a trifle over fifty dollars. 
Both he and Spike had been up against 
lean times of late, and, although a 
thrifty lad, this was all he had b 
to save. 

By good fortune — and persistent appli- 
cation — he had been able likewise *■> 
" work his passage " over the gr- 
part of tho journey, selling oewspapt . -. 
candy and periodicals on the train. 1 - - 
it came about that he landed in the sun- 
shine city late one afternoon with most 
of the money he had taken with him. 

That night Jimmy slept in a cheap 
lodging-house, with the determination 
to be up early and hunt for a job. Ho 
had a neat suit, and he would have to 
spend some of his jealously hoarded ca*h 
in new linen. Jimmy took a pride in 
his personal appearance, not from vanity, 
but realising that jobs don't go to tho 
seedy-looking fellow. 

The morning found him drinking in 
the life and movement of the town. The 
sun wa6 shining, everyone seemed happy 
and busy. Far away from the scene of 
the tragedy that had wrecked his- boxing 
career, Jimmy took new heart. Just 

Every Tuesday 

then he almost forgot Spike, his former 
nanager and pal. It had given him a 
wrench to leave Spike, but there wa6 no 
other way. He had to carve out a new 
career — somehow — and he had gone far 
afield to do it. Here the Cyclone Kid 
would never be recognised — at least, 
such was his fervent hope. 

A few hours later, although the sun 
was shining more brilliantly than ever, 
Jimmy had lost some of his optimism. 
He had discovered that jobs were hard 
to secure in the surshine city, particu- 
larly when the job-seeker had nothing 
much more to offer than two strong 
arms and a willingness to work. For 
over a year he had been a professional 
boxer, but the glove game was closed. 
He knew a little about automobiles, but 
his steady canvass during the morning 
showed him that he would be required 
to know a lot more to earn a living 

The early afternoon found him on the 
outskirts of the town. A broad road, at 
the moment deserted save for an occa- 
sional swift passing car, led to Holly- 
wood — the famed film city. Jimmy, 
whose lunch had been a couple of 
oranges, sighed as his mind conjured up 
the wealth and luxury that lay in the 
shadow of the Beverley Hills. 

The luxury of one sigh was all Jimmy 
allowed himself. He was looking for 
work, and, being a lad of real grit, be 
meant to hunt for it, and not wait for it 
to come to him. His ring experience 
had shown him that a fellow must take 
knocks to "get there." Someone lived 
somewhere in Los Angeles who would 
give him a chance. 

His eager eyes caught sight of a pic- 
turesque gaiage and filling-station in the 
bay of the road. He advanced rapidly 
towards it and, a few moments later, con- 
fronted a surly-looking, burly fellow in 
shirt-sleeves who had emerged suddenly 
from the rear of the nearest pump. 
Btere Bindle, the man in question, 
scanned Jimmy's good-looking features 
with obvious hostility. Steve, whose face 
was "ornamented" by three con- 



spicuous warts, did not like young 
and when they were good-lookii _ 
loathed them. 

"What d'ye want?" he demanded. 

"I am looking for a job," replied 
Jimmy civilly. "Any sort of job that 

He got no farther. Steve advanced 
towards him, his dirty hands clenched 

"There's no job here," he barked. " I 
know your 6ort. You don't wanter work 
— you wanter loaf and look pretty. Take 
your hook, or I'll hand you a basting 
that will put you in the repair shop." 

A flush mounted to Jimmy's checks. 
He was the last to seek a quarrel, but 
this unprovoked insult aroused his ire. 
He forgot for the moment that he wa6 
out of the glove game. 

"Don't you dare to call me a loafer," 
he said hotly. " You dirty-looking bully, 
you deserve a tanning " 

Something like a roar sounded from 
Steve Bindle's lips. This was almost too 
good to be true. He, the best scrapper 
for a mile around, to be sauced by a kid 
— for that's how Jimmy looked to Steve. 
Xot a soul about. A chance in a million. 
A chance to knock a few teeth down the 
throat of the dressed-up young guy. 

"You asked for it," he howled. "You 
fairly asked for it. And you're goin' to 
cop it — yes, you're goin' to cop it from 
these dirty 'and6." 

Steve rushed forward. He meant to 
enjoy himself. A vicious braggart, he 
intended to make a mess of Jimmy's 
good-looking features, and particularly 
I those white, even teeth. Feinting with 
his left, he swung over his right. It 
should have caught Jimmy a rocker on 
the car, but here Steve got his first sur- 
prise. His blow struck the warm Cali- 
fornian air, and nothing more. Jimmy 
sprang back lightly. He was, in truth, 
wondering whether it would be bwt 
policy to run away. Steve was two 
stones heavier at least, strong as a bull. 
but against a professional fighter of the 
I I lone Kid be had .1- much 


chance as a rabbit "battling " with a 

Another moment and Jimmy Milli- 
gan's career might have been shaped 
very differently. But Steve Bindle, 
bubbling with fury, sealed his own fate 
and put Jimmy's notion to flight. He 
hurled a foul epithet at the young an- 
tagonist who had so easily eluded him. 
The obscene insult put the flame to 
Jimmy's fighting spirit. His eyes were 
suddenly dark and menacing. 

Of all this Bindle saw nothing. He 
rushed forward again, both aims v 
ing furiously, "telegraphing-'' their in- 
tentions. Then, swiftly, Bindle halted, 
a gurgling groan coming from his 
His clenched lists darted to his chin in 
self-protection. Something had hit him 
there and with such power that Bindle 
was seeing stars in broad daylight, con- 
scious that his knees were wobbling. 

Jimmy uncorked his right. He lot 
Steve have it in the pit of the ston 
and the garage hand, making a noise 
like escaping gas, dropped limply to the 
ground, his eyes glazing and his lungs 
gasping for breath. 

"Well, if that ain't about the neatest 
bit of work I've seen!"' 

Jimmy had turned to holt in en- 
this time. As the words, rapturously 
spoken, fell on his startled ears, he 
jerked his head back to note a red-f. 
jolly-looking man, whose features wore 
a broad grin, lie sped to Jimmy's side 
and gripped him by the hand. 

"I saw it," he chortled. "Boy, you 
can sure fight ! You've given that 1 
dub something to remember. V 
of work I've seen. Who are you?" 

"My — my name is Jimmy Glovi 
stammered the lad. "I asked li 

there was a job going here " 

"I heard you," hroke in the jolly- 
faced man. " I came out to see it ail. 
Wait a second, young Clover." 

He strode over to the sitting lip . 
Steve, who, mouth wide open, was 
ing back his breath. lie hauled the 
garage hand to his faltering feet. 
"Go to the office and get your 

Clamour broke forth anew from the crowd as the referee raised the left arm of the Cyclone Kid in token 

of victory. 

January 11: 


Bindle," lie cried. "And if you put 
your face near this place again, young 
(J lover will be set loose on you." 

Bindle, still gasping, staggered away 
to the rear in the attitude of a half- 
clasped pocket-knife. The jolly-faced 
man placed a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. 

"I ought to have sacked him before," 
he said, " but I've been away fixing up 
a bit of business. Say, young Glover, 
do you really want a job? A guy like 
you ought to do well in the ring. You're 
no ord'ry boxer " 

"I want a job," interrupted Jimmy 
hastily. "I know a bit about cars, and 
I'm willing to learn. I — I'd loathe the 
notion of making a living by boxing, 
Mr. " 

"Mr. Farmer, proprietor of the Star 
Garage and filling station," volunteered 
the other. "We're a fairly new concern, 
but we're makin' our way slowly. You 
can have Bindle's job, young Glover. 
I was goin' to fire him, anyway. But 1 
can't pay you his wages to start with. 
You see, Bindle was a pretty fair me- 
chanic " 

"You pay me what you think is 
right, Mr. Farmer," interrupted Jimmy 
joyously. "I'd like to start right away. 
And, believe me, Mr. Farmer, I'll learn 
all I can. I'll make myself useful " 

"Come into the office, young Glover," 
broke in the proprietor brusquely. "I 
like the look of you, and I guess I'll 
hire you for a month on trial. But you 
ought to be -fightin' for a living, my 
lad. Seems to me you've got it all — 
and I saw a few scraps when I was work- 
ing in little old New York. However, 
if you think that you won't get bored 
filling up and messing about with oil 
and grease, I'm willin' to give you a 
show, and I'll tell young Curtis to teach 
you all he can about a motor's innards. 
He's a nice lad — you'll get on with him." 

At half-past three that afternoon 
Jimmy Glover was entered on the pay- 
roll of the Star Garage. He had 
secured a job the first day of setting his 
feet in the sunshine city. And his 
abounding joy, strangely enough, was 
chastened by the thought that he owed 
this job to the work he had learned in 
the ring. 

Joy and Despair. 

CART, ZENIAS, proprietor of the 
Sun-ray Cafe, Los Angeles, scowled 
as he faced the pretty, dark-haired 
girl who was emerging from the cash- 

" So you won't let me take you to the 
dance. "Kitty," he growled. "I guess 
you don't know what's good for you. I 
could " 

"I've got another engagement, Mr. 
Zenias," interrupted Kitty Doyle 
firmly. "And I hardly think your wife 
would approve of your taking me or any 
other girl to a dance." 

Zenias let loose an expletive from his 
thick, sensual lips. This allusion to his 
jealous wife was the last straw. The 
fleshy-faced Greek was alone in the cafe 
with the pretty young cashier, for the 
Sunray Cafe was closing. He darted 
towards the girl, but, a moment later 
halted, cursing inwardly. A somewhat 
.-tout blonde had entered by the street 
door, and the spectacle of Mrs. Zenias 
was a welcome sight to Kitty. In a 
Few moments she was outside the cafe, 
breathing the warm night air. Then a 
glad cry came from her throat as a 
good-looking young man darted across 
to her. He clasped her hands and gazed 
into her eyes. 

"Kitty,"" he said swiftly, "you're look- 
ing scared. "What's happened?" Then 
In- grey eyes flushed ominously. "I can 
guess," he continued fiercely. "That 

January nth, i»33. 


dirty dog. Zenias, has been worrying you 

again. "I'll put him right " 

She clutched his arm with all the 
force of her slender fingers, murmuring, 
"No, Jimmy. Please don't. Let's go. 
I can't afford to lose my job. And I 
can keep Zenias in his place." 

He yielded unwillingly, and they 
hastened away — Jimmy Glover, chief 
assistant at the Star Garage, and Kitty 
Doyle, cashier at the Sunray Cafe. 

The strange workings of fate had 
thrown them together. Jimmy Glover, 
once known as the Cyclone Kid, was now 
holding down successfully another job. 
He was making good, and the chance 
had miraculously come to him of wiping 
out that bitter memory — a chance of 
helping Lefty's sister and bringing hap- 
piness to both. 

In one short month they had grown 
to care for one another. Since then they 
had met most evenings. And now the 
words which had often been on Jimmy's 
lips would no longer be controlled. 

"I want to have the right to protect 
you, Kitty," he said. "I'm getting on 
in my job. In a few montlis the boss is 
going to put me in charge of the new 
station he's fixing on the Boulevard. 
Kitty, I love you." 

"And I — I love you, Jimmy," she 
answered simply. "I've loved you, I 

guess, from the first " 

He kissed her, joy singing in his 
heart, and by lovers' good fortune found 
an obscure corner for their first embrace. 
Then gaily he cried : 

"Now we're engaged. Kitty, and if 
that dirty-faced Greek worries you 
again, you'll just walk out. We'll get 

married then right away •" 

"Not quite so soon, Jimmie," she 
broke in tenderly. "I must keep my 
job for a bit until you are better oft. 
But I shan't worry about Zenias now." 
"You won't," retorted Jimmy. 
"Listen, Kitty. I've got the loan of 
a car to-night from the boss. I won't 
say- it's a Rolls-Royce. As a matter of 
fact it's just an old roadster, but it will 
do its stuff. Will you just walk with 
me to the garage and we'll take a 
trip over to Hollywood." 

"How lovely, Jimmy," cried Kitty. 
"It's a wonderful night for a drive— 
and with you it will be more wonder- 

Arm in arm they made their way to 
the garage. Before leaving, Jimmy 
had parked the old roadster just out- 
side in readiness for the joyous trip. 
The Star Garage was closed for business, 
but, to Jimmy's annoyance, a car drew 
up suddenly with a hoot. 

"Some fellow wants gas, Kitty," 
grumbled Jimmy. "I'd better serve 
him. Won't take a minute." 

Kitty retired behind the car feel- 
ing that her presence was not business- 
like. Jimmy whipped off his coat. He 
started forward but, a second later a 
figure had sprung from the waiting 
car, a well-remembered voice shouted : 
"Anyone there. I'm out of gas, I — 
Jimmy !" 

Jimmy and his ex-manager con- 
fronted one another. And before the 
young fellow could utter another word 
Spike had grabbed his hand frantically. 
"Jimmy Milligan, the Cyclone Kid, 
working as a garage oil rag. Jimmy, 
old son, I've been lookin' for you every- 
where. I've touched luck. Got Parkyn 
and Willie Blane boxin' for me now. 
Jimmy, I can set you up. You must 
have got over that Lefty Doyle busi- 
ness by now. Say " 

Spike halted and Jimmy Milligan 
staggered back with a groan. For Kitty 
was facing him, her eyes blazing. 

Every Tuesday 

"So you're Jimmy Milligan, the 
Cyclone Kid. You're the man who 
killed my brother. And you have dared 
to — to come here under a false name, 
to make love to me. I hate you — you 
are a murderer." 

She rushed away into the night and 
Jimmy Milligan, knocked out as though 
by a blow, stood motionless, Spike's 
contrite words falling heedlessly on his 

Then he raced after her — vainly. 

" Murder ! " 

IT was closing time at the Sunray 
Cale, where late diners received 
little encouragement, and Zenias 
whispered to 'i'oinelli, his chief waiter: 

"Tell Miss Doyle to bring the day's 
cash into my private room. And doiit 
let Goldie come into the cafe." 

Tomelli grinned and mumbled his 
obedience. Goldie, the name given to 
the cafe proprietor's jealous wife, had 
been rather troublesome lately. Kitty 
received the message with an inward 
shiver. Yet she knew herself helpless. 
The terrible discovery of a week back, 
the knowledge that Jimmy was the 
boxer whose blow had killed her brother, 
had almost stunned her. She had re- 
fused to see Jimmy — she was alone once 

She collected the money, placed it in 
a small attache case, for the greater 
part was in bills, then walked towards 
the private office door at the back ot 
the restaurant. It was a room that 
had witnessed many "flirtations " of 
Zenias and Kitty, as she crossed the 
threshold and faced her black-browed 
boss, felt that she might be soon look- 
ing for another job. Zenias closed the 
door, smiled upon her with his most 
killing smile, murmuring. 

"Put the money on the table, Kitty. 
We'll count it together. We've had a 
good day. By the way, Kitty I haven't 
seen that Glover guy round lately. Given 
him the air?" 

" We — we don't meet now. Mr. 
Zenias," replied Kitty, unable to re- 
strain a choke in her voice. 

"That's good, Kitty." The Greek's 
voice was caressing as he came nearer. 
"Kitty, you're far too pretty and sweet 
for a garage hand, a guy with with oily 
dirty hands. You've done right. Kitty, 
you'll be kind to me won't you?" 

Suddenly fired by near presence to 
her, Zenias clasped the girl in his arms. 
A cry came from her lips but the Greek, 
sensing her terror, cried savagely: 

"Stop that or I'll treat you rough, 
Kitty. I've been wanting a kiss from 
those lovely lips and I mean to have 

He gripped her tighter but desper- 
ation lent her strength, and with a 
violent effort she tore herself free from 
that sickening embrace and flew to the 
door. With a gasp of relief she reached 
the outer passage, racing to the exit. 
A few moments later her lithe speeding 
figure collided with a plump body. Two 
arms gripped her fiercely and Goldie's 
voice, hissing with rage and pent-up 
jealousy cried : 

"So it's you. Just as I thought. I 
hid myself to watch " 

"Let me go," screamed Kitty hysteric- 
ally. "Your husband has been insult- 
ing me." 

She tore herself free from the clutch- 
ing arms and raced on. But the exit 
was guarded by the lank sinister figure- 
of Tomelli who stayed her progress. 

As she wrestled with him, crying for 
help, the plump wife of the philander- 
ing proprietor, rushed to the private 
room, her jealousy again aflame. She 
threw open the door and the spectacle 
that met her eyes brought a piercing 

Every Tuesday 

scream from her lips. Prone on the 
floor was the body of Zenias, a quiver- 
ing hand clutching at his heart, the life 
blood staining his podgy fingers. 

•' She — she shot me — for the money." 

The gasping words came from him 
as Goldie knelt by his side, jealousy 
swallowed up in the tragedy that had 
descended like a bolt from the blue 

She staggered to her feet and rushed 
down the passage : 

"Murder !" 

Her screams falling on Tomelli's 
astonished ears, caused him to release 
Kitty and fly back in the direction 
of the private room. But half-way he 
met the panting figure of Goldie. 

"That girl — she has killed him," 
screamed the woman. "He is dying 
fast. That girl " 

Tomelli raced back. But as he 
reached the door a crush of strong 
shoulders had sent it flying open. Jimmy 
Milligan was clasping the almost faint- 
ing form of Kitty. Tomelli gave them 
only a glance. A moment later he was 
in the street yelling for the police. 

Jimmy, who had come to the cafe 
in a last hope of explaining matters to 
the girl he loved, found himself, a 
second later, confronting the angry wife 
of Zenias who would have flown at the 
'.'irl in her rage. Tin' sudden entrance 
of a breathless policeman gave Jimmy 
a chance of rebuffing the plump fury. 
A crowd surged on the officer's heels and 
among the intruders was Bob Curtis, 
Jimmy's working churn at the garage. 

"Look after Kitty, Boh.'' he cried. 
"They're accusing her of killing Zenias. 
The idiots. They're mad " 

Leaving Kitty in his pal's charge he 
darted down the pemege. If Zenias 
was dying or dead he had done much 
to deserve his fate. That Kitty na, 
guilty of the killing, Jimmy knew to bo 
wildly improbable. Kitty, even driven 
to desperation by the black bo 

It's foul attentions, would be in- 
capable of that. 

At the extreme end of I -<•■ lay 

the kitchen of the cafe. It Was 111 dark- 
btrt Jimmy groped around for the 
light-switch and found it. As the room 
htm illumined by a centre-bead lamp a 
sound fell upon Jimmy - 
that came from the far corner. He 

■ I to the place, his he 
ahrt. Before him was a stack of half- 
empty -aeks, and behind these a fair- 
tized cupboard. 

Jimmy strode over the sack* and 
grabbed the cupboard knob. There was 
a momentary resistance, and then the 
door flew open. 

In less tragic circumstances Jimmy 
would base laughed outright si the spet 

suddenly confronting him. In the 

I up! -red the figure of the 

Chinese cook, his almond Byes alight, 

with terror. Once or twice in the course 

■ J bit visits to the Sunray Jimmy had 

Wong, the cook, leaving the 

' at night, hut never had he 

11 to him. 

Pierce); he hauled the Chink out of 

his hiding-place, Singing questions at 

Inn. Hut Wong -hook haven 


Mo ipik Englee b. Wong no ipik." 

lb- clutched the Chink's arm and 

irds the door. Wong 

making no resistance. A policeman, 

followed by a sergeant, suddenly made 
• sppearani 

"I foi tinaman biding in the 

tied Jim d the 

.nt interrupted. 

is ha* just, died," he said 
lb- declares tin- girl. I 
Duyfe, shot him. We've te gun 


—with the latest silencer. If the Chink 
was hiding we'll take him, but " 

"'Zenias is a liar — even in death!" 
cried Jimmy. "He pursued Kitty — tried 
to trap her. She would never kill— not 
even that — that " ;> | 

"Better get a good lawyer for her," 
broke in the sergeant, thrusting back a 
crowd at his heels. "The money has 
gone, and she was the last with Zenias. 
And a guy ought to know who's shot 
him. No reason why he should lie 
about it when he's passin' out. If 
you're the girl's sweetie you'd better 
try to hire Benton. Now come along, 
Chink. What you got to say ?" 

Wong shook his head. 

"No follow," he murmured. "Wong 

flightened. Go lookee place " He 

shook his head again as though he had 
exhausted his English. 

Half an hour later Kitty Doyle was in 
the cells, charged with the murder of 
Carl Zenias, on the accusation of the 
man when dying. 

The Only Way. 

FOUR days later Jimmy sat in the 
private office of James Benton, the 
well-known criminal lawyer. It 
was his second visit, and he hung breath- 
lessly on the attorney's words. 

"I've gone into the matter, Milligan,'" 
said Benton gravely, "and the facts are 
rather strong against Miss Doyle. She 
was last alone with Zenias, and the 
fellow directly accused her. The money 
is missing, and the police hold the 
theory that it was passed out of the 
small side window to a confederate. 
Tomelli swears he heard a dull report, 
and the next moment Miss Doyle ri 
down the passage " 

"I believe Tomelli is lying, Mr. 
Benton:" interrupted Jimmy hotly. 

"And Wong, the Chinaman " 

1 hey've released him," broke in 
Benton swiftly. "No evidence. He 
pretends to have no knowledge of 
English, but I got an interview with 
him this morning " — Benton paused im- 
pressively— " and he managed to find 
enough English to convey to me that 
he might say something useful to you 
and Mi.-s Doyle if the money for his 
fare back to China could be forthcom- 
ing. His dream is to go back to the 
land of his ancestors. He may be 
bluffing, Milligan, but I suspect he 
knows something. And now we've got 
u> eome down to brass tanks. Is it 
passible for you, Milligan, to raise 
• -. ? Enough for Wong and enough 
for me to undertake Miss I >■ 
fence? I've got every sympathy for 
her. but, Milligan, I can't do any nioie 
without cash. What about it?" 

Jimmy ga/.ed upon Benton's somewhat 
grim features. His heart sank, and ye! 
M might have expected this. Benton 
had already done work for which Jimmy 
could only pay in the future. 

"Think it over, Milligan, ' said 
Benton, something like sympathy in but 
keen grey eyes. "I guess I could 
Wong's statement out of him 
for three hundred dollars. If you call 
raise I thousand dollars, Milligan, some- 
how, I'll take charge of the defence and 
work at Wong. But don't delay. I — 
I'll keep that Chink warm for the 
pr esent , anyway." 

Jimmy left the office, his brain in a 
turmoil. One thousand dollars! His 
whole wealth consisted of less than a 
hundred, lie raced off to his employer 
and impetuously pleaded for the loan. 

"A thousand dollars, Jimmy!" cried 
the latter. "Might as well ask me for 
a million, lad. I've put all I've got and 
more into the new filling station." 

Jimmy felt that his boss was spcak- 


;ng the truth. A thousand dollars was 
a lot of money— to fellows like himself. 
But if this thousand could be got some- 
how, there was a chance for Kitty. 
Benton had a big reputation; it was 
even hinted that he had judges "in his 
pocket." If only it was 

At this moment Jimmy's working 
chum came into the small back room 
that served as office. 

"A guy outside askin' for you, 
Jimmy," he said. 

Jimmy went out, wondering. A few 
seconds later he was facing Spike, whom 
he had not seen since that fateful meet- 
ing before the tragedy. Spike, on the 
trail of a boxing hope to add to his 
stable, had come to give the hand of 
friendship. He had read the news of 
Kitty Doyle's arrest, and the whilom 
manager was at this moment just a 
pal. He gripped the hand of his former 

"Tough luck, Jimmy," he 6aid. "If 
there's anything I can do " 

A sudden inspiration came to Jimmy 
Milligan as he gazed into Spike's 
sympathetic eyes. A possible way out 
of the great problem facing him. 

"Yes, there's something you might 
do, Spike," he broke in eagerly. "1 
want to raise a thousand dollars to 
retain Benton for Kitty's defence and 
for buying some information that may 
make all the difference. You talked 
about me coming back to the ring, 
Spike. Could you stage a fight that 
would hung me a thousand bucks?" 

Spike gasped. He had never expected 
this. For a few moments his agi'e 
brain worked swiftly. 

"A thousand dollars, Jimmy!" 
cried. "That's more than you CI 
expect by a long way after your lay off. 
But there's a possible way. I can fix 
you with Bruiser Barnes, and I i 
that the fight would draw all Hollywood 
when it get- known that you're the 
Cyclone Kid. Bruiser's banker has 
offered to bet five hundred dollars on 
his man. If I thought, Jimmy, that 
you'd go into this -crap in dead eaj 
I'd raise five hundred " 

"Do it, Spike!" broke in Jimmy 
.. "I shall fight to win. I v. 
■ ai down. Spike!" 

"I don't doubt your courage, Jimmy 
said the manager gravely, "but 1' 
frank with you. You're not in the top 
notch of condition like Barnes, 
know what happens when a boxer c 
fighting. And that Lefty buc 
Jimmy. That may be still on your mind 

"I'm fit. Spike," interrupted Jin 
"I take (are of myself and a bit of road 
work and training under you will put 
mi' in real trim. And about poor I 
— well, yon needn't worry, Spike. If 1 
had to kill Barnes " 

"He'd take a lot of killing, lad," 
jerked Spike. "Not many tougher than 
the Bruiser, (lot a chin of plate iron. 
But at your best, Jimmy, I believe you 
could heat him." 

"Come along with me to see Benion, 
Spike," urged Jimmy. "With your help 
1 guess we can persuade him to work 
for Kitty. Spike, she means cveryt 
to me. and this way I can atone for my 
-hare in Lefty's death." 

"Forget that, Jimmy," anawi 
Spike sternly. "Forget it once and foi 
all. Listen, Laddie. I'll come with you 
to this lawyer guy and I'll tell him 
I'm backing you for five hundred bu< ks. 
Money talks. Between you and 
Jimmy, well have to win that, 
hundred because Bruiser's backer will 
want the dough posted and it's gOl 
be hard— mighty haul to raise it. No 
matter. We're palt-, Jimmy, and i 

January Htli, 1983. 


can get back that punch you had back 
in New York I'll be seeing you champion I 
yet. and a!! your troubles and mine put 
to sleep. Now go and tell your present 
boss that you're under my charge." 

Half an hour later Spike and Jimmy 
were seated iu Benton's office, the lawyer 
regarding Jimmy with wide-open eyes. 

''Jimmy Milligan. the Cyclone Kid," 
he murmured. '"You never told me 

"I came here as Jimmy Glover," ex- 
plained the lad, "but I told you my right 
name in case of inquiries. I didn't say 
1 was the boxer because, after poor Lefty 

"I understand." nodded Benton. "I'm 
a fight fan myself, Jimmy. That's my 
hobby out of business hours. A scrap 
between you and Bruiser Barnes should 
be a hummer. But I'll be frank with 
you, Jimmy. If you've still got that 
g that sent you out of the game 
you'll never beat Bruiser Barnes and 
win that five hundred. If you're fighting 
jast because you can't see any other way 
ol raising cash, if your heart isn't in it, 
then now's the time to say so. In fair- 
to your manager, to yourself and to 

"I shall fight all I know, Mr. Ben- 
ton," answered Jimmy quickly. He was 
ious that the eyes of the two men 
were probing him. "I shall fight for 
Kitty's sake. There's nothing else that 
would have taken me back to the ring. 
But you needn't worry about the rest. 
I'll fight to win." 

"Jimmy means it," murmured Spike. 

"Then I'll fight for your girl, Jimmy." 
added Benton. "I'll take a sporting 
chance of my fee. " I'll do everything 
ijle if you promise not to worry and 
to come to the contest fit and full of 
pep. Because youl! want it all, mv 

Good Sport, Benton ! 
" JIMMY is fighting on Friday week 
for you, Miss Doyle. That's the 

** only way to raise the funds for 
your defence. And listen to this. You 
never gave Jimmy a chance of explain- 
ing matters that night. The death of 
your brother in the ring was not Jimmy's 

Iu the solitude of her cell Kitty 
listened to Benton's explanation. For 
the first time she realised that her anger 
v, ith the good-looking lad who had cap- 
<t her affections was not justified. 
Yet her loathing of the fighting game 
which had killed her elder brother and 
guardian, flamed a protest. 

"It's terrible that Jimmy should have 

to fight " she 6tarted. 

"lie's looking forward to it, Miss 
Doyle," interrupted the lawyer. "He's 
lit. and getting harder every day. Box- 
ing is not the brutal thing you think 
it is. But for boxing, too, Miss Doyle, 
1 wouldn't be here to tell you that I'm 
hard on the track of some information 
that may get you out of here sooner 
than I had hoped. I've had to buy this 
information, and boxing provided the 
cash. But for boxing, that dirty Greek, 
revengeful even in death, might have 

Benton paused, and a shudder con- 
vulsed Kitty's frame. She knew now 
how the dice had been loaded against 
her. The dying man's accusation; the 
statements of jealous Goldie and 
Tomelli; a chapter of ghastly workings 
of diabolical fate that, at the least, would 
ruin her young life. And through 
Jimmy there was hope. 

Benton had a busy day after his morn- 
ing visit to Kitty. He spent two hours 
in close consultation with Inspector 
llawkvard, and when he departed the 
January 14th, 1088. 


Los Angeles detective accompanied him. 
his scepticism partiy conquered by the 
lawyer's forceful pleading. 

"It's an astonishing story, Mr. Ben- 
ton," said the officer, "but I'm willing 
to try it out. I'll have Tomelli shadowed 
and, if it's necessary, I'll take a chance 
with him. He shan't make a getaway 
until we've checked up all this Chink 
swears he heard and raw." 

It was late afternoon when Benton, 
tired and with other work awaiting him 
at the office." found time to visit Jimmy 
at his training quarters a dozen miles 
outside the town. The young boxer had 
finished work for the day. His body had 
already yielded to Spike's training 
schedule. He looked lithe and strong 
as a panther, but his cheeks lacked 
colour, and there was anxiety in his eyes. 
He lushed from Spike's side to greet 
the lawyer who answered his unspoken 

"There's good hope, Jimmy," he said. 
"I can't say more just yet. And, Jimmy. 
I guess that Miss Doyle understands 
things better. You leave her case to me. 
Concentrate Sill your thoughts on win- 
ning this fight — ycu can't do it if you 
worry. And, Jimmy, I don't believe 
you've got anything to worry about." 

When Benton left the camp, Spike 
gripped the lawyer's hand with a clasp 
that was eloquent — and a bit painful, for 
Spike'6 sinewy fingers could do things. 

"Thanks. Mr. Benton,'' whispered the 
rugged-faced manager. "You've done 
Jimmy more good than a barrel of tonic. 
He's been worrying, but you left him 
more like his old self. Fact is, we've 
got a hot handful in Bruiser." 

"I know it, Spike." retorted Benton. 
"One of the toughest welter-weights in 
the West. And he's been strapping 
regularly. That's why I pumped 
optimism into Jimmy — more than justi- 
fied by the facts, perhaps. No' good 
unless your lad climbs into the ring 
full of fight." 

"He's got to think of nothin' else." 
answered Spike grimly. "I'm keeping 
the crowd away. I know they're all 
tipping Barnes to win, and the papers, 
too. They reckon that this Doyle business 
will prey on Jimmy, and they're wide 
to all that's happened. But, Mr. Ben- 
ton, Jimmy won't worrj about that. If 
he thinks that Kitty is goin' to get off 
and that she's forgiven him — and more, 
maybe — he'll go into the ring with joy 
bcils on." 

"I'll do my best to provide those joy 
bells," replied Benton. "I like your lad. 
Spike. He's a credit to the glove game 
and a great young sport. The girl is in 
love with him, in spite of everything. 
She won't say so yet — but wait a bit." 

Benton strode off to his car. The 
tough lawyer was reputed to be a man 
who looked keenly after the "dough." 
This was true enough, but Benton, at 
that moment, had forgott-en his fee 
which hung on the fight. He wanted 
Jimmy to win because Benton had been 
denied a son, and he reflected, sadly, 
that a clean, brave lad like Jimmy Mil i- 
gan would have brought a lot that was 
missing into his life. 

"A paid boxer," murmured the law- 
yer as his swift car hurried him to the 
City. "A gentleman every inch ot 
The world can do with a lot more like 
him !" 

What a Fight ! 

The first round, the crowded 
stadium breathless ond silent. 
Bruiser Barnes, swarthy and tousled of 
hair, sprang viciously to the attack. 
There was no mistaking the strength 
that rippled in his arms. At the con 
cert pitch of fitness he tore in, and the 

Every Tuesday 

Cyclone Kid was forced to clinch des- 
perately. As they broke away, Barnes 
chased Jimmy again. A lightning left 
jerked his head back. But, amid thun- 
derous yells, the Bruiser again bored 
in. When the gong sounded above the 
pandemonium Jimmy was crowded 
against the ropes, the Bruiser's gloved 
fists flailing his body. 

The second round was almost a repeti- 
tion of the first. The Cyclone Kid 
seemed almost at sea. his blows r 
ing. The fans were letting off steam. 

"You've got him, Bruiser:" 

The much touted fight was going to 
be a poor affair. Barnes had " the 
killer " fixed. 

Such was the Bruiser's idea. So this 
was the guy who had killed Lefty 
Doyle ! Lefty must have been more 
than half dead, anyway. The third 
round — lucky. The Cyclone was back- 
ing away, as usual. Now far it ! The 
Bruiser, head clown, tore in for the 
fateful body punch. Then a veil which 
nearly split the roof signalled some- 
thing. Bruiser knew all about it. In 
a split second that rasping upper-cut 
b rattled every tooth in his head 
and dazed his brain told him that 
Cyclone had not lost his punch. Bruiser 
was clinging desperately at the end of 
the round. 

It was going to be a fight, after all. 
chattered the fans. In his corner, the 
Bruiser was listening half savagely to 
his seconds. Spike quietly whispered 
to Jimmy. 

"He's strong. Keep him off alt 
can. Save yourself for the heart punch, 

Even as the gong clanged for tho 
fourth round the Bruiser, his eyes 
aflame, dashed at Jimmy. A rasping 
left failed to stop him. His tattooed, 
muscular arms worked like twin f 
at the white body of the Cyclone Kid. 
A clinch, a break, ear-splitting yells. 
Jimmy was down, the referee counting 
off the fateful se.conds. the Br 
waiting like a hungry tiger. 

Five — six 

Jimmy was up. He danced aside as 
the Bruiser rushed. His face was grey, 
for the last blow had been sus 
low. but the light of battle was afire 
in his eyes. He had to stall a b 
regain his wind and strength. The 
Bruiser was at him again, head down. 
Another fierce upper-cut. delivered with 
all the force Jimmy could muster. I 
blood spurted suddenly from 
Bruiser's mouth, amid frantic J 
But he came on with savage courage, 
hooking and swinging. 

The clang of the gong was music to 
Jimmy. He flopped into his corner 
Spike's earnest words sounded dully on 
his oars. He knew that defeat was 
grimly near. The lay off from a< 
fighting had impaired his timing 
punching, and the chin of the Bruiser 
was rock. 

Yet battle was flaming in his heart. 
•lust a chance, just an opening, and 
he could turn the tables on his 
triumphant swarthy antagonist. He 
must win ! He turned his head to look 
for Benton, who had been in the front 
row of the ring seats. Benton w« 
longer there. Did he believe it was all 
over? Bitterly Jimmy's mind framed 
the question. 

The gong clanged again — so soon— 
and Bruiser hurtled like a catapult 
from his corner. He was going to mako 
this round the last ! 

Disdainful of punishment, his 

and mouth oozing blood, he lashed bis 

short, powerful arms at Jimmy's mid 

Dn. Clinch, break! For a few 

moments the fighters stood toe to toe, 

(Continued on page 28.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 19 

West of Zanzibar on the Ivory Trail, at grips with the sinister Shillov, White Overlord 

of Darkest Africa's Bush ! A grand serial-drama of a strange quest that was fraught with 

Peril and Intrigue. Starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jun., and Cecelia Parker. 


imj expedition in ' "tea. Kirk 

Montgomery and Yrrd (Ju I < * VOi 
to ti'/p Barbara Morgan and lur father 
to locate the girl's broth' r, who liis- 
ind during a queit for one million 
tusks of buried irory, hidd' n by a long- 
d"id tlatt trad'), i i poo Tib. 

II • expedition aroutet the intircst of 
Bill/ Waldron, a scheming adtenturetm, 
end Oeorgei CoulUut, lur ucagg 
d'r^'i. accomplice, and these leact Zan- 
■ -' Morgan 
■jfirtii, irlio engagt Kasimoto, a faithful 

Arab, at (/" 

In tht heart of tht jungli tht Morgan 
blish tht i the cillagi 

I km, While a 

• irr/i ,,' ifltur. I. 

bora got - into tht bush </ Ui fru imoto 

to learn tin truth of a strange, story 

a y.ungu, a rrraturr .'aid to 

§ the form of a man, but a 

mtrength greater than a lion. 

Barba -re friend- 

ship toith '/■' • 'jo. but her J-irty I 
the of Bar 

sroundi' in. irbo dreams of 

(in >. da i 

'root vassals. 

ShitiOi Waldron Inline tltr 

M know the secret of thi 

../ out a toy, of mrn, 

wader one Krot trh. while 

a* Monty, follows a 

trail that look* hi ■ J M •,,'/. 

' 'lass, who has changed tides, H 

'dml y, in tht 

I he plunge* headlo n tt the edge 

Of a '• 

Now Read Oh. 

The Fight in the Cave. 

MON'TY dropped through the sheer 
darkness but had fallen only a 
few feat when his hands, < 
ing blindly, fastened upon a narrow 

His plunge into the unknown 
checked with a j'-rk tha; seemed like 
to tear his arms from 
and he hung there in the gloom, cling- 
ing with his finger* and striving in \ am 
to gain a foot hold with his h 

Except for that rib of rock, which he 
had been lucky enough to grip 
wall of the pi: 
but how far it di scended into 

I the ear- 
to tell. Monty guessed, bowi 
it. was in. 

wind scurried into it from t 
above, and swirled downward witii pro- 
longed and hollow reverberation-. 

A tumult of anxious \> 
reminded Monty that hi- . • 

unaware of hi- ami 

B same time he r« 

hang on to the narrow rib 
• k for more than a fen 
He at once ■ for help. 

' rhrow me a rope— quick! I'm 
holding on to a ledge, about four or 
five feel down. I think '." 

One of the l>e;irers of the safari 
carrving a length of strong hemp, and. 
while some of the party 
the rope waa M after 

'i made in it. 
afoot} oonti loop 

aroii' him 

immediately palled it ti \ 

I later he was being dragf I the 

rap. jiiI. a- he - 
! floor of the cavern again, his : 
led around him thankfully. 
""Are you all rigiit, Mon I ara 


lie breathed ; waa 

! ever have seen me again ii I 
Like i 
from being at -•• r 

" \V. 

a goo I 

the j 

W irry on in the dark- 

not knowing m 
run in 

ie of 
warriors, M 


I, he 
■ I 


me, had 

"Bai '.[ v rapp' 

" we're up agaii 
«i orda W( 

■ a 
I d his 

January Mth. 


companions, the slug striking rock just 
above the top of the cave and bringing 
down a shower of flints. 

The bullet was intended as a threat, 
and Sliillov'6 henchman followed it with 
a loud hail, in which Monty detected 
the word "surrender." 

Krotsky had underestimated his foes. 
for Monty answered the challenge with 
his revolver, just as Morgan, Fred, and 
the rest of the safari came hurrying 
from the gloom of the cavern to find out 
the cause of tire disturbance. 

" Shillov's men ! " Monty told them 
curtly. " Back into the cave before they 
open fire in earnest !" 

They retreated into the shadows, and 
at the same time Krotsky and his fol- 
lowers took to the shelter of the rocks 
again. Skulking behind these, they 
directed a fusillade at the cave mouth, 
and a storm of lead whistled through 
the darkness of the natural tunnel. 

The men of the Morgan safari were 
crouching low, and Barbara was in their 
midst. They returned the volley of 
Shillov's gang, and one of Krotsky's 
native accomplices was picked off. 

The racket of musketry echoed about 
the mouth of the cave, and both 
parties must have blazed off fifty rounds 
of ammunition in as many seconds. Two 
of Lazuma's warriors were knocked 
out, but their fall was avenged three 
times over, and Krotsky had his hat 
snatched away by a bullet, while 
Birkoff, one of the other two Europeans 
in his company, had the lobe of his right 
cur scorched. 

"Looks as if Montgomery and his 
crew mean to fight it out to the bitter 
end." growled Krotsky. 

"Yes," Birkoff answered, "and 
Sliillov wants them taken alive. If we 
kill them off, the secret of the ivory goes 
with them." 

Krotsky gave a snap of his fingers a6 
an idea occurred to him. 

"I have it, Birkoff." he said. "I'll 
take half a dozen of the natives and 
sneak along to the other entrance of that 
cave. We can make a sudden rush at 
them from behind." 

"Your plan is good," the third white 
man put in. "Birkoff and I will 6tay 
here with the rest of the blacks, and 
keep the Morgan safari occupied. When 
we hear you at grips with them, we'll 
come forward at the double." 

The scheme seemed to have every 
prospect of success, particularly as 
Shillov's emissaries had the advantage 
of numbers, and, selecting those who 
were to accompany him, Krotsky began 
to move off behind the shelter of the 
rocks and work his way towards the 

About that same time, however, 
'Monty was holding a consultation with 
Fred, Morgan and C'outlass, and, though 
he did not know if there was another 
outlet to the cave, he proposed taking 
a chance on the existence of one. 

"The odds are against us," he said, 
"and we might be cooped up here long 
enough if we stay where we are. Come 
on. we'll trust to luck." 

They turned back into the depths of 
the cavern, and started to file, through 
the gloom. With vivid recollections of 
•the death-pit, they walked with extreme' 
caution and covered ground at a snail's 
pace, and presently they realised that 
jthe cave was I. -iking a wide bend. 

" We seem to be going back in almost 
I the same direction cow," Fred said to 
! Monty. 

"I was thinking the same thing," 
|Morgan declared, and he had hardly 
spoken when they moved round a sharp 
corner and saw daylight ahead of them, 

This other outlet was on the same 
side of the mountain as the one where 

January Utli, 193J. 


they had made their stand against 
Shillov's minions, but was about a 
quarter of a mile farther to the south. 
Relieved at finding it, Monty and his 
friends quickened their 6teps, and they 
were only thirty or forty yards from it 
when Krotsky and his detachment 
showed up at the entrance. 

Monty checked involuntarily, but was 
quick to recover his presence of mind. 

"Rush 'em!" he shouted, and, as he 
sprang forward, his companions swept 
after him in a body. 

Instead of being the attacking party. 
Krotsky and his accomplices suddenly 
found themselves the victims of a sur- 
prise onslaught, and, before they could 
turn to run, they were overwhelmed by 
the Morgan safari. But they fought 
furiously enough when they realised that 
flight was out of the question, and for 
a minute or two a mad tumult filled the 
cavern, an uproar of shooting punctu- 
ated by the smashing reports of rifles 
fired at point-blank range. 

Krotsky"s men were outnumbered, 
and, savagely as they resisted, were laid 
low by bullet or spear. Krotsky him- 
self attempted to seize Barbara under 
cover of the melee and smuggle her out 
of the cave, so that he might return to 
Shillov with the credit of having made 
a capture, but Monty pounced on him 
and struck him to the floor with a 
terrific right-hander. 

Shillov'6 lieutenant fell amidst the 
sprawled bodies of his native comrades, 
and he was still in a dazed condition 
when Monty dragged him to his feet. 

"You've just about reached the end 
of your career, friend," the youngster 
ground out. " Fred — Kazimoto — keep a 
tight hold on this rat. We're going to 
take him back to camp with us." 

Krotsky was seized and, a prisoner 
of the Morgan safari, was hustled out 
into the open. 

A quarter of a mile away, Birkoff and 
the other white man had started to lead 
their party of natives towards the 
northern outlet of the cave, being 
suspicious of the prolonged silence 
there. And they had been on the point 
of rushing the tunnel when they had 
heard the sound of shooting farther 
along the mountain barrier. 

They were now treated to the spectacle 
of the Morgan group hurrying across 
to the jungle with Krotsky in their 
power, and they stood and watched in 

As next in command. Birkoff might 
have ordered pursuit. But, though his 
band was still favoured by an advantage 
in numbers, he recoiled from the idea 
of running into a possible ambush some- 
where in the heart 6f the tropical 

"By thunder. Brant!" lie said to the 
other white man. "There will be the 
devil to pay when Shillov learns that 
Krotsky is in their hands." 

" We ought to make some effort to 
rescue him," Brant muttered, "but 
Montgomery and his crowd are fighters. 
W T e might finish up by being captured 

Birkoff nodded. 

"You're right." he jerked, "We'll 
get back to the settlement and report." 

They made tracks for Shillov's en- 
campment, and, reaching it some time 
later, hurried through the main gate- 
way of the stockade. Birkoff at once 
saw Shillov standing with Belle Waldron 
on the veranda of his bungalow, and 
with fear in his heart he stumbled 
forward to give an account of what had 

Birkoff had good reason to quake, for 
Shillov had no sooner learned Krotsky's 
fate than he flew into a violent pa^mn 
and hurled blistering curses at his 

Every Tuesday 

minion, a torrent of abuse that was 
suddenly interrupted by Belle. 

"Listen," she snapped, catching 
Shillov by the arm, "if you have any- 
thing but the blood of a coward in your 
veins, you'll annihilate the Morgan 

Shillov flung her hand away. 

"One more word out of you," he 
snarled, "and I'll " 

He stopped himself with an effort. 
Belle was at present too useful an ally 
to offend, and, mastering his wrath, he 
spoke in a calmer tone. 

"I'm sorry, my dear," he said. "I'm 
afraid I lost my temper. This news 
Birkoff brought has upset me. Krotsky 
has to be put in his place at times, but 
he is one of my best men." 

"What do you intend to do?" Belle 
demanded. "Montgomery and his 
friends are a pretty big handful, Boris. 
I was once in favour of letting them 
live, so that they might be forced to 
tell what they know about Tipoo Tib's 
treasure. But I'm beginning to think 
that it would be better to smash them, 
and search for the ivory ourselves." 

Shillov shook his head 

"I've been searching for months," ho 
growled, " and without result. No. 
Belle, I'm not going to wipe them out 
until I've made them talk. As for 
Krotsky " 

He cut himself short, and swung 
round upon Birkoff, glaring at the man 
so that he cringed. 

"You get Krotsky back unharmed." 
he grated, his small eyes blazing under 
his heavy brows. "You understand? 
Get him back unharmed, or I'll feed 
you to the crocodiles." 

"Can I — can I have more men. 
Shillov?" the fellow stammered. 

Shillov nodded abruptly, and then 
glowered at his emissary as the latter 
moved across the compound to muster a 
formidable rescue-party. 

Marching Orders for Coutlass. 

ARRIVED at Chief Lazuma's 
village. the Morgan party 
arranged for Krotsky to be 
lodged in one of the native huts, and 
Fred and Monty attended to the 
prisoner while Morgan went to his 
quarters, complaining that he felt a 
trifle shaky. 

Monty made it his business to sec that 
Krotsky was securely bound, and. satis- 
fied on this score, he stood looking down 
at the sullen captive as the rogue lay 
huddled on the floor. 

"I don't think this man will bother 
us any more. Fred," he drawled. "I 
only wish Shillov was right here in the 
same fix. Then we'd all be a good deal 
easier in our minds." 

Krotsky raised his glance truculently, 
but there was a trace of fear in his 
manner. He was anxious concerning the 
fate that was to be meted out to him. 

"What aro you going to do with me, 
Montgomery?" he muttered. 

"That's something we've got to 
decide," was the curt answer. "But in 
the meantime you're going to stay put." 

Krotsky's eyes narrowed. 

"You're a fool, Montgomery," he 
said. "A fool to cross Shillov as you're 
doing ! Shillov's a big man here. He 
could crush you and Lazuma's people 
if he called up all the forces he has ac 
his command. And he'll do it, too, if 
any harm comes to me." 

Before Monty could make any reply 
Barbara came running into the hut with 
a frightened expression on her pretty 

"Something's wrong with father." 
she gasped. "When he got to his 
quarters he just collapsed, and he's 
lying in a cold sweat now. Kazimoto 

Every Tuesday 

thinks it's the jungle fever. He says 
it strikes suddenly that way.'' 

Monty and Fred hastened with her 
to the hut where her father lay. Kazi- 
moto was bending over Morgan, who 
had been wrapped in a blanket and lay 
groaning on a camp-bed. 

"It's fever all right," Monty 
announced, after a brief examination. 
"But don't worry, Barbara, he'll pull 
through all right, with his constitution. 
Probably be himself again in a day or 
two. Hey, Kazimoto, fetch the medicine 
chest, will you ':'' 

The guide slipped away, and was re- 
turning with the medicine chest when 
Georges Coutlass accosted him, clap- 
ping him on the shoulder and speaking 
to him with his usual heartim 

" Ha, the veree man I look for I" he 

"Kazimoto no time talk now," the 
guide said, a little coldly. "Bwana 
Morgan him sick man." 

lie would have passed on for, like 
the others in the party, he had never 
cared for the Greek. But Coutlass took 
him by the arm and restrained him. 

"Listen, Kazimoto," he said, lower- 
ing his voice. "I theenk you pretty nice 
fellow. How you like to have plenty 
money, much land and cattle in your 
own country — eh ?" 

The guide shrugged. 
Kazimoto like ver' much," he 

" Then persuade black bearers to take 
their (runs and com' with you and me," 
Coutlass announced. "We look for 
ivory, and find it for ourselves !" 

Kazilnoto looked him full in the eyes 
ihook his head. 

"No," be said firmly. "Me true to 
a Montgomery and Bwana Oakes." 

Neither of them realised that Fred had 
ired from Morgan's hut and over- 
heard the conversation, 

"Bwana Montgomery," Coutlass 
ad. "Bwana Oakes, Bwana Mont- 
gomery, liah, if they find thees ivoiy 
they will only give you and I a trivial 
share 1 Now 1 am your friend, K.i/i 

IlMltO " 

He broke off abruptly as he suddenly 
lit sight of Fred, and he changed 
the Subject, talking loudly of Morgan's 
illness, and offering all kinds of ad 

ad f.nne up, took the medieine- 

■ from Kazimoto's hands, and then 

i to the < ; . ■ 

" You're a big help, Coutlass, in every 

nay," he ground out, and then went 

back into the but. 

When Morgan had been dosed, Fred 
■poke to Monty earnestly. 

We've got to do something about 
he declared He's trying lo 
ilunlile cross us. 1 heard him'j-i.-t now 
doing his best to persuade Kazimoto to 
his influence w ith ihe native 
II. related the Greek's proposal in de- 
tail, and, with an ominous frown. 
»■ drew his revolver and stepped 
Bra following at 
In* b< ■ 

OH do Dot want to hunt for the 

ivory with Georgei I outlass, eh?" the 

ping to Kazimoto. "All 

t my plana 

the muzzle 

of In- revolver into the -mall of the 

traitoi V back, and < OUtU 
with an exclamation. 

low down fiii I" Monty 
"It would be a real efforl foi .i nan like 
you to stay loyal to a n ybody for more 
"/four hou 
ittempted to bl 

I ha Seven . ied. " You 

iotring mv my friend ? 

I rn is no man " 

M , ten I ted harshly. 


"You've got a gun, and we'll let you, 
take food and water. But get out!"" 

It was in vain that Coutlass ex- 
postulated. Monty would listen neither 
to arguments, pleas, or threats, and at 
last the Greek moved away sullenly. 
But, reaching the edge of the clearing 
in which the village stood, he paused to 
consider what course of action to take. 

He had failed signally in his effort to 
set up an expedition of his own, and, if 
he were still to remain in the running 
for any share of the ivory, he must seek 
an ally. Shillov was his only hope, and, 
though there was no love lost between 
him and that prospective emperor of the 
jungle, he saw a way of ingratiating 
himself with the man. 

"Jackals!" he muttered under his 
breath, glaring at Fred and Monty as 
they strolled off through the village with 
Barbara and Kazimoto. "For this in- 
justice to me you will pay dearly. H'm, 
you have Krotsky a prisoner, eh ? And 
maybe Shillov would like to see him 
back in his fold? Very well— I, Georges 
Coutlass. know what to do." 

The Greek stole through the under- 
growth on the fringe of the jungle, and, 
manoeuvring close to the hut .■ 
Krotsky lay, he slipped into the dwelling 
and diew his knife. 

Krotsky gave him a scared glance, not 
knowing the man's intentions, but Cout- 
lass made haste to reassure him. 

"Have no fear," he whispered. "I 
am no assassin. Krotsky, but one who 
wishes you well. The" Morgan party- 
have done with me, and now, like 
I am your friend." 

He was cutting at the prisoner's bonds 
while he spoke, and, when he had been 
set free and was on his feet 
Krotsky thanked him hoarsely. 

"Shillov will reward you for this, 
Coutlass," he added. "But listen. 
Before we get out of here we'll take 
Morgan with us as a hostage. He 
should be easy to handle, for I undcr- 
I he's a sick man." 
Morgan?" the Greek exclaimed. 
"How are we going to smuggle him 
from this village?" 

"Give me that knife, and I'll show 
you," Krotsky answered, and, a moment 
later, the two men 
were creeping un- 
observed out of the 



They crawled round to the duelling 
in which Morgan was lying in a stupor. 
It was impossible to enter it by the 
doorway, tor this was in full view of 
Monty and his companions, who were 
now in conference with Chief Lazuma. 
But, posting himself at the back of the 
hut, Krotsky began to cut away the 
matted leaves anu vines of which it was 

"Krotsky," Coutlass hissed, "there 
may be someone in there with Morgan. 
If an alarm is given, we are done lor." 

But Krotsky had already peered 
through the slight fissure he had made 
in the wall, and had assured himself that 
the sick man was for the time being un- 
attended. He went to work more 
speedily then, and had soon carved a 
hole large enough to let him into the 

The medicine which Morgan had re- 
ceived had drugged him, and he re- 
mained unconscious as Krotsky dragged 
him from his camp-bed and hauled him 
out through the slit at the back of the 

"Hoist him on your bark, Cputli 
Krotsky said. "You are a stronger man 
than I." 

The Greek complied, and they 
stumbled towards the bush, plui ij 
into it and vanishing among the trees 
and undergrowth. Presently they sti 
a narrow track, and, knowing the j 
paths as he knew the palm of his • 
hand, Krotsky announced that it would 

take them direct to Shillov's settlement. 

They pressed on, Coutlass moving as 
fast as he could under the human burdi n 
he was carrying, but they had 
travelled more than a couple of hundred 
yards when they heard a faint 01 
in Lazuma's village. 

The escape of Krotsky had bee, 
covered, and, more alarming still to 
Barbara, Fred, and Monty, the dis- 
appearance of Morgan became known 
immediately afterwards. 

Monty lost no time in fitting out a 
searoh-party, which was considerably re- 
inforced whin Lazuma volunti 
about thirty of his best warriors. 

The column was preparing to leave 
when Barbara hurried to Monty's side. 

A moment later he was being 
dragged from the death-trap. 

January 11 Ui, 198% 


"I've got to go with you!" she 
panted. "I couldn't bear to stay 

"You'd better, Barbara," Monty 
answered firmly. " We may finish up by 
having trouble with some of Shillov's 
men, for if I know the man he's prob- 
ably sent out a rescue-party for Krotsky 
by now. Listen, I think Coutlass has 
had something to do with this, but don't 
worry — we'll bring your father back." 

The column marched rapidly from the 
village, and Barbara watched the men 
till the bush had swallowed them. But, 
in spite of Monty's assurances, 6he was 
not content to remain idle while her 
father was in danger, and, suddenly 
espying a native youth near by, she 
beckoned to him and offered him a 
string of beads she was wearing round 
her neck. 

He held out his hand smilingly, eager 
for the gift, and Barbara began to ex- 
plain that the beads would be his if he 
consented to go with her into the bush. 
.She had managed to pick up a word or 
two of the native dialect, and, though 
it was some time before she was able 
to make the negro understand, he 
finally took her meaning, and agreed to 
the proposal with a nod of his woolly 

Barbara pushed the beads into his fist, 
and the native youth at once broke into 
a trot, the girl running alongside him 
as he took the route that Monty's 
column had followed. 

The Ambuscade, 

AS they blundered on through the 
jungle, Krotsky and Coutlass 
heard the shouts of the pursuers 
behind them, and, ere much more 
ground had been covered, the Greek 
called a halt and made as if to let the 
unconscious figure of Morgan slide from 
his back. 

" By the twelcve apostles," he said 
breathlessly, "I, Georges Coutlass, was 
not cut out for a pack-mule. I am part- 
ing company with this burden of mine." 

"We're not leaving him," Krotsky 
retorted. "He's too useful to Shillov. 
Here, I'll carry him for a spell." 

He prepared to relieve Coutlass, but 
at that moment the Greek espied a 
mob of men coming towards them from 
an unexpected quarter. 

"Thunder of heaven," he jerked, 
''they've headed us off!" 

He was wrong, however. Breasting 
their way through a mass of thickets, 
tiie newcomers emerged into full view, 
and proved to be a formidable company 
of blacks, armed with rifles and led by 
a white man — none other than Birkoff. 

Krotsky gave an exclamation of relief, 
and a moment later he and Birkoff were 
face to face. 

"You're just in time, comrade," he 
said. "Coutlass hero helped me to 
escape, and we brought Morgan along 
with us. But Montgomery and his 
crew are hot on our trail." 

Birkoff tapped the butt of his rifle. 

"Good," he commented. "We'll am- 
bush your pursuers and see if wo can 
take back more than one prisoner to 
Shillov. Quick, into the thickets !" 

The thickets grew close to the bank 
of a stagnant crocodile-swamp, and it 
was as the Shillov gang were plunging 
into the undergrowth that Monty and 
Fred, well in advance of the rest of their 
party, turned a bend in the jungle 
track and caught sight of the enemy. 

They stopped abruptly, and then, with- 
out a word, Monty dragged FreV! back 
before Shillov's men could see them. 
And as the remainder of the column 
came up at the double, he signed to 
them to keep quiet. " 

Peering through a mass of jungle 

January 14th, 1U33. 


foliage, Monty marked the figures of, 
the rival band taking shelter in the 
thickets, and, after watching them for 
a few seconds, he turned to Kazimoto. 

"You were right in what you said a 
few minutes ago," he whispered. 
"Krotsky and Coutlass took this path 
that leads to Shillov's settlement, and 
they've just run into a strong party of 
Shillov's men. It looks as if they in- 
tend to ambush us, but we'll spring a 
surprise on them instead." 

"How, Monty?" put in Fred. 

"I want Kazimoto to take half of 
our party and work round to the other 
side of those thickets," Monty rejoined. 
"We'll give him time to get into posi- 
tion, and then we'll rush." 

The plan was put into operation, and 
Kazimoto and about twenty men 
executed a detour. Meanwhile, Monty 
and the rest of the column waited in 
silence, and four or five minutes had 
elapsed when the young white man sud- 
denly sprang to his feet. 

"Come on!" he shouted, and dashed 
into the open. 

Fred was close at his heels, and be- 
hind him came a handful of bearers 
armed with rifles and a score of Lazuma's 

A volley flashed from the thicket, and 
hot lead whistled amongst Monty's fol- 
lowers. Three of Lazuma's tribesmen 
fell, but the others hurled their assegais 
into the undergrowth with deadly effect, 
and, dropping to their knees, Monty, 
Fred and the bearers answered the fire 
of Shillov's band. 

At that same instant there was an 
outburst of shooting on the other side 
of the thickets, and Monty knew that 
Kazimoto and his detachment were 
going into action. He promptly gave 
the command to advance again, and 
charged into the undergrowth at the 
head of his men. 

"By the Seven Seas!" roared the 
voice of Georges Coutlass. "We are 
surrounded !" 

In the twinkling of an eye all was 
confusion. Assailed before and behind, 
Shillov's partisans were thrown into the 
wildest disorder, and, though they were 
equal in numbers to their antagonists, 
their morale was shattered by the un- 
expectedness of the dual onset. 

Lazuma's warriors ran amok, stab- 
bing with spear, striking with club. 
The bearers blazed with their rifles at 
close range, shooting right and left. 
Monty, emptying his revolver, heaved it 
at one of Shillov's bushmen allies, then 
found himself at grips with Krotsky. 

Locked in a desperate struggle, the 
two men blundered through the thickets, 
tumbled into the swamp close by and 
wallowed in the stagnant waters. From 
a shelving strand of mud forty yards 
away several scaly forms slid into the 
slime and began to glide towards the 
combatants — hungry crocodiles with their 
deadly jaws agape for prey. 

Both men straightened up, but Monty 
bajiged his fist to his foe's jaw and 
hammered him down. Krotsky was on 
his feet again in an instant, however, 
and with a lucky blow he sent the 
youngster flying into the middle of the 

Monty struck his head on a half- 
submerged log, and the blow knocked 
him dizzy. He lay sagging in the 
shallows, and Krotsky scrambled to dry 
land, then looked back and saw the 
school of hideous reptiles moving towards 
his half-stunned antagonist. 

With a leet Krotsky staggered from 
the scene. There was a great deal of 
\rment among the thickets — men run- 
ning in all directions— and it did not 
take him long to realise that Birkotf's 

Every ruesday 

party had been routed in detail. He 
himself slunk off stealthily, bent on 
eluding death or capture. 

Meanwhile, Monty was striving to col- 
lect his wits, and, as he mustered up 
enough strength to stand, he saw the 
crocodiles moving towards him, their 
ugly snouts cutting through the water. 

Alive to his ghastly peril, he made for 
the bank. He was up to his thighs in 
the swamp, and underwater weeds ham- 
pered his feet, tripping him half a dozen 
times. The crocodiles gained on him, 
and he put on a desperate spurt. 

The bank at last, and, as he reached 
safety, there was a clash of teeth at his 
heels. Had terra-firma been a yard 
farther off, he would have been dragged 
to his doom by the loathsome brutes 
which had pursued him. 

There was no sign of Krotsky, but, 
hearing voices in the thickets, he 
plunged through the undergrowth and 
came full-tilt into Barbara and the 
native youth who had consented to act 
as her guide. 

"Oh, Monty, I had to follow!" the 
girl panted. "What's happened? 
Where is my father?" 

"I don't know," he answered, "but 
I think he should be safe. Look, there's 
Fred and some of our party over there." 

He pointed through the thickets, and, 
when they joined Fred, they saw that 
he was kneeling with Kazimoto over 
Morgan's prone form. 

"Missy Barbara's father ver' sick 
now," Kazimoto said as they reached 
the spot. " Better take him back to 
village quick." 

Monty nodded, and then, while 
Morgan was being lifted by two of 
the bearers, Fred spoke. 

"We wiped out about half of that 
party from Shillov's settlement," he 
announced, glancing around at the 
huddled figures of the dead. "The 
rest of 'em beat it as fast as they 

"Any prisoners?" Monty demanded. 

Fred shook his head. 

"Lazuma's warriors saw to that," he 
rejoined grimly. "It doesn't seem to 
occur to them to give any quarter. By 
the way, Coutlass got away with another 
white man. What happened to 

"Gone!" Monty answered. "We fell 
into the swamp. I just missed being 
an appetiser for a pack of crocodiles. 
But let's get Barbara's father back to 
the village. The longer he's out in this 
foul atmosphere of swamps, the worse 
he's likely to be." 

A start was made, and, before they 
had gone far, they were overtaken by 
some (4 Lazuma's warriors, returning 
from a futile pursuit of the Shillov 
survivors. ' In triumph these headed the 
march back to the native village. 
Belle Waldron's Plan. 

MAKING his way through the hush, 
Krotsky presently detected move- 
ments somewhere on his right, 
and a little while later he espied the 
figures of Birkoff and Coutlass, both of 
them as dishevelled as Shillov's hench- 
man himself. 

They were accompanied by the rem 
nants of the native detachment which 
Birkoff had commanded, and hailed 
Krotsky joyfully as they saw him— 
Birkoff because he feared the i 
quences of returning without him, Cout- 
lass because he banked on the man put- 
ting in a good word for him to Shillov. 

"Thunder, we are all lucky to be 
alive," the Greek declared. "Had I 
not fought like ten men. I fear none 
of us would have escaped.;! 

"You fought?" snarled Birkoff. "You 
were one of the first to run!" 

Every Tuesday 

Coutlass gave him an ugly look, but 
forbore from making any comment, and 
the survivors of the ambuscade straggled 
on till they reached the Shillov encamp- 
ment, where their appearance created a 
tremendous amount of excitement among 
the population of blacks and Europeans 
inside the stockade. 

Birkoff, Krotsky and Coutlass hurried 
across the compound to Shillov's bunga- 
low, and found the jungle ts'iant in the 
living-room of his residence with Belle 

Shillov looked at Birkoff and Krot- 
sky, and then bent his eyes upon 
Georges Coutlass ominously. 

"Our friend the Greek, eh?" he 
snarled. "Birkoff, I suppose it was your 
fool idea to bring this man back as a 
prisoner. Why didn't you shoot him 
on sight?" 

'"Come, Shillov," Coutlass exclaimed 
with indignation, "'this is ingratitude on 
your part. I am no prisoner. Krotsky 
will tell you how I cut him free and 
helped him to escape." 

"That's true, Shillov," Krotsky mur- 
mured. "The Morgan party kicked him 
out of their camp." 

" You see, Shillov, I am your friend," 
Coutlass interposed quickly. "Krotsky 
bears out my words, and if you had 
more men like me on your side, we 
should have succeeded in bringing Mor- 
gan as a hostage, instead of letting our- 
selves be ambushed by Montgomery and 
his jackals." 

Shillov started at the words. 

"' Morgan as a hostage '?" he echoed. 
'"Ambushed by Montgomery' ? What 
talk is this? Krotsky, Birkoff, what's 
this 1 hear?" 

In faltering tones Krotsky related all 
that had happened, and Shillov's eyes 
fairly blazed as he heard the story. 

"So!" he ground out. "You had your 
hands on Morgan, and let him slip 
through them. And, into the bargain, 
you let a score of my men be wiped 
out! Bungling fools — bungling fools, 1 
say! Get out of my sight, will you?" 


Cowed, both Krotsky and Birkoff made 
their exit, but Coutlass remained, not 
taking himself to be included in the 
wrathful command, and he was standing 
there in an attitude of perfect com- 
posure when Shillov switched his bale- 
ful glance on him. 

"What are you staying here for?" he 
demanded. "What have you come to 
this camp for, anyway, you carrion 

Coutlass looked at him craftily. " The 
carrion crow comes for the pickings," 
he said. " That is why I am here, Shil- 
lov. Let us get down to figures and 
make a bargain. I can be of use to 
you, and all I ask is ten per cent of the 
ivory when we find it." 

"Do you know where it is?" Shillov 
asked him quickly. 

The Greek thought fast. He had not 
the vaguest idea where the treasure of 
Tipoo Tib was buried, but, to consoli- 
date his status in Shillov's ramp, it 
might be as well to pretend that he pos- 
sessed important information. 

"Why should I tell?" he said with a 
shrug. "First, Shillov, we must agree 
upon my share." 

"You're in no position to dictate 
terms," Shillov rapped out. "Bear in 
mind that I'm master here, and your life 
hangs by a thread." 

"Bah, save your threats for your 
underlings!" Coutlass scoffed. "If any- 
thing happens to me you will never find 
the ivory. You had better treat me as 
an honoured guest, Shillov." 

The jungle tyrant eyed him shrewdly 
for a moment, and, half suspecting that 
the (ireek was bluffing, he gave a mock- 
ing laugh. 

"My honoured guest!" he said with a 
leer. " All right, I give you tho free- 
dom of the settlement, Coutlass. But 
try to get away from it — try to get 
away, that's all!" 

The Greek scowled at him, then went 
out to the compound, and, when they 
were alone together, Belle Waldron 
spoke to Shillov. 


"I doubt if that bungling fool knows 
anything," she opined. "Listen, Boris. 
I've figured out a plan, and there's a 
way of bringing the Morgans to you." 

"How?" Shillov demanded. 

"Morgan is searching for his son," 
Belle began. "That's true enough, 
and, months ago, when he thought I 
could help him, young Jack Morgan 
sent me this letter." 

She produced the document in ques- 
tion, and handed it to her accomplice. 

"It is, as you see, an appeal to me 
for aid," she went on, "and it might 
have been written yesterday, for it's 
undated. Now — I can go to Morgan 
with this letter, and trick him into com- 
ing here by telling him that Jack is a 
prisoner in your hands, and that you've 
tortured him so persistently that he's 
desperately ill, and won't live unless 

Shillov frowned. The scheme sounded 
feasible, but he had vague doubts, ami 
was not the man to place too much faith 
in anyone, not even Belle. 

"You've had a lot of dealings with 
Coutlass in llie past," he muttered. 
"He's as cunning as a fox, and 
treacherous as a leopard. How am 1 
to know that you'll play fair by me 
while you're out of my sight? Coutlass 
deserted to the Morgan party for a 
spell, and you may do tho same." 

"Boris, you've got to trust me," Belle 
insisted. "Jt's our only chance." 

"Morgan and his friends are pretty 
far-seeing," Shillov growled. " I 
won't walk too easily into a trap. Don't 
forget that." 

"They'll fall for my story all right.' 1 
Belle assured bin. "Have one of your 
blacks guide me to Lazuuia's vil 
and, when we're in sight of it, I'll go 
forward alone." 

Shillov stood thinking for a moment, 
and then he nodded grimly. 

All right, go ahead," he agreed. "But 
remember, you'd better not double 

The details of the plan were discu! 

They stood helpless, with the rifles of their foes threatening 
them and Shillov chuckling in his grey beard. 

January 14th, 1933. 


and some time later Belle left the settle- 
ment with a negro guide. She disap- 
peared into the jungle with him, and 
the native led her along a path that 
wound through the thickets, an animal 
track that linked up Shillov's encamp- 
ment with Lazuma's village. 

Man and woman had the tree-apes for 
company, and the chattering of the 
creatures seemed to fill the bush. Once 
they heard the far-off roar of a lion, but 
it was stilled by a challenging, hoarse- 
toned bellow that went echoing through 
the tropical forest, and Belle's guide 
looked uneasy. 

"Zungu!" the native faltered. 

"Zungu?" Belle reiterated. "Who 
is he?" 

"Big jungle mystery," the black 
answered. "Him kill man and beast. 
We take new trail, missy — keep away 
from Zungu." 

The guide altered his course, strik- 
ing along a branch-track that led off to 
the right, and, after proceeding for a 
mile or so, he began to work back again, 
.satisfied that the detour had enabled him 
to avoid the terror of the bush. 

Belle followed at his heels, and pre- 
sently the negro stopped and pointed 
straight ahead. Amid the chatter of 
the apes the woman now heard the croon- 
ing of voices' raised in some native song, 
and, peering forward through tangled 
foliage, she saw the huts of Lazuma's 
village about a hundred and fifty yards 

"You go!" Belle said, turning to her 
guide. "Go now." 

The black slipped away, and Belle 
moved towards a pool of swampy water 
close by. She first of all disarranged 
her hair, then smeared her blouse and 
breeches with mire, to give the appear- 
ance of having travelled under diffi- 

The Snare. 

MORGAN* having been put to bed 
again, Monty was holding a con- 
fer! nee in Lazuma's village with 
Barbara, Fred and Kazimoto. 

"As soon as Barbara's father is well 
enough to travel again," Monty said, 
"we'll push on and continue the search 
for Jack. If he's alive, I think he's 
possibly somewhere beyond this tract of 
bush, and I'll be glad to get out of these 
parts anyhow. There must be some hoo- 
doo on "this part of the country, judg- 
ing by the trouble we've had in it." 

"It gave us one bit of luck, Monty," 
Fred rejoined. "We've parted company 
with the one and only George Coutlass." 

"Yes." Monty admitted, "and I hope 
we've lost him for good, though his 
kind have a disquieting habit of turn- 
ing up again like a bad coin " 

He got no further, for at that moment 
the figure of a white woman staggered 
from the jungle as if in distress, and 
ir was with an exclamation that he recog- 
nised her as Belle Waklron. 

The adventuress acted her part con- 
summately, bearing out her dishevelled 
appearance with an air of tremulous agi- 
tation, as she approached the spot where 
Monty and his companions were 

"Mr. Montgomery," she panted, 
"Mr. Montgomery!" 

Monty looked at her coldly. 

"What do you want here?" he de- 

" I've run all the way from Shillov's 
settlement," she answered. " You've 

gol to come back there with me at once. 
Shillov has gone mad — over his quest 
for the ivory. He beat me, and then 
left hurriedly on some wild trip." 

"What's all this got to do with us?" 
put in Barbara. 

Belle turned towards her. 

January 14th, 1933. 


"He's got your brother," she said, "a 
prisoner. He thinks Jack knows where 
the ivory is hidden — and he's had him 
tortured for days and days. Oh, it was 
horrible to see, and — and Jack's dan- 
gerously ill. You've got to do some- 
thing to save him." 

Barbara had paled, but Monty laid a 
hand on her sleeve. In spite of Belle's 
convincing display, he was not to be 
readily gulled by her story. 

"This woman is notorious," he told 
Barbara. "Don't bank on what she 
says, for this is just another of her 

Belle bit her lip. 

"I didn't expect you to believe me," 
she murmured, "so I brought some 

She held out the months'-old letter 
from Jack Morgan, and, as Barbara saw 
the handwriting and scanned it rapidly, 
she gave a sharp cry. 

"It's from Jack all right," she gasped. 
"Monty, what are we going to do?" 

"I don't trust this woman," Monty 
persisted. " She'd gladly lead us into 
a trap if she could. How is it you 
escaped from Shillov's settlement so 
easily. Belle Waldron, anyway?" 

"Easily!" the woman cried. "Why, 
I gave everything I had to two guards, 
then risked my life to come through the 
bush to you — only to have you doubt 
me! Listen! Shillov has left his camp, 
and the only ones left are the two guards 
I told you about. They've agreed to 
stand by me. and they'll help us to save 
Jack — but we've got to act at once, 
before Shillov returns." 

Barbara looked at Monty appealingly. 
"We've got to go!" she insisted. 
"Jack's life depends on it. Shillov will 
go on torturing him if we don't rescue 





Two other Splendid Long Complete 

Film Novels. 


Starring Eric Linden and Sidney Fox. 

Starring Edmund Lowe, Evelyn Brent 

and Constance Cummings. 
Ask your Newsagent to save you a copy of 


Every Tuesday 

"Better take a chance, Monty," Fred 
urged. "I know Belle Waldron, too. 
but her story may be genuine this time." 

"All right," Monty consented, "but 
we must look out for treachery, and 
I'm not going to risk our entire party. 
Fred, you and I will go alone with this 

Barbara caught at his wrist. " You 
can't leave me behind," she protested 
with emphasis. "This concerns my 
brother, and I'm going, too!" 

Her mind was clearly made up, and 
Monty knew that, even if he refused t. , 
take her, she would follow and risk the 
perils of the bush. Therefore lie agreed 
reluctantly to the girl accompanying 
them, and instructed Kazimoto to re- 
main and watch over her father. 

Fred, Monty and Barbara then left. 
tho village with Belle, the two young 
white men taking the lead, as they knew 
the route to Shillov's settlement. 

A steady march through the bush 
brought them in sight of the enemy en- 
campment's stockade, and as they fixed 
their gaze on it from the cover of tho 
jungle undergrowth, they saw two Euro- 
pean guards posted at the main gate- 

"Leave those men to me," Belle said. 
"I'll talk to them." 

She moved forward alone, and when 
she reached the sentinels, spoke to them 
in an undertone, though she was well 
out of earshot of Monty and his friend-. 

"Tell Shillov that Montgomery, Oakes 
and the Morgan girl are here," she said 
to them. "I'll go back and assure them 
that you've agreed to keep out of tho 
way while they get Jack Morgan. Then 
I'll bring them straight to the bunga- 

The guards went off, worked round 
to the rear of Shillov's dwelling and 
entered a back room, where their leader 
and Krotsky and another white man 
were assembled with one or two blacks, 
all armed to the teeth. 

The guards passed on Belle's message, 
and Shillov's small eyes gleamed with 

"And there are onlv three of them, 
eh?" he growled. "That's fine! By 
thunder, both Montgomery and Oake* 
will pay the. full price for the trouble 
they've given me!" 

They waited, and presently they heard 
footsteps in the front room of the bunga- 
low, wary footsteps that told them Belle 
had conveyed the prey within reach. 
Then Barbara Morgans voice reached 
their ears. 

"Where is my brother Jack?" she 
was asking Belle. 

Shillov pointed to the door, and Krot- 
sky wrenched it open. Next moment 
the crooks were swarming out to sur- 
round those in the front room, who had 
been joined an instant before by an 
Arab girl, Azu, who was Belle's maid. 

Fred and Monty had no time to offer 
any resistance, which would indeed have 
been futile against such overwhelming 
numbers. They stood helpless, with the 
rifles of their foes threatening them and 
Shillov chuckling it) his grey beard. 

"So you came after Jack Morgan." 
the ruffian sneered. "Well, you're in 
my power, and let me tell you that any 
attempt to escape is useless." 

Monty glanced at the mocking face 
of Belle Waldron, and clenched his teeth . 
with rage. What he had feared had como 
to pass, and they were captives in the 
hands of a man who knew no pity, and 
who stopped at nothing to gain his own 
villainous ends. 

(To be continued in another long epi- 
sode of breath-taking excitement next 
week. By permission of Universal Pic- 
tures, Ltd., starring Tom Tyler, Noah 
Beery, Jun., and Cecilia Parker.) 

Every Tuesday 



(Continued bom page 10.) 

horses, Rusty, and wait for me near that 
side gate. I'll go ahead with the play 
I was aiming to carry out before we 
ran into each other." 

They separated, and Larry made his 
way to the lean-to where he had en- 
countered Rusty a little . while 

A Bid for Freedom. 

LARRY again proceeded to climb to 
the roof of the lean-to, and this 
time he achieved his purpose with- 
out interruption. 

There was a window above the roof, 
and it was open to the night. Larry 
saw at a glance that it looked on to a 
corridor, and he pushed bis lugs through 
and scrambled over the sill. 

Not ten paces away was the head of 
the staircase, and on the top step a 
guard was sitting. The man turned his 
head as he heard Larry, and, at sight 
of him, he sprang to his feet and 
whipped out a knife. 

He hurled the blade at the youngster, 
but Larry ducked, and the dagger hit 
the wall a glancing blow and dropped to 
the floor. Next second the Ranger had 
ponnced on hi- man and was grappling 
with him fiercely. 

The sentinel struggled free, and at- 
tempted to give the alarm, but before he 
could do so Larry drove his fist into his 
jaw with smashing impact, and the 
gagged limply. 

The young Ranger turned to a door 
which the crook had seemed to be 
guarding, It was easy to guess that it the door of Joan Stanton's prison, 
and, at Larry twisted the handle and 
pushei the threshold, he saw the 

girl in the middle of the room. 

She had moved forward on hearing 

the door open, but, recognising the in- 
truder, she swung away again coldly. 
Next second Larry was at her side and 

appealing to her urgently. 

" I haven't time to explain now," he 
laid, "but you've got to trust me, Joan. 
I'm taking you out of here." 
Joan gave him an icy stare. 
II- do you expect me to believe 
she flashed, "when I heard you 
iiil Sanderson you brought me here for 
the reward'.'" 

Well, I had to sfall for time," Larry 
jerked. "If he'd known the tiuth he'd 
have killed the pair of US." 

"Oh, I'd sooner trust Sanderson than 
\on !" Joan flung at him. 

as a scuffling movement out- 
side the room at that moment, and, 
turning his head, Larry wiw that the 
victim of his onslaught was beginning 
to recover. The promptly 

bed Joan by the hand and hu 

if of the room. 
The guard was rising to his feet when 
Larry gained the corridor, hut the 
Ranger felled him again and then 
hurried Joan along to the window by 
which he had gained admittance to the 

iugh here," he ordered, "and 
don .11 gue I" 

The sight of Sanderson's minion 
in the corridor had half- 
convinced Join that Larry was indeed 

her friend, and she let him help her out 

to the roof of the lean-to. He im- 
mediately followed her across the sill, 
and then pointed to the courtyard. 

"I'll jump," he told her. "You 


lower yourself over the edge of the roof 
and I'll catch you as you tall. I've got 
a friend waiting at the side gate with 

So far so good, but Larry was out of 
luck that night, for at that particular 
instant the man whom Rusty had 
clubbed was struggling to his feet, and, 
as he saw Joan and her rescuer on the 
roof of the lean-to, he tugged out his 

Larry dropped to the courtyard, and 
Sanderson's hireling promptly sprang 
at him from the shadows. 

"Stick 'em up!" he blurted, as the 
Ranger was straightening. 

Larry defied the threat of the gun and 
lunged at the man. His fist stiuck the 
revolver from the fellow's grasp, and, 
even as it clattered to the flagstones of 
the patio, the youngster closed with the 
crook in savage combat. 

From aloft Joan watched them breath- 
lessly. She saw them trip and fall, and 
the gangster made a snatch at the gun 
which lay just within reach. Larry 
caught his wrist to baffle the man, but 
he Drought over his other hand, seized 
the weapon, and scrambled to his feet 
with it. 

Larry rose with him and clutched the 
barrel of the forty-five. He jerked it 
a~ide even at the crook drew trigger, 
and the flashing report deafened him, 
but the bullet supped harmless into 
. and next second the six-shooter 
followed it, flying over the Ran 
shoulder arid crashing through the 
french windows of the room in which 
Sanderson and Piute were talking. 

There was an outcry, and Sanderson 
and his lieutenant stumbled from the 
apartment. A- the] .-aw Larry battling 

with their accomplice, they ran to attack 
him from behind, hut from her van! 
point on the roof of the lean to Joan 
■ailed a shrill warning. 

'Larry!'' she screamed. "Look out, 
Larrj behind you!" 

Larry felled his antagonist with a 
slashing right-book, then wheeled to 
meet the rush of I'iute. In the mean- 
time, Sanderson had checked at the 

sound of Joan't voice, and. raising his 

startled glance to see her up above, be 
began to climb in her direction. 

As he Came within reach Joan struck 
at. him, hut she could not beat him off. 
and he gained a footing On the loof. 
In anotii. i second his aim was about 
her, and, m spite of her struggles, he 
forced her to the edge of the roof and 
chopped into the patio with her. 

They fell to their knees, and, break 

i 1 1 tc away from him, Joan attempted to 
run. Rut he clutched her quickly and 

hurtled her hack through the french 

windows into the room from which he 
had emerged with Piute. 

"You're not. getting out of this 

hacienda," In; snarled. 

Out. in tin- patio Larry was fighting in 
hurricane syfe, and he crushed I'mte 
under a rain of punches, Then he fore 

iiitu the- loom where Sanderson was 

holding Joan, and, hurling himself at 

tin- rancher, In- swung him away from 

ill and landed a blow that knocked 

the crook to the far wall of the apart- 

Piute and the other man had rc- 
rad, however, and they stormed in 
from tin- courtyard — both of them un- 
armed, but both eager to renew the 

Meanwhile, the uproar had carried to 
the ears of Sanderson's entire; gang, and 
were running from all directions. 
Bui before they could reach the scene 
of the fracas a fresh alarm was tai ad 
by a look out at the main gateway, and 


the sentry's shout diverted them from 
the hard-pvessed Ranger. 

"The Stanton gang! Headed this 
way in a body! Close the gate!" 

Fist and Six-Gun. 

TEX and his comrades were sweeping 
across the range like a troop of 
avenging centaurs, and they 
whooped shrilly as they realised that 
their approach had been discovered and 
the main gate of the hacienda was being 
closed in their faces. 

"Lariats, bovs, and over the wall!" 
yelled Tex. "We're gonna get Miss 
Joan outa here if it takes our last 
drop o' blood! An' save a bullet for 
that spy in' Ranger '." 

The men uncoiled their lassos and 
flim" them deftly towards every avail- 
able point on the parapet where a noose 
could be hitched. Within a few second' 
they were hauling themselves to the top 
of the stone harrier. 

Standing by three horses that he had 
secured, Rusty realised that he was in 
imminent danger of being caught be- 
tween two fires, and he skipped off at 
the double, running round the patio to 
seek shelter. Ho was out of harms 
way with onlv a moment to spare, for, 
immediately after he had gone to cover, 
there was an outburst of shooting. 

The majority of Sanderson's hirelings 

were in tin' courtyard, and they bll 
at the figures of Joan Stanton's men as 
the attackers appeared on the parapet 
A cowboy next to Tex dropped back 
from the' wall, and two more fell, but 
the remainder leapt into the patio and 
stabbed the gloom with the flame of 

then- six-guns, plugging away a: 

clodding figures of the ruffianly ranch- 

Aware that her men were at hand. 
Joan -tailed for I lie french windows of 
i he room iii which Larry was lighting 
Piute and the other gangster, bin 

Sanderson had regained his wits, and 

he ran towards her and caught her 
about the Waist. 

"Lc( me go'" the girl shrieked. 


Sanderson was dragging her nut of 
tin- room, and Larry heard her eric, 
saw her plight. Hut he was in the throes 

of a desperate battle with the scoun- 
drelly rancher's two minions, and could 

not go to her revue, until they I 

accounted for. 

Piute was struck to tho floor with a 
smashing righl bander to the jaw. The 
man knocked Larry spinning, but. 
I he Ranger came hack at him. and 
landed a punch that propelled the fellow- 
out through I lu- trench windows and 
into the trough of the patio fountain. 
The fellow gathered himself together, 
and prepared to rush back into the 
room, but Rusty appeared from no- 
where, caught him a prodigious buffet 
and toppled him into the trough again. 

Larrv wheeled and ran into tho hall 
of tie- hacii ads to so Sanderson drag- 
ging Joan up the stairs. The \oung 
Ranger -pel in pursuit, vaulted over 
the banisters and landed at the heels 
Then he gripped 
Sanderson by the shoulder, and hauled 
him away from the girl. 

'I he two men clinched, and stumbled 
headlong to the- foot of tho stab- 
and, watching their struggling fig! 
with awe, Joan moved slowly down 
tcpa. And as In- gazed upon the 
Ranger and crook she witnessed R c 
savage a combat as could have been 

Sanderson's gun had fallen from its 
holsier a minute or two previously, and 
he had no advantage over Larrv. e\.. it 
January utii, 1933. 


that !ic landed uppermost as they 
plunged into the hall. He proceeded to 
reap full benefit from the position, and. 
with hands clenched on the Ranger's 
throat, he banged the youngster's head 
on the floor again and again. 

Dazed, half-strangled, Larry contrived 
to muster up all his strength and break 
the man's hold. Succeeding, he threw 
the man aside, and scrambled on to his 
two legs. 

Sanderson rose also, and, lifting a 
chair, he heaved it at Larry. The 
Ranger jumped aside, and the piece of 
furniture crashed into the wall, but 
ere Larry could put himself on the 
defensive again Sanderson sprang at 
him and hit him flush in the mouth. 

With head knocked backwards. Larry 
went flving across a table and thudded 
to the floor. Sanderson came dodging 
round the table and aimed a kick at 
him, but the Ranger grabbed his ankle 
and pulled him down. 

The pair of them struggled up once 
more, then rushed at each other with 
hunched knuckles. Each was out to 
bear the other down by shock tactics, 
and Sanderson ready to use foul methods 
and fair. 

Larry smashed the rancher against the 
wall with a terrific right-hander, but 
Sanderson hurled himself at the 
voungster again and battered him fur- 
iously. It was an attack that must have 
overwhelmed most men, yet Larry stood 
up to it without giving an inch, and hit 
back at his assailant in dogged style. 

Sanderson was wearing himself down. 
Larry on the other hand was almost as 
fresh as when he had struck his lirst 
blow, and. with stamina unimpaired, he 
rapidly assumed the offensive. 
• Out in the patio, the shooting was 
beginning to die down, but. involved 
in their own set-to, Ranger and crook 
were scarcely aware of what was going 
on around them. Larry was even ig- 
norant that his life was being threat- 
ened by a man at the top of the stairs. 

The man was the fellow who had been 
on guard outside Joan's room, and, in 
full possession of his wits asrain, he drew 
a gun and pointed it down towards 
Larry's moving figure. Before ho could 
(.nil the trigger, however, a random 
luil lot shattered a window close by, and 
ft ruck him in the head. 

The gangster plunged lifelessly down 
the stairs, and Larry continued his 
battle with Sanderson, piling into the 
crook with both lists and staggering him 
with a volley of punches. With face 
badly hammered. Sanderson ducked into 
a clinch and tried to wrestle, but the 
Ranger swept him off his feet and hurled 
him to the floor with a force that drove 
the breath out of his body. 

Sanderson rose shakily, and Larry 
Stepped closely to him. With his eyes 
fastened on the crook's jaw he drew back 
his fist and then let loose a jolt, that 
-red the man's wits completely. 
The rancher fell, and Larry stood sway- 
ing over him 

Larry moved through to the room 
where Piute lay. he took the half-breed 
by the scruff of the neck and dragged 
him across the threshold into the hall. 
Then he found some rope, and started 
to tie Sanderson and his lieutenant. 

He was engaged in this task when Tex 
and his men swarmed into the house 
triumphantly, the last of the Sanderson 
gang having been wiped out of exist' D 

" Miss Joan," Tex exclaimed, as he 
clapped eyes on the girl, "Miss Joan 

Ife slopped abruptly as he saw the 
kneeling limine of Larry, and with a 
January Hth, 1U33. 


cry of rage lie aimed his six-gun at the 
Ranger. In another instant the young- 
ster must have been drilled, but Joan 
dashed forward to intervene. 

She knew now, beyond all doubt, that 
Larry was a friend, and there was fierce 
restraint in the grip of her hand as she 
clutched her henchman's arm. 

"Put up that gun, Tex!" she gasped. 

"Aw, let me take a shot at him," 
Tex pleaded. He's the mangiest 
critter that ever crawled, ma'am. He's 
a snoopin' Ranger spy, Miss Joan -" 

"Don't. Tex," the girl broke in. 
"Put up that gun, I say. Larry saved 
me from Sanderson!" 

Outside in the patio, a solitary figure 
was moving to and fro among the bodies 
of Sanderson's fallen gangsters. It was 
the figure of Rusty, and one by one lie 
gathered up the guns of the men. The 
weapons were hot with firing, and they 
sizzled audibly as he deposited them in 
the fountain trough. 

It was while Rusty was thus amusing 
himself that the sound of hoof-beats 
reacted his ears, and a few seconds later 
a body of horsemen swept into the court- 
yard. With a whoop. Rusty recognised 
Captain Clay and the rest of A Company 
of the Texas Rangers, and he ran for- 
ward to greet them as they dismounted. 

"S-s-say, what brought you h-h-hero, 
chief?" he demanded of Clay. 

"This Stanton gang," Clay replied 
grimly. "After I got your cable re- 
porting the disappearance of Larry Mad- 
deu, I allowed I'd clean up that mob in 
style, so I rounded up every man 
available and hit the trail." 

He looked around at the muddled 
forms strewn about the patio. 

"Looks kinda like you'd had fire- 
works here," he added. "What hap- 
pened, Rusty?" 

"Follow me," 
the whole party 
house, Clay and 

They crowded into the hall of the 
hacienda, and, as they saw Joan and her 
companions, they covered them threaten- 

"Drop your irons," Clay ordered. 
"First man that makes a move will get 
filled full of holes." 

Larry ro?e in the background. His 
face was bruised, but he was grinning. 

"Hallo, there. Larry Madden," Cap- 
tain Clay greeted him. "Been in a 
tough spot, haven't you ? Arc you still 
as fond of danger as you were?" 

"Well, I had to find out who killed 
Jim and Sam Dunning." Larry rejoined. 

Clay turned his glance towards Joan 

"I thought you knew that before you 
started, Larry," he said. "It was this 
girl, wasn't it?" 

"No, she didn't do those killings," 
the youngster answered. "There's the 
men you want. Rusty and I heard 'em 
admit everything." 

He had pointed to the bound forms of 
Sanderson and Piute, and Rusty con- 
firmed the accusation with a vehement 

"Th-that's right, c-captain," he 
agreed. "They framed Miss St-Stanton." 

The two accomplices were hauled to 
their feet and led away, Joan's men and 
the Range",.-, mingling with one another 
as they tramped out into the patio. 
.Joan, however, did not follow them at 
once, and neither did Larry. 

"Are you going to let me take you 
home?" the youngster asked. 

"The only home I know is at the can- 
yon," Joan answered. "If you feel like 
riding out that way, Larry " 

The young Ranger shook his head. 

was the answer, and 
trooped across to the 
his men with drawn 

Every Tuesday 

"No, siree," he interposed. "I didn't 
mean that home. I meant the horns 
I'm gonna build for you in El Paso." 

Joan drew nearer to him. Her eyes 
were shining like stars. 

"Larry," she said breathlessly, "is — 
is that meant to be — a proposal of mar- 

"What do you think?" he retorted 
with a smile, and, taking her in his 
arms, he kissed her tenderly. 

Turning back into I he house at that 
moment, Rusty saw them in their em- 
brace, and fairly beamed. Then he 
slipped forth again to acquaint Joan's 
men and his fellow-Rangers with what 
he had seen. 

His news was received with satisfac- 
tion on all sides, and soon the hacienda 
was echoing the chorus of a cow-camp 
ballad, in which Rusty's voice figured 

"We're all pals together, 
Comrades, birds of a feather, 
Rootin' pals, tootin' pals, 
Scootin' pals, shootin' pals " 

(By permission of Radio Pictures, Ltd., 
starring Tom Keene and Julie Haydon.) 

(Continued from page 2.) 

A Film of Strange Happenings. 

Some of you have already seen tho 
United Artists' picture, " White 
Zombie," during its special run in 
London. But for those of you who may 
be awaiting its general release, it will 
be of interest to know that the film is 
based on the tales of the Zombies of 
Haiti, or the " walking dead men " of 
the island. 

To the question whether the dead can 
be raised again to life, intelligence 
answers "impossible." Yet travellers re- 
turning from the island of Haiti relate 
how people who are corpses can be seen 
shuffling through the cane fields, only 
half-alive, as it were, and obedient to 
their masters, the hougans or voodoo 
high priests. 

One writer who has written a book on 
Haitian sorcery, declares: 

"A Zombie is neither a ghost nor yet 
a person who had been raised from the 
dead. It is a soulless human corpse, 
stiil dead, but taken from the grave and 
endowed by sorcery with a mechanical 
semblance of life. It is a dead body 
which can. be made to walk and eat and 
move as though it were alive. Peoplo 
who have the power to create Zombies 
go to a fresh grave, dig up the body 
before it has time to decompose, gal- 
vanise it into movement, and then make 
it a servant or slave, occasionally for the 
commission of crime, but more often 
simply as a drudge for dull, heavy 

The Government of Haiti recognises 
the Zombie practice, and has a penal 
code section referring to it. The film 
itself is weird, like "Dracula" and 
others of its kind. Madge Bellamy 
plays the part of a young girl brought 
to life by Zombie soreei-y, and Belu 
Lugosi is the voodoo high priest. 

Hailstone Bombardment. 

Hailstones are not uncommon in 
California in winter. But they came 
down with such force and in such great 
quantities during the filming of a new 
Buck Jones picture that the star and 
the rest of tho company had to scamper 
for shelter, and work was held up for 
the day. The hailstones were the sizo 
of hen f s eggs. 

Every Tuesday 



Janaarj J4th, inss. 




(Continued from page 18.) 

in Berserk fury, whilst the fans almost 
screamed in their welter of excitement. 
Then a vicious right hook caught Jimmy 
almost flush on the point. A mist 
gathered over his eyes, hammers were 
beating on his brain. 

He sagged to the canvas. He saw 
and heard the referee counting over 
him. He had done his best. He 
couldn't get up before the fateful ten. 
But he must ! He must, somehow, for 
that live hundred dollars, for the money 
that good old Spike had put up — his 

" Eight — nine " 

A snarl came from the Bruiser's crim- 
son lips. The Cyclone Kid was up. A 
miracle. The guy was game and 
Tougii. Well, another punch, another 
dandy right-hand wallop, would put 
him down for keeps. The right hand 
came over, but the lithe figure in front 
of him swerved. The Bruiser over- 
toppled with the weight of the blow, 
and a second later he had fallen lo the 
canvas, his full weight on his dexter 

He rose with a grimace of pain he 
could not control, and rushed after the 
man he guessed he had beaten. The 
roar of the crowd was in his ears. Vic- 
tory ! Pains were shooting up that arm, 
but just one wallop 

He staggered back, rocked to his 
heels by a piston-like left to his swol- 
len mouth, The fans shrieked their joy. 
Never had an apparently beaten boxer 
recovered so amazingly. They could not 
guess that Jimmy, in a, split second 
after his rise on the count of nine, had 
heard a startled cry from the ringside, 
had seen in a flash the pale features of 
Kittv. with Benton by her side. Kill v 
free ! 

The spectacle came to him as some 
potent strength and life-giving draught 
from the realms of magic. His eyes, 
glazed a few moments ago, blazed with 
the fury of his old fighting spirit. 

As the Bruiser rushed again, panting, 
snarling, Jimmy ducked, and his left 
once more" met the Bruiser's mouth. 


The blow was like the kick of a mule, 
and Barnes, snorting with pain, thrust 
his gloved fists to his face to cover. 

It was Jimmy's golden chance, the 
first yet fully presented to him. The 
Bruiser's swarthy body, quivering, was 
wide open as a gate for the blow that 
killed poor Lefty. 

But no thought of that tragedy was 
in the mind of the Cyclone Kid. If 
thought, as they say, is swifter than 
light, then Jimmy sensed in that frac- 
tion of time the fact that Bruiser 
Barnes was tough as oak and about as 
hard to kill. Whether or not such 
lightning thought flashed on his mind, 
Jimmy put all he had into the right 
hand punch that he unleashed to the 
Bruiser's heart. All the new strength 
that had so suddenly and dramatically 
flooded his being, all the fighting fury 
that somehow had been missing from 
him in the early rounds. 

As the blow struck home, a great gasp 
came from the crowd. The fans shot 
from their seals, spell-bound; their 
clamour hushed: They saw the swarthy 
figure of the Bruiser quiver like a 
buffeted ship, then topple backwards 
and lav prone. 

The referee counted off the fateful 
seconds as in duty bound, although a 
child could have known that the 
Bruiser was both deaf and motionless. 
Watching him, Jimmy, his limbs 
quivering, the new strength spent, 
thought suddenly and fearsomely of 
another form that had Iain at his feet- 
like this. The cold sweat gathered on 
his brow. . . . 

"Ten — and out.'' 

Clamour broke forth anew from the 
crowd as the referee raised the left arm 
of the Cyclone Kid in token of victory. 
A second later, an alarmed cry from his 
lips, he caught Jimmy's sagging figure 
in his arms. 

"Out on his feet," he gasped. "What 
a battler!" 

The .seconds dived into the ring, and 
a few moments later victor and van- 
quished were being carried with rough 
tenderness to the dressing-room. The 
crowd, on tiptoes of excitement, would 
not leave the stadium until the an- 
nouncer, ten minutes afterwards, crawled 
into the ring. 

"Both the boys who've put up this 
great fight, ladies and gentlemen, are 

Every Tuesday 

O.K. The Bruiser has just come round, 
and I'm glad to say that he's not- 
well, ladies and gentlemen, he'll be all 
right in a day or two. A tough guy. 
The C3'clone Kid is fit and smiling. 
What a fighter, ladies and gentlemen 

The cheers that burst forth at this 
moment might have been heard in Lon- 
don — as a descriptive writer put it 

• .«.<■ 

When Jimmy recovered in the dress- 
ing-room he found Kitty clasping his 
hands. And Kitty's eyes told him every- 
thing that was first to his heart. 

Benton supplied the rest. 

An hour previously Tomelli had yielded 
to Hawkyard's "persuasion," realising 
that Wong, the Chink he fondly believed 
"knew no English," was paid to talk. 
.For Tomelli and a fellow-Italian had 
slain Zenias, although the dead Greek 
— to do him justice — had not known the 
identity of the concealed killer. In 
baffled rage of frustrated desire he had 
attempted to fasten the crime on the 
girl who had resisted his villainous plot. 
A scoundrel even in the grip of the 
Great Destroyer. 

Justice was not cheated this time. 

But the glove game has been cheated 
of a champion, for Jimmy Milligan hap- 
pily married now-, is in the motor in- 
dustry for keeps, and although he may 
be missing big purses, he is getting along 
very nicely. 

After all, when your wife declares that 
you mustn't fight for a living — well, with 
a wife like Kitty, what's a fellow to do 
but obey ? 

Spike, a regular visitor to the Milligan 
household, and a prosperous manager 
again, hopes that one day he'll manage 
to persuade Mrs. Milligan that a 
fighter like Jimmy ought to take his 
rightful place in the world. There are 
others who think like Spike — quite a 

Anyway, Jimmy is about as happy as 
any young fellow could hope to be— 
and the rest he leaves to Kitty. If he 
dreams of championship honours — well, 
he keeps these dreams to himself at 

(By permission of the British Lion Film 

Corporation, Ltd., starring Lloyd Hughes 

and Marion Shilling.) 



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No. 684. 


JANUARY 21st, 1933. 


Every Tuesday 

All letters to the Editor should be addressed to BOY'S CINEMA, Room 163, The Fleetway House, Farringdon Street, London, E.C.4 


" Hell's Highway." 
Duke Ellis, Richard Dix; Johnny 
Ellis, Tom Brown; Mrs. Ellis, Louise 
Carter; Mary Ellen, Rochclle Hudson; 
Blacksnake Skinner, G. Henry Gordon; 
I'op-E.vo .Jackson, Warner Richmond; 
Blink Maxie. Sandy Roth; Matthew the 
Hermit, Charles Middleton ;, 
Stanley Fields; Romeo Schullz, Jed 
Kiley: Hype, Bert Starkoy ; Spiked 
Bob Perry; Billings, Oscau Apfel ; 
IV.if-Mutc, John Lester Johnson. 

"The Man From Arizona." 

Kent Rogers, Rex Bell; Lupita. 
Xeoma Judge; Aloe Ginsberg, Nat 
('air; Jerry Sutton. Lex Lindsay; Judge 
Mi Sweeney, James Marcus; Buck 
Gallagher, Henry Scdley ; Collins, 
Charles King; Sheriff Hartman, John 
Beck; Mrs. Sutton. Georgie Cooper. 

Making Sure of His Admirers. 

Andy Devine. whoso comedies en- 
liven the screen, has another interest 
besides acting. Being an expert 
swimmer, he is a life-guard at one of 
Los Angeles beaches where he is the 
idol of several hundreds of youngsters 
who make it a practice to play there 
every Saturday. 

With an instinct for business, Andy 
has organised them into an Andy 
Devine Club, and each Saturday as they 
assemble, he mounts a box and roars 
in tones which can be heard a good 
distance away: 

"Who is the greatest movie star in 
the world? Clark Gable?" 

"No." shriek the kids. 

"Who then?" demands Andy. 

"Andy Devine." yell the youngsters 
with one voice and Andy well satisfied 
with himself then climbs down from his 

Sam Goldfish. 

A friend walked up to Eddie Cantor 
in the studio the other day and said: 

"Have you any goldfish?" 

"Nope." replied Eddie. "Nary a 

Then on second thought his eyes 
widened roguishly and ho remarked: 

"Yes, I have the biggest one in cap- 
tivity. Here he is. Meet Mr. Goldfish." 

And with that ho turned towards 
Samuel Goldwyn, whoso real name is 

(.Unspoiled by Fame. 

Despite his immense popularity, Jackie 
Cooper remains unspoiled and still re- 
tains a typical boy's outlook on life. 
His main concern at present is not 
gaining more admirers, but how ho can 
acquire one more "horse-pistol" to add 
to his large collection of "guns." 

When he was appearing in "A Fellow 
Needs a Friend" with "Chic" Sale he 
had occasion to go on "location" to a 
small lake north of Hollywood. There 
he cut a willow pole and, with a piece 
of string and a, bent pin. caught his 
first fish— a tinv perch. Then he so- 
und others. He kept them in a pail 
January 21st, 1933. 



He served time in the State gaol to gain the 
confidence of a gang of crooks. The story 
of a cowboy prize-fighter who went 
through fire and danger to uphold Justice. 

A plot to blow up a speedboat — a thrilling 
race with death as the stakes. A grip- 
ping story of a daredevil who helped bis 
father win a contract and smash a gang 
of crooks. Starring Richard Talmadge, 
Charles Sellon and Donald Keith. 


The concluding chapters of our grand 

serial of thrills in Darkest Africa : 


Starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jun., 

and Cecelia Parker. 
There is also a special announcement that 
contains some splended news for all 
readers. Order your copy NOW ! 

of water at home for several days, named 
each one and then became terribly 
upset when his mother suggested that 
the fish had better be cooked and served 
up in state for his dinner. 

Following that picture Jackie went on 
a personal tour which took him out of 
California for the first time. While in 
St. Louis he received tho thrill of his 
life when a girl, who was a champion 
pistol shot, presented him with a gun 
for his collection. The same day he had 
a ride on the largest elephant in the 

lie celebrated his ninth birthday last 
September and in addition to inviting 
the youngsters of screen celebrities, he 

rode down the street and asked everyone 
he met to come to his party. Among 
his presents were a marine clock which 
rings out the hour with a ship"s bell; 
a toy motor-boat from Joau Crawford, 
and a deep-sea fish-pole from his mother. 
In his back yard he has rigged up a 
shack which he calls his "clubhouse. '" 
There he keeps his toys, athletic equip- 
ment and other paraphernalia. All tho 
youngsters in the neighbourhood meet 
there regularly and have great times in 
playing at Red Indians and oilier 
games when Jackie is not at the studio. 
Yes, he is a " regular feller" right 
enough in the opinion of his chums, 
and anybody who doubts it would 'no 
liable to get a ripe tomato behind tho 
car ! 

Radio's Next Air Thriller. 

Liie success of "The Lost Squadron " 
has encouraged Radio Pictures to begin 
the making of another air thriller. 

The present title is "Heroes for Hiie," 
and Hollywood's stunt men wilt be given 
. to do to keep the excitement in 
the picture running high. Three of the 
n's most fearless aviators have 
a Inady been chosen. They are Duke 
Green, who specialises in fire thrills; 
Harvey Perry, whose forte is diving 
from a height; and Buddy Mason, who 
will do almost anything on the edge of 
a skyscraper. 

Answers to Questions. 

I was greatly interested to, know, 
"Old Reader" (Harefield). that you 
have been taking tho "B.C." regularly 
for the past twelve years. I much 
regret, however, that I am unable to 
adopt your suggestion of offering a prize 
to any reader who can produce an art 
place older than the one you have sent. 
I trust this will not lessen your interest 
in the paper and as you would doubtless 
like to preserve your photo of Harry 
Carey — given awav with the issue for 
February 7th, 1920, I shall be pleased 
to return the art plate if you will kindly 
write again giving your real name and 
full postal address. 

So far "Chic" Sale has not disclosed 
lis age, John (Belfast). He prefers 
for the present, at any rate, to keep it 
secret, but in appearance he is a young- 
ish-looking man though in films he 
appears in bearded parts. For a number 
of years he was on the vaudeville stage 
in America and then began acting in 
silent films. In addition to a number 
of short subjects, he has appeared in 
"Star Witness." "The Expert," "When 
a hollow Needs a Friend" and 
Si ranger in Town" among other 
talkies. He was born in Huron, South 

Clark Gable was born in Cadi/. Ohio, 
of Dutch parents, Robert (Belfast) 
His first association with the theatre 
was as a property boy and afterwards 

came his •■'nance to act. William ITau.s 

was born on January 1st, 1900 in 
Staunton. Virginia, 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 3 

They made Duke Ellis one of a chain-gang of convicts employed, under horrible 

conditions, to construct a new country road— and and he had contrived a daring way 

of escape when his young brother arrived, one of a fresh batch of prisoners, and changed 

all his plans. An unforgettable drama, starring Richard Dix and Tom Brown. 

The Chain Qang. 

ANEW road was in course of con- 
struction — a country road which, 
when completed, was to provide a 
straight and level highway from the 
town of Vulcan to the town of Liberty 
in i f>e State of Washington. 

" Liberty Road " it was already desig- 
D tted by the authorities, and then 
irony in the name; for William Billings, 
contractor, was employing convict labour 
to ensure a satisfactory profit on the cut- 
throat tender he had submitted. 

Ninety-three white men and twenty- 
one blacks had been placed at hi3 dis- 
for a consideration advantageous 
to himself and to the State, but of no 
benefit to the men. And day in and day 
out the convicts toiled with picks and 
shovels and other tools while armed 
Is stood over them, and Blacksnake 
Skinner, captain of the guards, was at 
hand with a whip which had earned 
hi/n his nickname. 
Liberty Road I Cut through the hills, 

built up over the valleys, but vet so 
formless a thing that the notice-boards 
icr end of it -'Lined almost absurd. 
For the month was July, and the notice- 
boards proclaimed that the road ■.. 

be open to the public in November. 

Ninety-three white men and tvwnty- 
one blacks, toiling day by day tinder a 
as sun and confined at night in 
'ike wagons, where they slept with 
"kles chained to their bunks. 
There were four of these wagons, and 
the white men occupied thne of them, 
negroes the other one. But the 
ds slept comfortably in a big bunk- 
and Billings drove his ear b 
wards and forwards Ixtween the 
of Vulean and the camp. 

At fi-e o'clock iti the morning of a 
day that wa to prove eventful, Pop- 


of the guards and the first astir with 
his rifle, went into the pen where the 
cage-like wagons (too 

"Come on!" he bellowed. "Gettin' 
up !" 

Bare feet were projected, slowly, 
reluctantly, over the ends of the bunks 
so that long chains attached to leg iron3 
that encircled bare ankles could be un- 
locked, and Pop-Eve opened the iron 
door of the nearest "pie-wagon," as the 
convicts called their sleeping quarters. 

One end of each chain was unlocked 
and the men sat up to pull their shackles 
through iron rings in the framework 
of the bunk". 

I'| and shine!" barked Pop-Eye 
U he went out — leaving the door wide 
open— to take up a strategic position 
near a (reel; that ran through the 
enclosure and the wash-tubs that littered 
the ground. 

Other guard* arrived with rifles 
under their arms to deal with the Other 
wagons; Pop-Eye's immediate concern 
TO with the end one. 

Duke Ellis was the fir-; of its occu- 
pants to climb down from hi3 bunk, 
which was immediately over Blink 
Maxie's and opposite the one in which 
Romeo Schultz was propped on his 
elbows studying several photographs of 
well-known screen actresses pinned to 
the woodwork above his head. 

Duke Ellis was a tall and powerfully 
built man in the early thirties, broad 
of shoulder, strong of chin, hand 
after a fashion of his own, <ind afraid 
of nothing. He looked across at the 
photographs with a grin on his clean- 
shaven face. 

fin one of tliern was scran led. in ink; 

"To I o ( onnie 

•r : "With love to Romeo. GwilL" 

"Diil yon really know all these dames, 
Romeo." he inquired sarcastically. 

"Did I know 'em?" retorted Schultz. 
"They're all signed, ain't they?" 

"It's a good thing they got you locked 
up in a chain gang!" remarked Duke, 
and went down the steps to wash. 

Other men followed him, and they 
took it in turns to use the one tub, 
the one piece of soap, and the one 
towel, provided for each wagon. 

Duke, who was rather particular. 
knelt beside the creek to clean his 
teeth, and Matthew the Hermit knelt 
beside him. 

Matthew the Hermit was an extra- 
ordinary man who might very well hare 
been an evangelist, judging by his facial 
•I | ipi * ranee and manner. Ffe had a 
moustache and a straggling beard. 
the blue eve., of a fanatic, and an irri- 
tating habit of speaking in a scriptural 
style. But appearances were ever de- 
ceptive, arid he was serving a term 
for bigamy. 

liness," he said solemnly to 
Duke, "is next to Godliness." 

"What a man !" laughed Duke. I 
with hi- private toothbrush. 
"So the ladies have told me," boasted 

"How many women were yon really 
married to at tl e Bame tune!'" inflj 

"How rn.inv banks did vou realty 

"Never more than one at a time'" 
"It take- a lot of nerve to rob a 

"It takes a lot more to keep three 
wives happy '" 

Mi'lhew raised his hand after the 

of a parson. 
"Tea, brother!" he said lugubriously. 
.1 inilarj isj ifci 

In a long shed \vh->rc the white 
convicts fed, two men were putting 
tin plates upon the tables which 
stretched from one end of the structure 
to the other. In a room fitted up as a 
kitchen, attached to Skinner's office, 
a favoured convict was frying eggs in 
a pan — but the eggs were for Billings 
and the guards. 

A man named Burgess was cook for 
the chain gang, and he was busy in 
a kitchen which opened out of the long 
shed, cutting loaves of bread into thick 
slices with a keen edged knife and an 
air of ferocity. 

A negro prisoner who enjoyed the 
doubtful privilege of acting as his as- 
sistant looked up from a bowl of batter 
which was to be converted into flap- 
jacks — for Billings and the guards. 

"You sure give me de willies wid dat 
knife," he said nervously. 

"I always wanted to be a surgeon," 
confided Burgess, slicing away at the 
bread. "You know — cut up people." 

"Did yo' study for one?' inquired 
the black. s 

"No," growled Burgess. "I only got 
to the third grade when I was drafted 
into the army." 

W itfa the knife poised in midair as 
though about to slit a throat, he turned 
and stared through the dirty panes of a 
window beside him. The convicts were 
marching past, in two long rows, carry- 
ing one end of their chains which were 
attached to their ankles. 

They were washed, now, and dressed 
in the livery of their servitude — shirts 
and trousers of blue denim, the shifts 
open at the neck and decorated at the 
back with huge targets of white and 
black rings so that should they try to 
escape they would be easy to shoot. 

The ankle-irons to which the chains 
were attached were known as "pick- 
irons," and had a point that curved 
downwards in the front and a point that 
curved upwards at the back, so that 
should their wearers try to run they 
must, spin in or even break their ankle 
as the front point bit into the ground, 
and at the same time suffer agonies from 
the rear point as it pierced the thigh. 

"Look after that coffee." barked Bur- 
gess, "they're comin' in!" 

The Sweat Box. 

the camp in his touring-car. He 
made it a practice of having 
breakfast at the same time as those 
who worked for him, though he had 
it, in his office — sometimes alone, some- 
times witli Blacksnake Skinner, who 
was in his pay as well as the Govern- 
ment's, and had his uses. 

Billings was a hard-featured man, a 
brute by nature, cunning, avaricious, 
and without a scruple. Skinner was 
a lean and swarthy ruffian, black of 
hair, eyebrows, and moustache. II is 
eyes were green and evil, and his face 
was heavily lined. He might have 
been a murderer, but he was captain of 
the guards. 

Having glanced at his papers on 
his desk, Billings went to the door of 
his office to watch the procession of 
chained men to the shed where they 
were to breakfast. Skinner came up 
with an assistant who altered some 
figures on a blackboard attached to 
the outer wall, and Billings scowled. 

The trouble about convict labour was 
that as men finished their sentence they 
left the road to regain their freedom. 
The figures on the board changed too 
often. There were still thirty-two 
mules, one hundred and fifty picks, 
a corresponding number of shovels, 

January 21st, 1833. 


thirty sledges, and so forth, but between 
darkness and daylight he had lost men. 

Angrily he strode down the step to 

"That means I've got ten men less 
on the job," he growled, jerking a 
thumb at the blackboard. 

'Don't worry," said Skinner smoothly. 
"You'll get plenty of work done." 

"You don't understand," complained 
Billings. "I underbid my nearest com- 
petitor by nearly half to get this con- 
tract, and it stands to reason that I've 
got to get twice as much work out of 
convict labour." 

"You're doing all right," said 
Skinner, with a wink. 

"Umph!" grunted the contractor; 
and did not invite him to breakfast in 
the office. 

The white convicts, by this tunc, were 
seated at the tables in the long shed; 
the blacks were in their own separate 

Blink Maxic, a moon-faced, elderly 
man, who wore spectacles because he 
was practically blind without them, 
tasted the coffee which had been splashed 
into his tin mug and made a grimace. 

"You'll eat anything, won't you?" he 
said scornfully to an ugly fellow oppo- 
site, who was devouring bread as though 
lie were starved. 

"I'll eat anything that don't bite me 
first." responded the ugly one. 

When the meal was over, according 
to schedule, a guard at the door 
shouted : 

"Getthf up! Gettin' up!" 

The men rose, but one of them, a 
narrow-eyed man named Hype, covertly 
picked up a spoon and slipped it into 
the neck of his shirt. He was serving 
a long term for manslaughter, and he 
had suffered much from Blacksnake 
Skinner's whip. A spoon need not 
always be a spoon, and even a captain 
of the guard was not immortal. 

Out from the shed into the blazing 
sunshine marched the chained men, 
holding their chains, walking slowly to 
avoid pain, and singing as they 
marched : 

" When John Henry was a little 
Sitting on his father's knee, 
Pointed down to the ground 
At a small piece of steel, 
Saying: 'That'll be the death 
of me !' " 

On their way put of the camp they 
acquired pickaxes and shovels in their 
stride, which they carried over their 
shoulders :o a section of the unmade 
road where work with "jacks" — as they 
called tin pickaxes — was necessary. 

There in a long, winding row they 
swung the picks, breaking up rocky 
earth while the sun blazed down upon 
them and sweat poured from their faces ; 
and they sang as they worked, so that 
no man should falter, a song that 
■ I as interminable as their task. 

" They took John Henry to the 
Gave him a ten-pound hammer 

A young fellow named Carter, who 
looked hardly strong enough to be a 
hardened criminal, swayed on his feet, 
.-tared dazedly at his hands:, which were 
raw and bleeding, and suddenly dropped 
bis pick. 

Duke, who was working near him, saw 
but did not appear to see. A guard, 
who carried a whip instead of a rifle, 
swooped down on the Offender, 

"Keep the lick there, Carter!" he 

"I can't," protested the sufferer, ex- 

Every Tuesday 

hibiting his lacerated palms. "My 
hands arc falling apart!" 
The rawhide thong of the whip 
ilcd about the boy's bare neck, and 
feebly he picked up the fallen "jack." 
The song had not been interrupted ; 
Carter swung his pick again, though 
he was in agony. 

A few minutes later he crumpled up 
and fell face downwards; and the 
guard was standing over his prostrate 
form, hesitating to slash at him again 
when Skinner came striding up. 

"What's the trouble?" he demanded 

" Learning a new prisoner we won't 
stand for loafing," replied the guard, 
himself more than half afraid of 
Skinner's wrath. 

The captain raised his own whip, the 
thong of which was longer and more 
formidable than the guard's, and Duke, 
without stopping work, ventured a 

"The kid's soft, captain," he said. 
''Why don't you give him a couple of 
days to get in shape?" 

Skinner scowled, but he knew Duke's 
power with the other men. 

"Sure," he said; "he probably needs 
a good tonic! Take him down to the 
hospital, Burt, and give him the best 
we've got." 

The guard dragged the unfortunate 
Carter to his feet and went off with 
him along the road. Duke watched 
distrustfully as ho wielded his pick — 
and Skinner swooped on a negro who 
had deserted a team of mules to 6tand 
and stare. 

"Hi, you baboon!" ho shouted. 
"Don't you know better than to leave 
them mules out in the 6un?" 

" Yas sah, boss, yas suh," said the 
black, hurriedly returning to • his 
charges. "Mules cost forty dollars a 
head, and convicts don' cost nothin' ! 
Cm on here !" 

Far down the road, in an isolated 
position, stood a structure much the 
size and shape of a telephone box, but 
made of corrugated iron with a door 
bearing padlocked bars top and bottom ; 
and it was to this structure, which 
Skinner had called the "hospital," but 
which was more generally known as the 
' at box," that Carter was taken. 
The guard unlocked and opened the 
narrow door and thrust his half-fainting 
captive inside. 

From the roof a wide leather collar 
hung 'on a chain ; on the floor, at the 
back of the box, was a thick block of 
with two semi-circular cuts in it 
to take a man's heels; and iron bands 
were hinged to the wood. 

"Come on, get your feet in there!" 
commanded the guard. And Carter, 
staggering backwards, managed to obey. 
The collar was passed round his throat 
and padlocked ; the bands were pad- 
locked round his ankles. He could 
move his hands, but his feet were fixed, 
and he could not move his head more 
than a few inches without choking him- 
self. . . 3 _ 

" Well, young fellow," jeered the 
guard, as he backed out from the box 
and closed the door, "you won't catch 
a cold in there." 

The door was locked, and no air could 
get in or out, except through the cracks 
between the hinges. Burt went back to 
his former position behind the chain- 

Ilvpe, the convict who had filched the 
6poon, was working with a different 
gang engaged in breaking rocks with 
hammers, and already ho had managed 
surreptitiously to flatten the spoon out 
of shape. But it did not yot look any- 
thing like the dagger it was intended 
to become. 

Every Tuesday 

" Where's Carter ? " 

MATTHEW the Hermit sat on the 
driving-seat of a tip-cart which 
was being loaded with rocky 
earth, dug by Duke and his ^ com- 
panions, when the sheriff of Vulcan 
approached with a stranger, who also 
wore a German-silver star upon hi6 

The cart stood between these two and 
the convicts who sang as they toiled, 
but the stranger pointed across at a 
burly fellow who was plying his pick 
only" a little way from Duke. 

"That's him," he said triumphantly. 
"That's Clark all right!" 

'"Pretty smart," commented the sheriff 
of Vulcan, whose name wa- McCarthy, 
"hiding out on a road-gang when he is 
wanted for murder!" 

'Til say it's smart," agreed the other. 
"but I reckoned to locate him sooner 
or later." 

"Let's go down and see Skinner," 
suggested McCarthy. 

Matthew watched them go with an 
expressionless face, then turned and 
called urgently to the wanted man. 
"Clarkie! Hi, Clarkie!" 
Clark looked round, then walked over 
to the cart. He was a thick-set fellow 
with beady eyes and a gash of a mouth. 
"What d'you want?" he demanded 

Man," said Matthew dramatically, 
"your hour has struck!" 

"What do you mean?" asked Clark, 
with a note of uneasiness in his voice. 
"Let me see your hand." 
The convict held up a big and cal- 
loused hand, and Matthew pretended to 
study it, while Pop-Eye, who had 
stalked over to reprimand, lingered to 

"There is blood on it!" exclaimed 

"What are you driving at?" howled 
the convict. 
" Murder !" 

Clark backed away in manifest alarm, 
gaping at Matthew, and the two sheriffs 
tied from the briefest of talks with 

"Come on, Clark," said the 
sheriff of Vulcan grimly, clap- 
ping a pair of handcuff-* round 
the startled man's wrists, "wo ^\ 
want you for murder 1 ' 

The prisoner was marched 
away to a car which had 
left outside Billing's office, and 
Matthews was picking up his 
to drive the tip-cart to 
another section of the road 
when I stopped him. 

"Matthew," he said eagerly, 
"how did you know that man 
'.i i I committed murder?" 

Matthew smiled in a cryptic 
fashion and pointed to thi 

"Everything is written in the 
stars," he paid with exaggerated 

"Why didn't you tell us?" 
"Whosoever betrayeth his 
broth. M itthew, 

"is in danger of brimstone — 
and' stomach trouble." 

"Oh'" said Pop-Eye, and 
stepped nearer. "If I was hav- 
ing some kind of grief," lie «aid 
confident! illy, "could you put 
m* ',n t!.- right track?" 
"Why, of course I could." 
Duke, who had been listen- 
ing while working, ceased to 

'Well, thi3 thing that's got 
me worried is — well, it's kind 
of personal, you know." 
tsted Pop I but offci 


"brother," said Matthew, 


gazing up at the sky, " even my eyes 
are not equipped to divine the stars 
when the sun is shining. I can only 
read them at night." 

Pop-Eye looked puzzled, withdrew his 
hand, and rubbed his chin. 

"Oh, well!" he said. 'T — I'll see you 

He walked briskly away, and Duke 
made a decidely impolite noise with his 

'• Yea. brother." agreed Matthew, 
without the ghost of a smile, and gath- 
ered up the reins. 

About half an hour later Skinner was 
passing the door of the kitchen when 
Burgess the cook called out to him. 

"What's the matter. Burgess?" asked 
the captain impatiently. 

"I'm sorry, but one of the spoons 
is missing. I've just counted them 

Skinner entered the kitchen and 
frowned at the collection of spoons on 
the table. 

"Oh, yeah?" he drawled. "Well, 
that's all' right. To-day at noon, they 
don't get any spoons to eat with. Make 
'em soup — and make it thin!" 

"Oh, you are smart, Mr. Skinner." 
chuckled Burgess. "You're surely 

Skinner struck playfully at him with 
his whip and went out. He had his own 
way of dealing with the men in his 

The morning wore on towards noon: 
the heat of the day became oppressive. 
Imt the work on the road was kept up 
to pitch with the aid of whips that 
lashed and rifles that threatened. 

A steam shovel ploughed into the side 
of a steep bank ; a train of loaded trucks 
moved slowlv behind a fussy little 

engine on narrow-guage rails that led 
to an embankment in the making. All 
about the road was activity, except 
where the corrugated iron "sweat box" 
stood lonely and silent. 

Suddenly a dog chained to its kennel 
began to howl in a dismal fashion, and 
other dogs in various parts of the cam;> 
followed suit. A superstitious negro, 
working on a rock pile, stopped to 

"Dat means somebody's dead?" he 

The howling persisted till at last even 
Skinner became disturbed by it and 
went down to the sweat box. He un- 
locked and opened the door, but tin- 
sight that met his gaze caused him to 
shut it in has:e. Carter was dead, and 
his body was being kept upright on!\ 
by the collar round his neck that had 
choked him. 

Noon came, and with it the banging 
of a husre triangle. The convicts threw 
down their tools to line up in double 
rows, carrying their chains. 

Matthew, who had passed the swear 
box in the tip-cart just as Skinner 
opened its door, lined up immediateh 
behind Duke a few moments before tin- 
men began to tramp towards the shed 
where tnei fed. 

"Carter's dead." he confided 
"Strangled to death in the sweat box. 
The contractor says that the boy com- 
mitted suicide." 

Duke passed the information on to 
the man in front of him, but more 

'Carter's dead." he said. 

All along the double line the news 
passed, and before the shed was 
reached every man knew. 

One of you mugs has got a spoon ! " said Skinner fiercely. *' You'll 
eat with your Angers till you find It ! " 

January 21st, 1933. 


They took their places at the tables, 
and there was an empty seat where 
Carter should have been. Burgess 
moved along the rows of men ladling 
soup into their tin plates, but Duke 
looked at the vacant place. 

"Where is Carter?" he asked loudly. 

"Yeah," said a convict beside him, 
" where's Carter?" 

"Where is Carter?" demanded other 
voices, and the question became a united 
yell: "Where's Carter?" 

"Quiet there!" bellowed a guard. 

There was silence, except for the scuff- 
ling of feet; then Duke looked down at 
the thin soup in his plate and the few 
beans floating in the steaming fluid. 
He called out, wrathfully. 

"You can't strangle all of us, so you're 
going to starve us — is that the idea?" 

He became aware that he had no spoon 
with which to drink the soup : he glanced 
about and saw that the others had no 

"Give us some spoons!" he shouted. 

One of the guards darted out from 
the shed to fetch Skinner. 

"Spoons!" shouted Maxie, glaring 
through his spectacles at Pop-Eye. 

"Spoons!" yelled the other convicts. 
" Spoons ! Spoons ! Spoons !" 

The din was deafening. The guards 
looked at one another nervously, but 
Burgess went on filling the plates from 
a pail. And then, in the midst of the 
commotion, Skinner strode into the shed, 
cracked his whip for silence, and bore 
down on Duke, as the ringleader. 

"One of you mugs has got a spoon," 
he said fiercely. "You'll eat with your 
fingers till you find it" 

Burgess grinned, and the grin did not 
pass unnoticed. A voice called out as 
Skinner was stepping towards the door- 

"You'll find it. some day, stickin' in 
(lie middle of your back!" 

"Who said that?" rasped the captain, 
whirling round in a fury. 

Xobody spoke, and after a while lie 
wont out. Burgess winked at Duke, 
and Duke immediately rose and flung 
his plate and its contents full in the 
cook's face. 

His example was followed by the 
others. Plates whizzed through the air, 
the guards ducked, and Burgess — 
drenched with soup — rushed out from 
the shed with his pail, which he threw 
over the nearest fence. 

He went and told Skinner of what 
had happened, and Skinner went to the 
guards' quarters. 

"Get those men out of there and lock 
them up!" he directed savagely. "I'll 
starve the toughness out of them!" 

The Commissioner Acts. 

THE guards turned out in full 
strength and all the convicts were 
driven back to tho pie-wagons and 
chained to their bunks, the negroes shar- 
ing the punishment of tile white men 
though they had not created any dis- 

Guards marched up and down past 
the cages; the negroes, in their wagon. 
sang the song of "Willie the Weeper" 
and the dream he had under the in- 
fluence of dope; but the white men 
laughed and talked amongst, themselves. 

Tho road was silent and practically 
deserted in the afternoon sunshine, and 
Billings complained to Skinner. 

"Say, have you gone crazy?" he asked 
disgustedly. "Don't you know I'm los- 
ing all the time these men aren't at 

"That's discipline," said Skinner, 
toying with his whip. 

"Discipline my eye! snorted the con- 
tractor. "They like it! Listen to 'em, 
laughing and hollering their heads off!" 

January 21st, 1933. 


"I'm going to starve them until I 
get that spoon back," declared Skinner 
stubbornly. "If I let them get away 
with this they'll get away with some- 
thing else." 

"Yeah," said Billings. "Meantime, 
who's going to build the road?" 

"Without discipline you'll never get 
it built." retorted the captain. "Tho 
county hired me to discipline them." 

"Yeah, the county hired you — but 
I'm paying your salary!" 

The thrust struck home. Skinner 
followed the contractor out from the 
office in which the conversation had 
taken place. 

"I know, Billings," he said placat- 
ingly, "but don't worry. I'll get twice 
as much out of them from now on." 

"Well," growled Billings, "I wouldn't 
want the prison inspector to put the 
kibosh on the camp before the road is 
finished, and we haven't got much 

The afternoon dragged on. The 
blacks, who had made the most of their 
mid-day meal, left off singing to doze. 
But Duke disapproved of silence. 

"It's a cinch they can't get any work 
done with us guys locked up, "he said 
to the twenty other men in tho end pie- 
waggon. "Keep the joint hot, and 
they'll have to ask us how they're going 
to get the road finished." 

"You're talking, boy." agreed Maxie 
from the bunk beneath him. "Keep tho 
bulls runnin' around." 

"Let's bust up all the pick handles 
arid shovels when we get out," sug- 
gested Romeo Schultz. 

"That's the idea," concurred Duke. 
"And start a lot of fights." 

Matthew, from the bunk below 
Schultz's, said solemnly: 

"Brothers, I advise passive resis- 

"Aw, passive my eye!" exploded 
Maxie. "Duke's got the right idea. 
Let's keep the joint hot." 

"From now," said Duke. 

He looked out between the bars to 
make sure that plenty of guards were 
within hearing distance, and then bawled 
at the top of his voice: 

"Xo food, no work!" 

"Xo food!" chorused Maxie and a 
dozen others. 

"Xo work!" chimed in the rest. 

The men in the neighbouring pie- 
wagons took up the slogan till the whole 
camp was filled with their shouts and 
even the negroes joined in. 

" Xo food — no work! Xo food — no 
work ! Xo food — no work !" 

Louder and louder the snouting 
became till Billings was driven nearly 
frantic and Skinner began to doubt the 
wisdom of the course he had adopted. 

All through the long afternoon it 
continued ; and towards sunset Billings 
blustered and Skinner surrendered, so 
that an evening meal was provided for 
the convicts as usual. 

Somehow the news of Carter's death 
in the sweat box had travelled beyond 
the camp, and there were glaring head- 
lines about it in the early editions of 
the "Seattle Star," and in the "Vulcan 
Evening Post." 

The Prison Commissioner in Vulcan, 
an elderly man with a stern sense of 
justice, but not without a heart, visited 
the county gaol in search of a trusted 
plain-clothes man named Frederick 
Ernest Whitehouse because the head- 
lines had worried him. 

Whitehouse was in the prison yard, 
bundling five prisoners into a patrol 
wagon. Four of them had the general 
appearance of habitual offenders, the 
fifth was a mere boy of eighteen, tall, 
clean-shaven and quite good-looking, 
with smoothly brushed black hair and 

Every Tuesday 

clear hazel eyes in which no vice was 

The Commissioner looked on in silence 
till the wagon was ready to start, then 
called Whitehouse over to him. 

"You're going up to the Liberty Road 
camp with those men," he said. 

" Yessir," responded Whitehouse, a 
big and burly fellow with a fat good- 
humoured face. 

"You're to stay there," said the Com- 
missioner, "and, officially, you are to 
assist the contractor who is building the 

" So I understand, sir." 

"Actually," pursued the Commis- 
sioner, lowering his voice, "your job is 
to find out the truth about the way the 
Carter boy died. Remember, we don't 
want to go off half-cocked. Take your 
time, Whitehouse — get all the facts. 
Understand ? All the facts 1" 

"I understand, Commissioner," re- 
sponded Whitehouse. 

He swung himself up into the patrol 
wagon, which was driven out from the 
yard into the town and out from the 
town towards the new road. 

In one of the cell-like compartments 
of the vehicle the boy sat handcuffed to 
another prisoner, who had been con- 
victed under the name of James Cole, 
but who was known to his associates 
as "Spike." After a while, as prisoners 
will, the two talked. 

"Say, what were you pinched for?" 
inquired Spike facetiously. "Stealing 
lead pencils off a school kid ?" 

The boy frowned, considering himself 
insulted. His name was Johnny Ellis, 
and he had a brother who had broken 
the law on many occasions, but who was 
still his hero and his exemplar. 

"I was convicted," he said with pride, 
"by a judge and twelve jurors for 
assault with a deadly weapon." 

"Oh," scoffed Spike, "a tough guy, 

"If you don't think I'm tough," re- 
torted Johnny hotly, "wait till you meet 
my brother !" 

"Is he older or younger than you?" 

"Older, of course," was the reply. 
"Yeah, and his name is Duke Ellis." 

Spike stared. 

"Duke Ellis?" he repeated and in 
quite a different tone. "You've said a 
mouthful, kid ! He ain't no cream- 
puff !" 

"Do you know him?" asked Johnny 

"Know him? Say, him and I done 
a fall together." 

Spike spoke as one who had experi- 
enced the privilege of being associated 
with a great man, and his manner to- 
wards this younger brother of Duke Ellis 
became w'arm and friendly. 


AFTER the evening meal at the 
camp, the convicts were marched 
back to their sleeping quarters, 
and for an hour, on Skinner's instruc- 
tions, they were freed of their shackles 
— a conciliatory gesture on tho part of 
the captain which did not greatly benefit 
them, since they were locked in. 

The men were sprawling on their 
bunks when an undersized but wiry 
fellow known to the others as "Happy," 
held up an iron band from which a 
chain depended. 

"Look what I got! Look what I 
got!" he exclaimed. 

Tho others did look. The light was 
fading, but the shape of the thing was 
familiar enough. 

"What are you going to do with it?" 
inquired Romeo. "Sock a guard?" 

"What do you care?" retorted 

Every Tuesday 

Happy; and then, as Duke snatched 
a.vay his prize : "Hi, that's mine !" 
'Not now it isn't!" laughed Duke. 

Happy jumped down from his bunk, 
and clenched his fists, but Duke reached 
out with one of his long legs and kicked 
him into a lower bunk. 

"Aw, that ain't fair!" Happy 
grumbled as he picked himself up and 
climbed back into his own bunk. 
"That's stealing!" 

Duke examined the iron with interest, 
and tried it on his ankle. The pin had 
been removed from the hinges so that 
even if it were locked it could easily 
be removed. 

"What would happen if they ran the 
bull chain through this fake leg-iron?" 
he asked, showing it to Matthew. 

"Why, they'd think you were locked 
up, of course," replied that individual. 

"Sure!" Duke leaned nearer to the 
whiskered face. "Listen, Matthew! 
To-night I'm going to tear for it !" 

"But, comrade," protested Matthew, 
"even if you are free of the bull chain 
there's still that iron door to pass." 

"That's why I'm talking to you! 
Pop-Eye fell for that star-reading bunk 
of yours. Get him to open that door 
so you can read the stars for him. Tell 
him he's going to lose a lot of money. 
Tell him his wife's cheating on him. 
Tell him — oh, tell him anything, but 
keep his eyes on the stars." 

"I gotcha, Duke," nodded Matthew 
with his customary solemnity. "Your 
will shall be done." 

It was practically dark when Pop-Eye 
unlocked the door and entered the 
wagon to fasten the men's chains. They 
themselves, as usual, had snapped on 
their leg-irons and pulled their chains 
through the rings in the framework of 
their bunks. All Pop-Eye had to do was 
to lock the loose end of each chain to 
the front of each leg-iron. 

Over in their own wagon the negroes 
were singing a spiritual, and Duke, 


as Pop-Eye approached his feet, was 
lying in his bunk hitting at mosquitoes. 
Pop-Eye did not even try to look at 
the leg-iron as he put the loose end of 
the chain in a ring-lock and snapped it 

" Skeeters are busy to-night," he re- 

"Yeah," said Duke sarcastically, with 
a jerk of his thumb towards the bars 
that formed the side of the wagon, "I 
don't know how they get through those 
little holes. " 

Pop-Eye, having performed his duty, 
went out to mount guard, closing and 
locking the door behind him, and the 
other guards on duty in the camp took 
up their stations. 

Skinner, in the privacy of his office, 
which was also his sitting-room, propped 
a sheet of music against some books on 
the table, and was baking a violin from 
its case when Billings opened the door 
and stepped over the threshold. 

The contractor was not in a specially 
cheerful frame of mind. He threw down 
his hat and stood watching as Skinner 
tuned the violin. 

"It's a good thing you came to your 
senses and fed those men to-night." he 
remarked, "or they wouldn't have 
worked at all to-morrow." 

"Billings," said Skinner, tightening 
the E string, "it's discipline that makes 
convicts work." 

"I don't care how it's done," snapped 
Billings, "but I want to get this road 
finished ahead of schedule — and don't 
forget you're getting your bit out of it." 

"Was it a good dinner you had in 
Vulcan?" asked Skinner, picking up 
his bow. 

It was about ten minutes later that 
Pop-Eye stepped up to the end pie- 
wagon and spoke cautiously between the 
bars to Matthew in his bunk. The 
negroes were still singing. 

" How about it now?" asked Pop-Eye. 

" I can't tell a thing without seeing 

the stars," said Matthew calmly. "And 
I can't sec them from here." 

The statement was justified, since the 
professed seer occupied a lower bunk, 
but it gave Pop-Eye food for thought. 
The other men in the wagon were very 
quiet, and he imagined them to be 

"Well," he said, after a while, 
"there's no harm in letting you out for 
a minute if you can keep your mouth 
shut, and " 

"If you do not think I am to be 
trusted," interrupted Matthew severely, 
"please do not annoy me." 

"I'll be back in a few minutes," 
decided Pop-Eye. 

He had heard the sound of an 
approaching motor vehicle, and its head- 
lamps lit up the pen before he had re- 
treated many yards. 

It was the patrol wagon from the 
county gaol that passed, and it oame to 
a standstill beside Skinner's office. 
Whitehouse was opening the doors in 
the back of the wagon when the con- 
tractor and the captain looked out. 

" Well, here it is, boys !" Whitehouse 
called. "Come on!" 

The prisoners descended and were con- 
ducted into the office. Whitehouso 
handed Billings a list and Skinner stood 
beside him. 

"When you hoar your name called 
out say ' here,' " he commanded. 

"Martin!" said Billings. 

"Here," responded the convict of that 

" Wagner." 

" Here." 

Billings looked from the sheet of paper 
to the broken-nosed and bullet-headed 
fellow who had spoken. 

" You're Kale Wagner, the prize- 
fighter, aren't you?" he inquired. 

"Yes, sir," admitted the man 

"Well, just remember there's no stall- 
ing around here. Cole !" 

"Here I" responded Spike. 

Skinner raised his whip to strike but Billings grabbed bis arm and held it. 

January 21st, 1933. 


"Here!" said Johnny. 


"Here, 7 ' said a rather undersized 
prisoner who looked anything but fit 
for road work in a chain gang. 

"Take 'em over and lock 'em in the 
fish tank, Whitehouse," directed Skin- 

The plain-clothes man nodded. 

"All right, captain," he said. "Come 
on, boys \" 

He was handed a key, and, in the 
light of the moon went off with his 
charges to a store shed, where the five 
were told to help themselves to one mat- 
tress .and two blankets apiece. 

" Pretty scrubby lot," grunted Bill- 
ings after they had gone. " I don't 
think we'll get much out of them !" 

The so-oalled "fish tank " was really 
a huge cage of iron mesh. It was in- 
side the pen, not far from the end bunk- 
wagon, and as Whitehouse conducted 
tha newcomers towards it, derisive 
shouts from the convicts greeted them : 

" Fish on the line ! Fish on the 
line 1" 

A guard opened the door of the cage, 
and the five went in with their bedding 
to make themselves as comfortable as 
they could for the night on the ground. 

A Shock for Pop-Eye. 

SOME little while later, Pop-Eye un- 
locked the iron door of the end 
wagon with as little noise as pos- 
sible, and went in to release Matthew. 
Most of the men were asleep, but Duke, 
though perfectly still, was on the alert. 

Pop-Eye went out and down the steps, 
and Matthew followed him slowly, 
leaving the door slightly ajar. He 
looked up at the sky and shook his 

"There's something ominous in the 
stars to-night," he siaid as though half- 
frightened. "Please put me back in 
my cage. I — I don't want anything to 
do with this." 

" What do you mean ?" asked Pop- 
Eye anxiously. 

"There is blood on the stars," said 
Matthew, and shuddered. "I don't 
want blood on my hands." 

The guard looked up at the sky, but 
the stars seemed just as usual to him. 

"What are you talking about?" he 

"Please put me back," urged 
Matthew, and turned about. But Pop- 
Eye, mora curious than ever, caught 
hold of his arm and pulled him across 
the enclosure. 

It was Duke's opportunity, and he 
Si ized upon it. Quickly he removed the 
ineffective leg-iron and slid down from 
his bunk. Two other convicts, who had 
long been prepared for such a chance, 
followed him as he crept from the 

Spike and Johnny were lying side by 

side on their mattresses in the "fish 

tank." and Spike nudged the boy as 

three figures oame stealing in their 

direction to reach the fence. 

"Duke!" called Johnny, recognising 

Duke dodged behind a mound of 
earth, but the other two fugitives 
d the fence and ran. 

"Duke!" called Johnny again. 
"Duke— it's me. Johnny!" 

Spike, propping himself on his 
elbow--, watched intently. The other 
men in the cage sat up. And then 
slowly, doubtfully, Duke emerged from 
his hiding-place and approached the 
iron mesh against which his brother was 
pressing his eager faro. 

"Hallo, Duko,'' said the boy happily. 
"So glad to see you." 

January 21st, 1933. 


"What are you doing in there?" 
asked Duke in a strained voice, crouch- 
ing on his knees and trying to master 
his amazement. 

"Aw," said Johnny almost boastfully, 
" I took a shot at the guy that squealed 
on you." 

"Did you hit him?" 

"No, I missed him," admitted 

"How much time did you get?" 

"One to five." 

"You little fool !" said Duke through 
clenched teeth. " Why didn't you stick 
to your job?" 

"Aw, gee, Duke " began Johnny 

protcstingly ; but his brother cut him 

" I told you to take care of ma," he 
said fiercely, and then, because he knew 
that he had little time to spare, he rose 
and ran. 

"Gee, kid," said Spike, "he's going 
over the hill. I hope he makes it." 

"They can't stop Duke," declared 
Johnny proudly. 

But Duke stopped himself before he 
had gone very far. He had counted 
quite a lot on this bid for liberty, but 
what was the use of liberty with his 
young brother in bondage ? 

Behind the tool-shed he crouched for 
several minutes, thinking things out. 
And presently, to his astonishment, 
Johnny saw him go stealthily back to 
the wagon he had left. 

Matthew, by this time, had read the 
stars in a fashion that had driven Pop- 
Eye almost frantic. They were stand- 
ing together under the trees by the 
corral in which the mules were kept. 

"You mean my wife?" exclaimed the 

"Then you do know," said Matthew 
quietly. "Your heart has told you. 
Even now, to-night, they are embracing 
— your wife and her lover — even as the 
darkness embraces the stars." 

He dropped his hands to his sides 
and walked slowly back to the pie- 
wagon, and it was not till he had 
mounted the steps that Pop-Eye fol- 
lowed him, refastened his chains, and 
went out and locked the door. 

Matthew lay listening to his retreat- 
ing footsteps for a few minutes, then 
glanced at Duke's bunk. To his infinite 
surprise, Duke was sitting up and 
waving between the bars towards the 
fish tank. 

"Why didn't you go?" gasped the 

Duko pointed. 

"They've got my kid brother in 
there," he said simply. 

Pop-Eye, so that he could go home 
for week-ends when off duty during the 
building of the road, had rented a little 
single-storey cabin on the fringe of a 
village, five miles south of the camp. 

He was a. jealous man by nature, and, 
because of tho remarkable way in which 
Matthew had seemed to know all about 
the murder for which Clark was wanted, 
he believed every word of the fantastic 
tale the star-gazer had told him con- 
cerning the unfaithfulness of his wife. 

With a formidable six-shooter in his 
pocket, he propped his rifle against the 
fence, vaulted it, and covered the five 
miles in record time, intent on ven- 

He reached the cabin, which was set 
among trees in rather an isolated posi- 
tion, and, to confirm all that he had 
heard, there was a light in tho bed- 
room window. 

He did not stop to consider the pos- 
sibility that his wife, who was young 
and pretty, might have a _ woman 
visitor staying the night with her. 
Pacing across to the veranda, he 

Every Tuesday 

opened the front door with his key and 
made for the bed-room. 

The door was locked, and, in a fury, 
he hurled himself against it. 

Screams rang out — entirely feminino 
screams — and a woman friend of Pop- 
Eye's wife -opened the window and 
scrambled out into the night. 

A few seconds later the door swung 
wide on broken hinges, and the six- 
shooter spat fire. 

It was the custom of the guards in 
charge of the camp to call out to one 
another at ten o'clock every night, and 
again when the watch was changed at 
two in the morning. Pop-Eye, tearing 
in the direction of the pen he should 
not have deserted, heard the voice of 
a colleague shouting : 

"Ten o'clock and all is well !" 

Another guard responded, and the 
next in turn. Pop-Eye, scrambling 
over the fence of the pen, gasped for 
breath, drew himself erect, and cried : 

"Ten o'clock and all is well !" 

Ho was safe; he had established (in 
alibi. For a while he leaned against 
the fence, breathing heavily, then 
slowly he moved past the wagons with 
his rifle under his arm. 

But the six-shooter was in his pocket, 
and it contained two tell-tale spent 
cartridges. The convicts seemed to be 
asleep, so he deposited his rifle on the 
ground, and, taking out the revolver, 
ejected the spent cartridges, tossed 
away the empty shells, and. restoring 
the weapon to his pocket, picked up his 

Duke, sleepless because he had so 
much to occupy his thoughts, had seen 
Pop-Eye scramble over the fence, and 
idly had continued to watch him. His 
eyes widened as the barrel of the six- 
shooter gleamed in the moonlight, and 
he particularly noticed the spot where 
the spent cartridges fell. 

In the morning, before breakfast, the 
mystery of Pop-Eye's actions was 
solved for him. The convicts were 
lined up beside the wagons, reinforced 
by the five men from the fish tank, and 
Johnny stood beside his brother. 

Skinner came striding past the 
guards to address tho assembled men. 

"Last night," he said harshly, "two 
men escaped and murdered a guard's 
wife. This morning they're back — and 
I'm going to pick a detail to bury 

A team of horses passed, beyond the 
fence, drawing a cart, and two pairs of 
feet projected beyond its tailboard. 
The convicts understood and removed 
their hats. The two men who had 
escaped had been shot down and their 
bodies were in the cart ! 

"You know, Johnny," said Duke in 
a low voice to his brother, "if it hadn't 
been for you, I'd have been riding in 
that cart." 

"Aw, no, Duke," said Johnny, shak- 
ing his head emphatically, "you're too 
smart for that." 

The detail was picked and sent off to 
dig two graves in the heart of the un- 
made road. The men who remained 
went off to wash, and Duke had cleaned 
his teeth when Pop-Eye walked up to 
him holding the useless leg-iron which 
he had discovered in his bunk. 

"What do you know about this?" he 
demanded gruffly. 

Duke thrust a hand into a pocket of 
his trousers and displayed two spent 

" What do you know about these, Pop- 
Eye?" he countered, rattling them to- 
gether in the palm of hi6 hand. 

Pop-Eye was dumbfounded, and -the 
bulbous blue eyes responsible for his 

Every Tuesday 

lickname seemed to be starting out of 
is head. 

"When's the funeral?" asked Duke, 
Iropping the cartridges back in his 

" To-to-morrow," stammered the 
t retched guard. 

For the Sake of His Brother. ' 

rHE funeral took place in the after- 
noon of the following day, and as 
several of the guards attended it, 
ho convicts were 6hut up in their sleep- 
ng quarters till the mournere returned. 
The negroes spent most of the time 
irging a mournful ditty, the words of 
which had been improvised for the 

'Sir men all dressed up in mourning, 
Six men all dressed up in black, 
Took Pop-Eye's wife to the graveyard, 
And they didn't bring her back." 

"I'm surprised you're not at the 
uneral to-day, Mr. Whitehou6e," said 
iurgess, ironing shirts for Skinner, to 
he plain-clothes man who was sitting at 
he captain's desk. 

"Oh, not me, Burgess," said Whitc- 
louse, looking up. '' I don't like 
unerals. " 

"I do," confided the cook. "I like 
em because they're so sad." 

Th<; funeral over, work was resumed 
in the road ; and Johnny took hie place 
n the chain gang, working near his 

Several days passed monotonously, but 
without any outstanding event, and the 
rang of which Duke and Johnny were 
nembcrs moved farther along the road 
,o a more rocky region, w here the swing- 
ng of picks became more tiring than 
tver; but Johnny, with several other 
t;en, shovelled the broken rock into 

One forenoon, Romeo Schultz, who 
lad been working close beside Johnny, 
ished a torn photograph from his shirt- 
>ocket and showed it to another convict. 


" What d'you think of her 1" he asked 

The photograph was of a beautiful 
dark-haired girl, and Romeo had filched 
it from Johnny's pocket. 

" Some baby I" commented the man. 

Johnny looked round, recognised hi6 
own property, and; dropping his 6hovel, 
ran over and grabbed at the picture. 

"Give me that photo!" he shouted. 

''Not that sweet dish," retorted 
Romeo. "I want her in my collection." 

Johnny secured the photograph, con- 
siderably damaged in the tussle, and 
knocked the offender down, and a guard 
came striding over. 

" Cut out that fighting !" he cried. 
" Get back to work !" 

Sullenly the two picked up their 
shovels and resumed their labours. The 
guard walked away, and Duke backed 
from the line of men with pickaxes and 
swung his own pick between his brother 
and the collector of photographs. 

" Don't worry, Duke," said Johnny 
savagely, " I'm going to get that Romeo 
the first chance that pops." 

"If you do," said Duke, "you're the 
biggest fool that ever lived. You'll 
spend the rest of your life in stir. Huh ! 
And all on account of some common 
little dame !" 

" You can't talk about her like that !" 
shrilled Johnny, dropping his shovel and 
clenching his fists. 

"Say, you little half-baked mug." 
hissed Duke, "I'll smack you right in 
the teeth if you get out of line around 
here. The only wise guy in this joint 
is the one that good times out of it." 

He went cautiously back to his right- 
ful place and seemed to be entirely occu- 
pied with his work when the guard re- 
turned and saw Johnny scowling across 
at his brother instead of plying his 

He raised his whip, and the thong 
caught Johnny on the back of the neck, 
goading him to folly. He flung himself 
bodily at the guard, bearing him to the 
ground, and there they fought and 

struggled till two other guards came 
running up, and Johnny was jerked to 
his feet. 

"Take him to the captain." directed 
the senior of the two guards; and the 
boy was propelled forcibly along the road 
to Skinner, who eyed him evilly. 

"He started a fight and then jumped a 
guard," explained the man who was 
holding Johnny. 

"Oh!" said Skinner grimly. "Well, 
take him down to the hospital and sweat 
it out of him." 

"Come on — pick 'em up!" ordered the 

Duke was watching, but he had no 
knowledge of the punishment in store 
for his brother. Skinner went back to 
his office, and Whitehousc met him out- 
side it. 

"Don't you think there's a danger of 
these men blowing up?" asked White- 

"Why?" snapped Skinner. 

"Too much pressure. You've allowed 
that contractor to hire a lot of local 
rough-necks for guards whose idea of 
handling men is treating Vm like a lot 
of mules." 

"Billings and I are running this 
camp," said Skinner in a tone that sug- 
gested he would not siand for any inter- 

"Yeah," nodded Whitehousc, and 
added quietly: "But you <:m't go on 
running it in violation of the State laws 
that were passed just to stop t hat so; t 
of abu6e." 

"I don't believe in coddling pris- 
oners," retorted Skinner; "and what's it 
to you ?" 

It was among the rocks in the after- 
noon, that Hype, having conversed with 
Matthew, went over to Duke, who was 
tossing lumps of rock into a truck. 

"Did you hear what they did to your 
brother?" lie asked. 

"No," said Duke. "What was it?" 

"Well, they've had him all this time 
down in the "sweat box!" 

Duke, without another word, dropped 

Duke bowed his head. 

His mother's gently-uttered words were far more effective than any direct reproaches. 

January 21st, 1933. 


the heavy piece of rock he was holding 
and stalked straight over to Pop-Eye. 

Hie eyes were fierce and his jaw was 

''Take me down to the slaughter-pen," 
he said commanding]}'. 

Pop-Eye stepped back in alarm and 
raised his rifle. 

"What are you talking about?" he 

" You cant afford to argue with me, 
Pop-Eye," said Duke significantly. 
" Let's go !' J 

The rifle was lowered, and Pop-Eye 

gestured. Duke followed him; and 

Billings, at the window of his office, saw 

the two walking towards the sweat box. 

He called Skinner. 

■'Say, isn't that Duke Ellis?" he in- 
quired; pointing'. 

Skinner snatched up his whip with an 
imprecation, and the two went out to- 
gether. But they were some little dis- 
tance from the sweat box when Duke 
and Pop-Eye reached it, and Pop-Eye 
stopped short, biting his lip. 

"Open this thing," roared Duke, "or 
I'll kick it to pieces! Open it!" 

Reluctantly Pop-Eye took a bunch of 
keys from Lis pocket and opened the 
door, and Duke stared with horrified 
eyes. His brother, ghastly white, was 
fastened by the throat and feet as Carter 
had been fastened : his eyes were closed, 
perspiration was streaming down his 
face, and it was evident that he was only 

At that moment Skinner came striding 
up with Billings. 

"What's the idea?" Skinner rasped. 
"The kid's his brother," faltered Pop- 

"<)!i, you don't say so?" jeered 

But Duke swung round on them, and 
lie looked capable of murder. 

"Take him out of this thing!" he 

" Oh, what makes you so excited, 
Duke." temporised Billings. 

" You killed one kid in there !" Duke 
hit back at him. 

Skinner pushed past the contractor. 
Hi-; green eyes glittered. 

"You feel bad, don't you, Duke?" he 
eaid sarcastically. "Your kid brother's 
yellow ! He hasn't got the guts to be 
an upstanding criminal like yourself." 

"That thing'll make a criminal out of 
him all right," roared Duke. "Take 
him out I" 
"Who's running this stir?" 
"You'll never run it if you don't take 
him out!" 

'What do you mean by that crack?" 
"What do you think?" Duke retorted. 
"Oh, you're going to keep the heat 
on?" suggested Billings. 

" What happened the day you killed 
Carter," shouted Duke, "is nothing com- 
pared with what I'll do Take him 

out I" 

Skinner raised his whip to strike, but 
Billings grabbed his arm and held it. 
Above all things he wanted the road 

" What would you 6ay if I took the 
kid out and give him a nice soft job 
in the office?" he said smoothly. "Come 
on, Duke; I know what you want, and 
you know what I want. With your 
influence over the men you can help me 
get this road finished on time." 

Duke glared at him. but looked again 
into the sweat box, and the sight o? his 
brother hanging there was too much for 

"Okay," he growled. "Take him 

Billings nodded to Pop-Eye and drew 
Skinner away. Johnny's shackles were 
unfastened, and Duke caught him in his I 
January 21st, 1933. 


arms and carried him out into the sun- 

Presently the boy opened his eye6 and 
tried to 6mile at his brother. 

" Aw, gee, Duke," he murmured. 

The Day of Rest. 

NEXT day, Johnny, still rather pale 
and badly shaken by his horrible 
experience, was given light work 
to do in the contractor's office. He had 
been a clerk before his arrest, and he 
proved quite a good typist. 

Duke, unofficially in charge of the 
men, did his best to keep his end of the 
bargain, but his companions had more 
than an inkling of what had happened, 
and they no longer treated him as one 
of themselves. 

It was moon-faced Maxie who brought 
matters to a head. They were working 
in the mouth of what was to he a tunnel 
through a hill, one morning, when he 
threw down his shovel and walked 
truculently over to Duke. 

"So you come through to the big boss, 
eh?" he said scornfully, adjusting his 
spectacles the better to glare. "You 
made him feel pretty good, eh?" 

"Oh, don't rap me!" growled Duke, 
whose self-reproach was quite hard 
enough to bear. 

"That's right!" shouted Maxie, mis- 
understanding him. "The only ones 
you'll talk to these days are the screws, 

His fists were clenched and his face 
was thrust within a few inches of 
Duke's chin, his mouth working. 

"It's against the law to hit anybody 
that wears glasses, Maxie," said Duke, 
backing away from him, "and I 
wouldn't break the law." 

"That's all right!" snarled Maxie, 
"I'll take them off!" 

He did so, and dumped them on the 
ground near a truck, then held out his 
fat face again. 

"Now hit me!" he cried. "Come on 
— hit me, you big stiff!" 

"Don't be a fool!" remonstrated 
Duke. "You can't see." 

"Oh, I can't see, eh? You think I 
can't! Come here!" 

He struck out wildly with both fists, 
but Duke, who knew quite well that he 
was as blind as a bat without his 
glasses, stepped nimbly away, and Maxie 
assaulted the empty air. 

The other men crowded round, grin- 
ning delightedly and egging the veteran 
on to greater effort. One of them 
daringly got in his way and went down 
with a crash. But Maxie heard Duke's 
mocking laughter and became more 
furious than ever. 

"Where is that yellow lob?" he 

Duke stepped forward, seized him by 
the shoulders, and swung him round just 
as Pop-Eye came striding up to the 
group. Maxie struck out valiantly with 
both fists, and Pop-Eye received a blow 
on the nose entirely by accident. 

He closed with his assailant, and they 
were struggling together when two 
other guards came running up, and one 
of them dragged Maxie away and 
knocked him down. 

Duke bit his lip.. He hadn't intended 
the thing to go so far as that. 

"So you're getting tough in your old 
age, eh?" said Pop-Eye, as Maxie was 
jerked to his feet and held. "Well, 
we'll show you how tough we can get!" 
"1 couldn't see," protested Maxie. 
"With fifty lashes," said Pop-Eye 
grimly, "maybe you'll see a little bit 

"What's the beef?" demanded 
Skinner, arriving with his whip. 

Every Tuesday 

Maxie turned in the direction of tha 
hated voice. 

"When you gonna put a guard suit 
on Duke?" he shouted; and the con- 
victs looked at Duke, who promptly 
stepped forward. 

"That slug didn't do it," he said to 
Pop-Eye. . "I shoved him into you. 
What are you going to do about it?" 

"Hi, where's my glases?" howled 

Duke picked up the precious spectacles 
and handed them to him. 

"I thought you were the guy that 
was going to keep this joint quiet?" 
6aid Skinner with withering contempt. 
"Nobody ever gave you a good licking, 
did they?" 

"No," said Duke quietly. "But I 
can take one." 

"Well," rasped Skinner, "you're 
goin' to!" 

He motioned to the guards to release 
Maxie and grab Duke. 

"Slaughter pen," he said. "Fifty 
lashes! You, Martin!" 

Two guards led Duke away to the 
enclosure beyond the camp graphically 
known as the "slaughter pen." In it 
there were stocks and a whipping-post, 
frequently used. Duke was made to 
strip to the waist, and then was fastened 
to the whipping-post by his wrists, 
drawn above his head to the cross j piece. 
He made no protest, offered no re- 
sistance. In a way he felt that he de- 
served the punishment that had been 
ordered, not for fooling with Maxie, but 
for letting the other convicts down in 
order to save his brother. 

One of the guards went back to his 
duties, leaving Martin alone with the 
man he was to lash. But the whip, 
though raised, was lowered again. 
Nearly a minute passed in utter silence, 
and then Duke, looking over his 
shoulder at the motionless guaid, 
growled : 

"Well, why don't you start?" 
The reason was quite a simple one. 
On Duke's broad back wa6 tattooed this 
inscription : 

"42nd (flag) Machine Gun Co. 167th 

"We were in France together — must 
have been!" said Martin. "I can't do 

So Duke, who already felt humiliated 
enough, had to walk about for the rest 
of that day like a man whose back was 
wealed and lacerated. 

Sunday came — the first Sunday in 

On ordinary Sundays the convicts 
worked just as they did on weekdays, 
but on the first Sunday in each month 
they enjoyed a measure of freedom. 
They were allowed to write letters in 
the 6hed where they fed; they were 
allowed to play games — inside the pen 
where the pie-wagons stood; and in a 
large hut, specially provided for iii& 
purpose by order of the penal authori- 
ties, they were permitted to see 

Billings stayed away from the camp 
on these Sundays, and Whitehouse took 
advantage of his absence to use his 
desk. He had asked Johnny to help 
him during the morning, as there were 
letters to be written, and Johnny assured 
him that he was perfectly willing. 

He typed two letters for the Com- 
missioner's agent, but it was quite 
obvious to Whitehouse that the boy had 
something on his mind, and at last, 
looking up from a paper, he said: 
"What is it, kid? Let's have it?" 
Johnny rose and went over to the 

(Continued on page 25.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 11 

A brave Westerner's many efforts to save his friend, who had fallen into the hands of an 
outlaw and his gang. Hair-raising thrills and hair-trigger action in a swift-moving 


drama of the great West. 

The Escape From Jai 
HO you diggin' those holes for, 

Moo Ginsberg straightened 
his back, wiped the sweat from his fore- 
head with a large bandana handkerchief 
leaning on his Spade, turned to- 
wards a small adobe shack. 
From behind iron bars two men 
■ I forth. They were in the prison 
of the small cow-town of Ked Gulch, 
which is situated close to the border 
of Arizona. 

Two of I!" k Gallagher's men, who 
had 'lit in a rustling raid. 

Sheriff Hartman'l men had had a warn- 
ing of the raid and had lain in wait. 
igher was a desperate villain, who 
t<,ok little account of life, and a desper- 
ate gunfight had ensued. Two of tho 
sheriff's men had been killed, but none 
of Gallagher's men had been hurt though 
id been taken prisoners. 
Collins, a self riglr i hicf-mak- 

ing citiwn of Red Gulch had made a 
ch nt their trial, and so in- 
I the minds of judge and jury that 
it was decided that at noon next day 
'< should swing. 
Moe G iwner of the store. 

taker and man of all trades. It 
was his job to dig the graves, provide 
the rope and supply tombstones if re- 

>{ illl 'J. 





"Maybe you think I haven't dug 'em 
long enough," Ginsberg retorted. "1 
can tell tho height of you two guys to 
an inch." 

"We havin' a new rope, Moe?" B 
the other erook. 

"One of my men be weavin' it." 
Ginsberg dug his spade into the hard 
soil. "Guess I'd better be seein' if it 
is finished. .Must say you two guys have 
got nerve. Way you talk one would 
think it wore your weddin' day." 

" We ain't dead yet," cried one. 

"And " A kick from his companion 

quietened him. 

i lupin' Buck will come and save yer 
worthiest necks?" sneered the trader 
and undertaker. "What a hopo you've 

"We're resigned to our fate." The 
man who had kicked spoke. "If we've 
got to die then we sure can be satisfied 
that we've had a merry career. Moe, 
will you do us a favour?" 

"Let you out of gaol?" 

"No, we ain't askin' that, but we wish 

about that rope," the rustler 

said. "Hank and I don't kinda like 

the idea of being strung up with a rope 

used before." 

Bo I'll BTO and see about that rope 

right now." 

When Ginsberg was out of hearing, 
the wisest of the two scowled at his 

companion. "Moe's a wide old bird. 
If he had got suspicious we might ha\e 
swung. Keep your fool tongue q 
Moe's actin' as gaoler till the hangin' 
and he won't be gone long. Wo gotta 
work fast. Get busy, Hank, with that 

Whilst the vicious, evil-exprcssioned 
I Link sawed away at the rusty iron 
bars, the other man craned his neck 
as close to the bars as possible. Not 
so ugly as his companion, Dago Daniels, 
but he was just as cruel and twice as 

"Jerry ought to show up soon." He 
wiped his forehead. "We're for it, 
Hank, if that kid fails us." 

"Ruck won't fail us," opined tho 
stolid Hank. "He'll see the kid don't 
let us down. Jerry Sutton would stop 
some lead if he tried to double-cross 

"You're right, Hank. Ah!" Daniels 
clutched his companion's arm. "Thero's 
Jerry. Let me have a go with that 

Jerry Sutton was a comparative youth. 
Sallow, rather palo of face, long untidy 
hair, and a chin that was weak. Tho 
blue eyes possessed nothing vicious but 
there was no strength to them — the eyes 
and chin betrayed his character. Weak, 
going and lazy he had been easy 
to lure into the clutches of Buck 
Gallagher. Money easily earned and 
then the realisation that he had gone 
too far to get away from tho chit 
of the crafty half-caste leader. He hated 
the tasks that Gallagher set him, but 
dure was no breaking away. He had to 
January 21st, 1933. 


spy on Red Gulch and report anything 
of importance to his chief. 

But for his friendship with Kent 
Roger=, guide, hunter and cowpuncher, 
he would have degenerated even lower. 
The fathers of the two young men had 
been friends and when Sutton senior 
handed in his checks, the last words he 
spoke were a request that Kent watch 
over his son. Sutton senior often wished 
his boy was as strong and upright as 
the son of his old comrade, but fate 
had decreed otherwise. 

Jerry could be secretive and coin- 
ing and he managed to hide a lot of 
dealings from Kent, but the latter was 
not blind. Kent had argued and argued, 
always Jerry would promise to reform 
and always fail. Kent Rogers would go 
off on a hunting expedition and return 
to find that Red Gulch suspected Jerry 
of playing a part in the latest robbery 
or hold-up. 

Rogers was away when Gallagher's two 
men were captured and Jerry was told 
the part he must play in rescuing the two 
condemned prisoners. 

Jerry Sutton had hidden in the brush 
until Moe Ginsberg had gone. He did 
not like the task before him. 

It was a relief that no one was about — 
it was the hottest part of the day and 
though the main street, which possessed 
about forty shacks and was under half 
a mile long, was close by, everyone 
nas indoors. 

Loosening the rope on the pommel of 
his saddle, Sutton rode up to the gaol. 

"Get busy Jerry," hissed Daniels. "Is 
Buck around?" 

"Standing by with the boys." 
whispered the youth. "He'll cover your 
escape should you be discovered." 

Jerry fastened the rope round two of 
the bars, tied them with a reef knot 
and then rode his horse to about 
twenty paces from the prison. The rope 
he twined round the pommel and then 
glanced round over his shoulder. 

"All set!" cried Dago Daniels. 

Jerry urged his horse forward. A 
powerful creature who strained every 
muscle. The bars of the cell quivered 
under the strain. 

"They're bendin' !" cried Hank. 

"Get ready to make a break," 
answered Daniels. 

They beat at the bending bars with 
stones torn from the floor of the cell. 
One of the half-filed bars snapped and 
the jerk forward tore away the supports 
of the other bar Half the frame work 
came away with a crash. 

Squirming and wriggling the two 
crooks forced their way through the 
small opening. 

They were free ! 

Crack! Crack! 

Two bullets whined over their heads. 
Moe Ginsberg had returned too late to 
stop the escape, but not too late to give 
the warning. 

A Brave Deed. 

COLLINS was in the office of Judge 
McSweeney when Ginsberg blazed 
away at the escaping rustlers. He 
was a red-skinned, big-built, dark man 
with hard eyes and a coarse mouth. H s 
attitude was always overbearing and he 
shouted as he knew loud words scared 
most people. The judge was a very fat, 
kindly disposed old man. Many moons 
since he had been elected to rule this 
small settlement — way back in pioneer 
days. Not, a real judge but his massive 
body and slow manner of speech had 
earned him the title. 

"I reckon that's a break from gaol," 
roared Collins. "I told you I'd seen 
Gallagher and some of his gang in 

JaDuary 21st, 1933. 


"They wouldn't have the nerve," 
mumbled the judge. "I warned all 
citizens to shoot at sight if he started 

"If we don't want to lose those two 
skunks we'd better get movin'," shouted 

The two men went on to the small 
veranda outside the court house. 
Already people were appearing at the 
doors of the shacks. 
" Look 1 " 

Judge McSweeny followed the direc- 
tion of the pointing arm and saw Moe 
Ginsberg running. A shot rang out and 
Moe's hat went flying. The affable, 
quick-to-a-bargain, Jewish man of all 
trades, grabbed up his headwear and 
dived towards the corner of a shack. 

"There's Gallagher's gang!" Collins 
next shouted. "They're holding two 
spare horses. Ah, here comes Hank and 
Daniels. Gosh, how did they make a 

Collins and the judge drew their 

Jerry Sutton should have made his 
getaway or hidden, but instead the 
youngster rode straight into danger. 
Hank and Daniels were running towards 
the place where Gallagher had arranged 
to have horses. Young Sutton decided 
to ride down the main street as if 
nothing had happened. Buck Gallagher 
had told him to act in as innocent a 
manner as possible. 

"I bet Sutton played a part in this," 
shouted Collins. He raised his gun. 
"He's a double-crosser." 

"You can't shoot him, Collins," in- 
terposed the judge. "You gotta have 
proof. Shoot those other two skunks 
if you like, but not Sutton." 

Collins fired at Daniels but tho range 
was too far. At once Gallagher's men 
opened fire. From the doors of shacks 
the fire was returned. A bullet thudded 
into the woodwork close to the judge, 
who hastily took cover between the 
court-house and the next wooden shack. 
Whether it was a stray or a deliberate 
shot will never be proved, but Sutton 
swayed suddenly in the saddle and 
toppled in a heap to the dust of the 
street. There was a sly smile on the 
face of Collins. Who knows — he had 
loathed Jerry Sutton. 

A young man on a great white stal- 
lion was riding towards the town. A 
curly-haired, open-faced, handsome 
young fellow. Massive shoulders, frank, 
alive expression and square chin. How 
easily he rode the great horse and how 
carefree his whole attitude. 

But the happy smile vanished,^ in a 
flash as the sounds of shooting carried 
to him on the wind. He reined in his 

"Hullo, old pard." Kent Rogers 
looked down at his horse, whose ears 
were twitching. "What ye reckoning 
all that shooting can be about. When 
I go away something's sure to happen. 
Come on, pard. let's go see." 

Like the wind tho great white horse 
moved over the ground towards the 
town. Five minutes' hard riding and 
Rogers pulled Lightning to a sudden 
halt behind a shack. 

"This seems the safest place for you." 
Ho tossed the reins over a hitching rail 
and glanced down at his holster. 

Kent Rogers peered round tho shack 
at the main street. He was quick to 
sense the situation. Near tho saloon he 
could sco vague glimpses of a number 
of men and from their stetsons and 
clothing ho guessed them to be Galla- 
gher's men. Most of them were half- 
castes with Indian or Mexican blood in 
tlioir veins, and their rawhide clothes 
differed from the settlers. Besides, 
their faces were of darker hue. 

Every Tuesday 

From the firing Kent guessed that the 
citizens were giving Gallagher a warm 

A man darted out of hiding towards 
Kent and the youngster slid his hand 
towards his hip. , 

"Hullo, sheriff," Kent grinned all 
over his face. "You sure startled me. 
What's all the trouble ?" 

" Somehow those two skunks of 
Gallagher's broke out of gaol," was the 
answer. "It must have been a set-up 
because Buck Gallagher was in town 
when it happened and I know he had 
two spare horses. Hank and Daniels are 
with him now. Gallagher's men shoot 
too well to try a rush. They'll get to 
horse and ride away soon, and once 
more that coyote will have put one over 
on us." 

"The day that Gallagher swings will 
be a good day for Red Gulch," opined 
Kent. "Hullo, some poor guy has 
stopped a dose of lead." Cautiously he 
raised his head. " By heavens, it's 

"Someone fired from this side," ex- 
plained the sheriff. "Then Gallagher's 
men started shootin'. Expect Sutton 
stopped a stray. He ain't moved since. 

And you mean my buddy's been left 
out there," cried Kent. "He may be 
dying. Look, he's moving." 

"It's death to go out into the street." 
The sheriff shifted uncomfortably. 
"Gallagher's gang would pick you 

Jerry Sutton began to call out: 
"Water! Water!" 

Without further argument Kent 
Rogers glanced round and saw an empty 
bucket. This he filled from a water 

"You're goin' to your death, Kent, - 
gasped the sheriff. 

"I'd rather it be that way than skulk 
here," Kent grinned. "Nevar shall it 
be said that Kent Rogers was too yeller 
to help his pard. I ain't blaming you, 
sheriff, you got a wife and kids, and 
Jerry Sutton don't mean over much to 
some folks." 

And with that Kent Rogers, carrying 
the bucket of water, calmly walked out 
into the street. An easy target for 
either side. 

One of Buck's men raised a rifle, 
but the swarthy and crafty leader 
shouted an angrv order: "Put down 
that gun, you fool. He's going to help 
Jerry and Jerry's more useful alive than 

Collins' eyes had blazed as that erect 
figure stepped out into the sunlight. 
Up shot his pistol arm, but for' once the 
fat iudge moved swiftly and as the 
revolver exploded the aim was deflected. 

"You can't shoot Kent Rogers." 
The iudge was angry. "He's going out 
to give a wounded man water. You 
. ;m'i shoot a man for a brave deed like 

"He's Sutton's buddy." snarled the 
baffled Collins. "T don't trust either 
of them." 

" As regards Sutton the town agrees 
with ybn," quietly replied the judge. 
"But Rogers is one of the strnigli 
bravest youngsters I've met. I knew his 
father! and I've known him since he was 
a kid. Look at him now." 

Kent was kneeling beside his pal and 
bad raised his head. 

" Drink some water. Jerry." 

Weaklv the wounded man smiled and 
then drank eagerly of the water. 
Roeers saw blood on the face but could 
find no trace of any other wound. Ex- 
erting his strength he picked up Sutton 
in his arms, and without any sign of 
hurrving carried his burden to cover. 

"You've got a nerve!" the sheriff 
gasped at him. 

Every Tuesday 

"I'll get Jerry home to his mother," 
Kent Rogers placed the limp figure 
across the saddle of his horse. " I 
reckon it's only a crease. Say, sheriff, 
why not try and get those skunks from 
the rear?'' 

Buck Gallagher had a great respect 
for Kent Rogers, for the other members 
of Red Gulch he had none, and after the 
rescue of Jerry, Buck decided that there 
was nothing "to keep them. A signal 
to his men and they retreated to their 
horses. A thunder of hoofs and they 
were speeding towards the distant hills. 

Lupita and Buck Gallagher 

MRS. SUTTON was a grey-haired, 
charming woman and she was out 
of the small bungalow shack 
before Kent had hitched his horse. 

''I saw you from the window — I've 
been looking for Jerry." Her face was 
white with anxiety. "Whatcver's the 
matter with Jerry? He's been shot." 

Jerry had recovered consciousness but 
he was sagging limply in his pal's arm=. 

"I'm fine, mother," was his weak 
cry. "It's just a graze." 

"Put on some water to boil," said 
Kent "I'll need some bandages, too." 

The good woman fluttered back to the 
Tenderly Kent carried his buddy 
inside to the bedroom, took off the heavy 
boots and removed the dirty, blood- 
stained clothing. It was a relief to find 
that the head wound was the only injury. 

Mrs. Sutton bustled in with bandages 
and hot water. The blood was wiped 
rid Kent smiled reassuringly. 

"He'll have a nasty headache for a 
day or two," he told her. "Otherwise 
there's nothing to worry about." 

"But, Kent, I am worried," was her 


cry. "How did he come to get hurt. 
Was it anything to do with that dread- 
ful Buck Gallagher and his men?" 

"Jerry hadn't anything to do with it, 
mum," quickly answered Kent. "One 
of those shooting affrays broke out in 
town and Jerry got in the way of a 

"Are you telling me the truth?" 

"Why, mum, you don't think I'd lie 
to you ?" 

"About my son I wouldn't like to 
say." Mrs. Sutton pursed her lips. 
"If it weren't lor you, Kent Rogers, I 
don't know what would have happened 
to my boy. You've got him out of 
scrape after scrape." The sound of 
the latch of the outer door brought her 
to her feet. "Now who can that be?" 

A girl's voice made Kent Rogers 
frown with annoyance. That con- 
founded Lupita. A Spanish girl, who 
lived in a bungalow not far away from 
the Suttons. The latter were nesters. 
though old man Sutton had been a 
rancher who had prospered ; after his 
death Mis. Sutton had stayed on and 
contented herself with poultry and 
vegetables, because her husband had 
left enough money to enable her to live 
in a certain amount of comfort. It had 
been her secret ambition that Jerry 
would try and build up his father's old 
ranch — a vain hope. Lupita rented a 
bungalow on their property, and Mrs. 
Sutton had reason to regret the coming 
of the Spanish girl. Jerry was in- 
fatuated with Lupita, who danced in 
the saloon and flirted with all men. 

"My Jerry, I see him come!" cried 
Lupita. "He is much hurt. I go see 
him — ho want me." 

Dark, vivacious, pretty, but the ex- 


pression was too animated. She was 
so used to admiration from men, and 
Mrs. Sutton told Kent Rogers more 
than once that "Lupita had wicked 
eyes. " 

"My boy cannot be seen." stated 
Mrs. Sutton, with arms across ample 
bosom. "He's been hurt." 

"Oh, but I must see him." pleaded 
Lupita. "He will need me if he is ill." 

Kent Rogers opened the door of the 
bed-room and shut it after him. 
Lupita's bold eyes lit up at sight of 
him. Santa Maria, but what a man. 
Lupita liked Jerry and he gave her 
many presents, but always she had had 
a secret passion for this cold, handsome 
and daring cowboy. Moreover, sho 
had tried her wiles on him. but with 
no effect, and, if anything, that had 
increased her passion for him. 

"You can't see Jerry now." Kent 
was firm. "There's nothing much the 
matter with him — just a bullet graze, 
but he ought to rest up for a spell." 

"Oh, my poor Jerry." 

Of course the half-dozing Jerry would 
hear her, wake up. and call her name. 
Lupita rushed to the bed-room. Ken: 
shrugged his shoulders and stared at the 
mother in a helpless fashion. 

"I wish you could get Jerry away 
from here." fiercely spoke Mrs. .Sutton. 
"The influence of Buck Gallagher and 
that girl are ruining his life.'' 

"I'm constantly going across the 
border into Arizona," Rogers replied. 
"I get plenty of work offered me, and 
I know I could fix Jerry in an outfit, 
but it's mighty difficult to get him a»av 
from Red Gulch. He wants to get away 
from Buck Gallagher, but he don't like, 
leaving Lupita." 

Stick 'em up^!" he rasped. "As I always thought I 

This time I've caught you in the act I " 

January 2lst, 1933. 


"I wouldn't mind staying here if I 
thought that boy of mine was in a good 
job in Arizona." 

"I'll get him there some time," 
laughed Kent. " And when he's fixed, 
he'll send for you." 

" Oh, Kent, you're like a son !" Mrs. 
Sutton put her arms round the big 
cowboy. "I don't know what " 

Heavy footfalls made them both 
glance towards the shack door. With- 
out knocking a man raised the latch 
and walked in. 

Buck Gallagher was as tall as Kent. 
A half-caste with a leering, unpleasant 
face. His ugly mouth was half-hidden 
by a wispy, straggling moustache. In 
his arms he carried a rifle. 

Without removing his hat or taking 
liny notice of Mrs. Sutton he spoke to 
Kent Rogers : 

"Guess that was slick work of yourn, 
Rogers. How is he? Badly hurt?" 

"No, but no thanks are due to you." 
Kent clenched his fists. " What do you 
want with him ?" 

"He rendered me a service to-day," 
Gallagher grinned in a sleek, contemp- 
tuous fashion. "I would thank him." 

" Well, you can thank him some 
other time!" snapped Rogers. "And 
take my tip and stay away. It ain't 
healthy round these parts." 

The gun pointed towards the cowboy. 

" I do not know what danger means. 
I have come to see Jerry Sutton, and 
I suggest that you stand aside — if you 
value your health." 

Kent Rogers moved as swiftly as a 
hawk. His left hand flung up the 
scoundrel's gun, whilst the right con- 
nected with a thud to the unshaven 

The blow took the man by surprise, 
and he staggered back, lost his balance 
and crashed to the floor. His rifle had 
fallen from his hand. Snarling like a 
wild beast and mouthing Mexican 
oaths, ho rushed blindly at Rogers, who 
lashed out with a right and left. 

Gallagher was hurled back as if he 
had been hit by a battering-ram. He 
sailed out of the doorway and flopped 
on to the veranda. A moment later his 
rifle was tossed after him. 

"Get out and stay out !" rapped Kent 
Rogers, with one hand close to his hip. 
"Ycu'rc not seeing Jerry to-day." 

"One day I get you for this!" Gal- 
lagher was shaking with fury, but he 
was wise enough to know that, for the 
moment, he was beaten. "One day I 
square my account with yon." 

"Perhaps I'll settle yours for good," 
was the scornful answer. "Better get 

' From the doorway of Jerry Sutton's 
room Lupita had seen most of the 
scene. Never before had she seen 
Gallagher knocked down, or even heard 
of anyone daring to do such a deed. 

"What a man !" she sighed. 

The Condemned List of the Vigilantes. 

KENT ROGERS told Mrs. Sutton to 
summon the doctor for her son. 
"The doc's a good scout," Kent 
advised. "You and he are great friends. 
Get him to insist that Jerry stays in 
bed for a few days. Let him pretend 
the wound is worse than it is. Jerry 
may be mixed up in this last racket, 
and it's best that we keep him sick. 
I'm going down town to find out what 

That evening, Kent Rogers received 
a message from Judge McSweeney that 
his presence was needed at a meeting 
to bo held at the ranch-house of Henry 

Wondering what the meeting was 
about, Kent turned up at the appointed 
hour. He found ten of the' chief men 

January 21st. 1933. 


of the town, with Judge McSwceney in 
the chair. 

There was a grave and serious air 
about these men. Kent Rogers noticed 
how they eyed him curiously, and he 
wondered what this portended. There 
were papers on the table, and it was 
evident that some discussion had taken 

"I'm glad you're here, Rogers." 
Judge McSweeney stood up. "This 
meeting has come to a resolution, and 
it has been decided to ask you to join 
us — to become a member." 

"You are forming a society," ques- 
tioned Rogers, " may I ask the pur- 

" I wonder you can't guess I" The 
hot-headed Collins leaned across the 

"Perhaps I can," was the calm reply. 

"The facts are these." The judge 
cleared his throat. "The town of Red 
Gulch was a prosperous, go-ahead 
settlement, and we were growing in 
size and importance until a dirty crook 
and his bunch of half-caste scoundrels 
chanced on this valley. Since that day 
we've had our cattle rustled, our 
ranches robbed and our stages held up. 
Buck Gallagher is the skunk I mean. 
He rides through this town with his 
bunch of roughnecks and defies us. 
That bunch don't hesitate to shoot, kill 

and pillage, but the time has come " 

He paused. "When this must cease. 
The citizens of Red Gulch have decided 
that this menace to our future existence 
must be destroyed. " 

A hoarse roar of agreement came from 
all the men gathered round the table. 

"We have decided to form ourselves 
into a band of vigilantes," continued 
the judge. "To wipe out this pest and 
any others that may disturb the peace 
of Red Gulch. Are you prepared, 
Kent Rogers, to take the oath in allegi- 
ance ?" 

"We have made a list of neople whom 
we shall exterminate." Collins grinned 

Kent Rogers wondered what was be- 
hind the man's smile. 

" I'm dead set against Gallagher and 
his gang," was his answer. " I'm 

honoured to be asked to become a vigi- 
lante if it is the aim to wipe out that 

"And others," interposed Collins. 

" Let him swear the oath on the 
Bible," Judge McSweeney cried. 

So Kent Rogers was sworn in as a 

"Now to get to business," the judge 
said. "Every person whom we consider 
as undesirable will receive a warning. 
He will have twenty-four hours to leave 
this district and to return means death." 

"We have the names on this list." 
Collins picked up a paper. "Perhaps, 
judge, our young friend would like to 
see the names?" 

"Let him read them!" There was a 
hesitant attitude about the judge that 
puzzled Kent, but when he looked down 
that list of names the explanation was 

Among the names was that of Jerry 
Sutton ! 

What Kent Overheard. 

KENT ROGERS had to think quickly 
when the meeting of the vigilantes 
had ended. So far the only deci- 
sion was that all those on the list should 
get a playing card with skull and 
crossbones on it. If these warnings did 
not quieten down the gangsters or drive 
them away, then the vigilantes would 
adopt sterner methods : 

"If Collins gets his way he'll fix it 
that I have to shoot Jerry," Kent 
Rogers thought to himself. "Provided 

Every Tuesday 

there are no more shootings or rob- 
beries Jerry is fairly safe, but if Galla- 
gher starts trouble the vigilantes will 
declare war on all those on that list. 
I wish I could get Jerry away from — 
by gar, I've got it !" 

Next morning Kent visited Sheriff 
Hartman. The sheriff had informed the 
cowboy that on his return from his 
hunting trip the town required him to 
guide a valuable wagon train through 
the hills into Arizona. 

" Sheriff, I want Jerry Sutton to take 
my place," pleaded Kent. "Now I'm 
a vigilante I want to stay around here 
and watch out for Gallagher and his 
bunch. Also I want to get Jerry out 
of this town. Once I get him out he'll 
stay out !" 

"But, Kent, he's on that list," argued 
the sheriff. "And I'm certain that the 
break-out from gaol was " 

" Sheriff, you know as well as I do 
that Jerry's a good lad," interrupted 
Rogers. "I could tell you how Re first 
got lured into Gallagher's mob, but it's 
just the tale of a lad who was not wise 
to crooks and their ways. Once in the 
web he couldn't get out. I admit that 
Jerry hasn't made much of a fight, but 
Gallagher has threatened him with all 
kinds of tough breaks and Jerry hasn't 
dared to break free. One threat was to 
burn down his mother's homestead, and 
another that they would build up a tale 
of robbery and bloodshed to give to you 
— of course the chief rogue was to be 
Jerry. Now you see the kind of mess 
he's in. He knows the trail into Arizona 
as well as I do — knows every danger 
spot — knows the weather conditions — 
where water-holes exist — where to camp 
— in fact, he'd be better than I as a 
guide." Here his young face became 
tense. " Besides, it's the chance to get 
Jerry away. You know, sheriff, what 
old man Sutton did for Red Gulch, and 
so does the judge. Ho did more for 
this town than most men." 

"You're right there, Kent," the 
sheriff had to admit. 

And Kent Rogers got his own way. 
The sheriff went with the youngster to 
talk to the judge. Finally Collins had 
to be consulted, and he made a great 
protest, but it was the judge and the 
sheriff against his opinion. 

"You'll regret this," shouted Collins. 
"What's more, if you insist on this 
folly I demand that I am put in charge 
of the wagon train." 

"That seems fair enough," admitted 
the judge. 

Kent's next argument was with Jerry 
Sutton. That young man had found, 
tucked into his saddle, a playing-card 
with the vigilantes' warning on it and it 
had shaken him. He listened to his 
pal's plans. 

"I'm not quitting Red Gulch," he 
blustered. "I've got mother to think 

"Don't lie to me," cried Kent. "She's 
the last person you'd consider. But for 
Lupita you wouldn't hesitate to take 
this great chance of a new life." 

Jerry Sutton made no answer, but 
stared sulkily at the ground. 

"You've had a warning sent you," 
insisted Kent. "Ever heard of the 
vigilantes ? They moan business. Stay 
here and you're as good as dead, and 
Lupita doesn't want a dead man as a 
sweetheart. If you're so plumb crazy 
on this girl why not guide tho train 
into Arizona and ask her to come and 
join you?" 

"I don't think she likes Arizona." 

"Then she can't be very fond of you." 
argued Kent. "And what's the use of 
risking your neck for a girl who wont 
make a small sacrifice like that. This 
is your chance to start a new life and 

Every Tuesday 

te find out if Lupita really does care 
for you." 

"All right, I'll go," decided Jerry. 
"When does the train start?" 

"Soon after daybreak !" 

By sheer misfortune Buck Gallagher 
rode into town before dawn. One of 
his spies had sent him word that things 
were happening. The train had been 
kept as secret as possible. 

There were four prairie schooners and 
a consignment of gold. The latter was 
to purchase stores and other commodi- 
ties, with a residue to go for safe keep- 
ing to the bank. The train carried a 
number of pelts to be sold and some ore 
deposits which were to be analysed for 
possible valuable products. 

Buck Gallagher woke up the saloon- 
keeper, who was in his pay. He learnt 
that some of the townsfolk had been 
busy most of the night. 

"There is a rumour that Jerry Sutton 
is guidin' the train." 

How the man's expression changed. 

"Good work, Gonzala ! I will go and 
find him." 

On the pommel of his saddle was the 
warning of the vigilantes. 

what do I care about their 
threats!" was his scornful cry, and he 
tore the card into fragments. 

Gallagher told his men to remain 
close to the saloon, and not to show 
themselves unless they heard firing. 
Soon as dawn broke the town woke to 
life, and the preparations for getting 
the wagon-train away commenced. The 
half-caste waited until Jerry Sutton 
appeared. Like a shadow he slithered 
out of hiding and made for one of the 
schooners, where Jerry was fixing a 
lynch-pin to one of the wheels. 

"Jerry!" The whisper made the 
youngster look round. 

" Hallo, Buck I" Jerry shuffled his 

"So you get well very quick I" 
■ ! Gallagher. 

"The wound wasn't u bad as the doc 
first thought," was the answer. "They 
wanted to keep me in bed. but I wasn't 
standin' for it ; and then they reckoned 
that I weren't very bad." 

"And now you guide this wagon train 


through the- canyons into Arizona?" 
whispered Buck. "That is good news." 

Kent Rogers hitched his horse out- 
side the sheriff's office. He wanted to 
have a final talk with Jerry about 
camping places on the trail, and a 
ranch where Jerry could get a job. It 
was Kent's idea to bring Mrs. Sutton 
along with him in a month or so's time 
— after Gallagher and his gang had been 
cleaned up. 

Kent pulled up. He overheard the 
murmur of voices and a Mexican oath. 
At once his suspicions were aroused. 
Cautiously he peered round the schooner 
to see Buck Gallagher and his buddy. 

Gallagher had pulled his stetson over 
his face lest anyone might recognise 
him. The schooners had just been 
brought from a barn, and all the goods 
were not yet ready for loading, so that 
no one was abroad. The crook had 
chosen the moment well. 

"You will take the trail that leads 
through Blind Gulch," Gallagher was 
saying. "It is sheer rock on both sides. 
Directly the train is in the gulch I will 
ride down from cover and come up the 
gulch after them. I shall have some of 
my men at the end of the gulch, and 
they will be caught like rats in a trap." 

"I'll not do this!" cried Jerry. 

" You will get a big share of the 
spoils," insisted Gallagher. " If you 
play me false I can supply these vigi- 
lantes with enough evidence to make 
them lynch you on the spot. What 
chanoo of escape have you with the 
vigilantes and Buck Gallagher on your 
trail ? One way lies death, and the other 

" I won't do this dirty doublc-crosMii' 
trick,'' Jerry 6aid hoarsely. "I won't 
betray my friends." 

"And you won't betray me'." Gal- 
lagher threatened. "If you wish to live 
you do as I say. Do you 6wcar to obey 
niv on!' 

"All right, I'll do it." 

Kent Rogers clenched his teeth. After 
all he had done to save his friend, 
Jerry was going to help this skunk. 

The train was not due to start for 
another hour. Kent heard Gallagher bid 
his confederate farewell, and derided to 


hide. He darted to the shelter of the 
second schooner, and saw Gallagher run 
towards the 6aloon and disappear. Only 
the youngster saw those half-ca=te 
scoundrels get to horse and ride away. 

His brain would not formulate any 
scheme save that of revealing Jerry's 
cowardly action. That would mean 
certain death. 

He walked round and confronted his 
friend, though no plan had come to hi9 
nimble brain. It was his hope that 
Jerry might confess. 

"The wheel'6 fixed." Jerry straight- 
ened his back. "Guess I'll go along and 
bid my mother and Lupita good-bye." 

"I'll ride with you," Kent answered, 
and his eyes gleamed, because now he 
saw a way to save the train and Jerry 

Desperate Measures. 

JERRY SUTTON bade his mother 
good-bye, and Kent Rogers remained 
with the heartbroken woman for a 
few minutes, then he made some excuse 
and left. He saw that Jerry's horse was 
hitched outside the shack of Lupita. 

Kent rode across, hitched his own 
horse, and walked up to the shack door. 
Without ceremony he raised the latch 
and entered. 

"Hallo!" Sutton had his arms round 
Lupita, who did not seem eager to be 
kissed. He glared at his pal. "Can't 
you leave me alone for a few moments? 
I shan't see Lupita for a long spell.'' 

The expression on Kent's face was 
bard and lowering. Not often did he 
feel mad with rage, but the thought' 
that Jerry, for whom he had done so 
DSUCh, was going to betray the wagon- 
train into the hands of Buck Gallagher 
and his gang made him furious. 

"If Lupita knew what kind of a 
double-crosser you were she might 
change towards you." Kent spoke 
tempt uously. 

"Don't you talk like that to me!" 
was sulky at having to [) 
Lupita, and now this from Kent rousi I 
the worst in him. 

" I know what you're planning to do," 
Kent retorted. "And I think you're the 

Oh, please, you not do this I " she cried. "You shoot him dead now if you like, but not fight the duel. 

Please not, Kent I '* 

January 21st, 1933. 


most underhand skunk it's been my mis- 
fortune to ever befriend." 

"That's a lie!" Jerry left Lupita and 
rushed towards Kent. " You take back 
those words !" 

Crash ! Kent Rogers hit him a mighty 
blow on the chin that dropped Jerry like 
a log. 
Lupita screamed. 
" You beast ! You bully !" 
Her fingers were crooked as if she 
would scratch out his eyes. 

"Lay off!" rasped Kent. "I did this 
for his own good. Get me some rope to 
tic him up I" 

"Tie him up !" Lupita was 6tartled. 
"But why you do this?" 

"Listen, Lupita." Kent was kneeling 
beside the. still figure. "I don't hit a 
buddy a blow like that for no reason. I 
overheard Jerry talking with Buck Gal- 
lagher, and that skunk ordered him to 
take the train along the upper trail 
through Blind Gulch, where the gang 
v o ild lay in wait to trap the train. 
And" — here his face hardened — "Jerry 
6\vore he would do it." 

"Oh!" Lupita cried. "That bad man 
he make poor Jerry do dreadful things. 
But what are you going to do?" 

" I want to bind his legs and arms and 
leave him here," decided the youngster. 
"Have you a cupboard where he can be 
hidden so that none can find him ? The 
train is due to start in a few moments. 
I will ride to Red Gulch and say that 
I'm going to guide them after all, and I 
shall take the lower trail. When the 
wagons arc past the danger I will return 
and take Jerry away with me to 

"You do much for your friend," 
Lupita sighed. "Jerry is lucky to have 
th" friendship of such a one as you." 

"Pah, it's nothing!" Kent made an 
impatient gesture. "A rope or some- 
thing to tie him up, Lupita, as time 

The dazed and bound Jerry Sutton 
was placed in a cupboard. 

" It does not lock, but the latch is on 
this side." Lupita for all her bold eyes 
was a girl of spirit. Her devotion to 
Jerry and her secret love for Kent were 
genuine. "I see no harm come to him." 
"Good, and now I must ride like the 
wind." Kent grabbed up his hat. "That 
hot-head Collins is in charge of the train, 
and he is a difficult person to handle." 
Red Gulch was sweltering in the heat 
as Kent rode in, and his keen eyes noted 
that there was no sign of the wagon- 
train. Ginsberg came out of his store. 
"Hallo. Kent, you seem in a hurry." 
" Where's the train ?" 
"Started some while ago." Ginsberg 
gestured with his hands. "Jerry not 
show up and so Collins .start. He say 
he know the trail an' that he can guide 
the train as well as any man. Where 
is Jerry ?" 

"He couldn't make it — he's sick," 
Kent replied. "How far will the train 
have got by now, Moe?" 

"Two or three miles, Kent; but 
what's worritin' you?" 

"Confound that fool. Collins!" mut- 
tered Kent, and swung round his horse's 

"I have the feclin' that somethm's 
wrong." Ginsberg fingered his chin as 
Kent rode hard down the street. "I 
wonder what happen this time?" 

Collins Refuses to Listen. 

KENT urged his mount, to its limit. 
Dried-up streams were jumped 

and steep banks were slid down in 
order to cut off portions of the winding 
trail. Always he scanned the distance 
for sign of the train. That fool Collins 
would go at a fast pace. 
January 21st, 1933. 


Not till Kent was within two miles of 
Blind Gulch did he sight a cloud of 
dust ahead. 

"Get agoin', old-timer!" Kent cried 
to his animal, and the horse seemed to 

Blind Gulch was a winding trail be- 
tween a boulder-strewn ravine that at 
some time had been a water-course. It 
was just wide enough to allow a cart to 
pass. On open ground, scarce half a 
mile from the gulch, Kent overtook the 

Collins was in the load. 
" Collins — Collins, pull up !" yelled 
Kent. " You're riding into danger." 
Collins slowed but did not stop. 
"And now what's the game? Where's 
your double-crossing friend?" 

"I know that Buck Gallagher is lay- 
ing a trap for the train in Blind Gulch," 
Kent shouted. " Once you're in the 
gulch Gallagher will ride down from the 
hills and cover your retreat. Others of 
the gang are at the head of the pass 
It's a trap." 

"I don't believe a word you say." 
Collins was a boastful, braggart type, 
and he wanted the glory of taking the 
wagon-train through to Arizona. " It's 
another frame-up." 

By now the train was close to the 
gulch, and Kent turned in his saddle. 
He pointed. 

"Now am I a liar," he yelled. "Can 
you see those horsemen?" 

Collins swung his horse away from the 
train to 6tare back. Not half a mile 
back twenty or more horsemen were 
riding down the hillside. Even as ho 
looked some of them reached the trail 
and turned their animals towards the 

"We've been betrayed!" screamed 

"You fool!" Kent was mad at this 
man's stubbornness. "Why don't you 
stop the train?" 

"Because I don't believe your yarn 
about the gulch!" bellowed Collins. 
"Once through the gulch and we're 
safe." He turned to the driver of the 
leading schooner. "Drive like the wind, 
Bill — Gallagher's after us." 

"Your only chance is to stand and 
make a fight.'' 

"You go to blazes!" jeered Collins. 
"If you're so mighty heroic stay and 
fight them yourself." 

The wagon train cluttered into Blind 
Gulch, and with a sinking heart Rogers 
wheeled to one side to let it pass. The 
dust cleared, and not a hundred yards 
away were Gallagher and his friends. 

Out flashed Kent's gun, and. swiftly 
dismounting, he took cover behind a 
Crack ! Crack ! 

Kent Rogers was a marksman. With 
a rifle he could hit a tin at three hun- 
dred yards, and with a revolver he was 
deadly accurate. Two of the gang 
toppled from their saddles. 

Gallagher swung his men away from 
the trail, but not before Kent had 
emptied two more saddles. 

Bullets whined very close to Kent a6 
he dodged behind the rock. Now and 
again he would jump from hiding and 
blaze away. Sounds of shooting came 
to him from farther up the gulch, and 
he decided that more good might be 
done with the train than firing at men, 
who were too well hidden to hit. 

A leap to the back of Lightning and 
he dashed along the gulch. 

Looking upwards, he saw two men be- 
hind a rock. They had been shooting 
at the train and now were standing up 
to watch what happened. Crack, crack! 
barked Kent's gun, and he had claimed 
two more victims. 

Every Tuesday 

Kent's face was white and drawn as 
he came upon a smashed schooner. One 
of the horses was down, shot, and 
another was pawing and screaming with 
fear. Prone across the seat was a still 

Bullets whistled by Kent as he dashed 
past. Another prairie schooner had 
crashed into the rocks after the driver 
had been shot. A horse and rider, part 
of the escort, were dead and sprawled 
across the road. A bullet whined 
through Kent's sombrero, and he saw 
a man peering from behind a boulder. 

Crack ! A scream of pain was the 

Another smashed schooner and Rogers 
did not dare to look ahead at three 
bodies in the road — part of the escort, 
and the horses had probably bolted on 
ahead. There were sounds ahead that 
spurred on the cowboy in a desperate 

The trail was mounting, and not far 
away was the head of the pass. He 
bore a charmed life, for Gallagher had 
stationed ten or more men among tho 

One of the schooners was still on its 
four wheels and making a bold bid for 
safety. Kent knew that Deputy Gordon 
was the driver. With a burst of speed 
the daring rider drew alongside and 
flung himself from the saddle into the 
rocketing schooner. 

The skunks had even loosened rocks 
to drop on the train and part of the 
covering had been smashed in by 
boulders. It was Kent's idea to find 
some sort of cover among the wreckage 
and return the fire of the attackers. 
Two more men did Kent hit before a 
shot killed the driver. 

The schooner lurched across the trail. 
On the last stage of Blind Gulch the 
trail led upwards, and on one side was a 
drop of thirty yards to the old water- 
course, which was now overgrown with 
ferns and small trees. A wheel went 
over, the horses were mad with fear, 
but had the sense to swing away from 
the danger. The shafts snapped, and 
the derelict wagon toppled over the edge, 
turned several somersaults and crumpled 
to matchwood as it crashed into a 

Deputy Gordon was hard hit before 
the schooner crashed into the old stream. 
A pile of splintered wood and no sign 
of life — somewhere in that wreckage was 
Kent Rogers. 

A Fiendish Frame-Up. 

BUCK GALLAGHER and his men 
hurriedly searched the three 
schooners that had been wrecked 
in the gulch and then made off with 
their dead and wounded for the hills. 
The half-caste was mad with rage over 
the number of men he had lost, and 
was scared to stay too long in case a 
posse appeared from the town. Ho 
figured that if Kent had ridden on 
ahead to warn Collins, then the posse 
would not 'be far behind. Being 
cautious, he ordered his men to the 
hills with the loot — he would explore 
the gulch later for the vanished fourth 

What had happened to Collins during 
the attack? He had soon found out 
that his folly had led the train into a 
death-trap. His horse was shot from 
under him, and he was flung off. For 
a few minutes he lay knocked out, and 
on recovery crawled to a niche between 
some boulders. Hero he skulked, shak- 
ing with fear. But his courage returned 
when Buck Gallagher and the gang rode 
away with the loot and their casualties. 

Kent Rogers had become enfolded in 
the canvas, and that had broken his 
(Continued on page 23.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 17 

West of Zanzibar on the Ivory Trail, at grips with the sinister Shillov, White Overlord 

Of Darkest Africa's Bush. A grand serial-drama of a strange quest that was fraught with 

Peril and Intrigue. Starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jun., and Cecelia Parker. 



Returning to Zanzibar from a hunt- 
epedition in Central Africa, Kirk 
M ■/■•mi i '/ and Fred Oaket volunteer 
to help liarbara Morgan and In r father 
to locate the girl's brother, who dis- 
appeared during a quest for one million 
of buried ivory, hir/j/en by a long- 
dead ilave-trader, Tipoo ■• 

The expedition arouses tht interest of 
Belle Waldri n, a scheming adventuress, 
'as*. In r swaggering 
omplice, and th-ese leave Zan- 
zibar at the tame time as the Morgan 
party, who engage KazimotO, a faithful 
Arab, as guide and. interpreter. 
In fie ii, ■ Morgan 

i establish themselves at the villayi 
of a native chief, Imzuiiki. While a 
di /jarts in search of game, Bar- 
the bush with Kazimoto 
'irn the truth of a strange story 
j Zungu, a creature said to 
form of a man, but a 
tth greater than a lion. 

p a strange friend- 

i Zungu, but In r party r 

tin Shtllov, a 

/reams of 

, nling Central Africa with his 

a the Morgan party know the 

us of the i /. Waldron 

in trap them, ami 

to them viith a story that Jack 

Morgan is at Shillov's tamp, 

Barbara's father Hi s ill with fever, 

but Monty, Fml and. the girl accom- 

I /telle under the impression that 

settlement is empty. They 

i his bungalow to find, tin in 

,,ih, I /,,/ the scoundrel ami his 
armed hint 

Now Read On. 


The Taking of Zungu. 

MONTY, Fred and Barbara were 
prisoners, ensnared in Shillov's 
camp by the guile of the woman 
Belle Waldron. There was no possible 
chance of escape, and nothing to be 
gained by resistance. They could only 
pretend to resign themselves to their 
fate, in the hope that some opportunity 
of making a bid for freedom might occur 
later on. 

"Montgomery," Belle Waldron said, 

"you should have kept out of Africa, or 

f.uling that, shown some willingness to 

■ the secret of Tipoo Tib's ivory 

with us." 

Monty bit his lip. 

"We don't know anything about the 
ivory," he retorted. "You and Shillov 
have got it into your fool heads that 
we can tell you where it's buried, but I 
tell you again that you're barking up 
tin- wrong tree." 

The denial, true as it was, did not 
impress his listeners, who merely 
imagined that he was bluffing. 

" You're not prepared to talk, ch ?" 
growled Shillov. "Well, you and 
Oaket can cool off for the night in our 
gaol, and I'll attend to you in due 
course. After you've been here for some 
time we may manage to persuade you 
that your reluctance to give any in- 
formation is not exactly healthy. Take 
them away, men. No, not Miss Morgan 
— she will ocupy one of the guest-rooms 
in the bungalow. I regard her as an 
honoured hostage." 

II poke the last words with a leer, 
and held (irm in the grip of Krot.-ky and 
another rogue, Monty strained towards 
Shillov and voiced a threat. 

"You harm her, you hound, and you'll 
have the British Government to deal 
with!" he ground out. 

Shillov laughed mockingly. 

"They don't even know of my 

:ne," he observed. "But they will 

one day, and by then I'll havo nothing 

to fear from any government. I'll be 

the emperor of Central Africa, Mont- 

ry, and a law unto myself." 

"That's a dream you'll never realise," 
the youngster scoffed. " You're mad to 
iplato it." 

"Time will prove whether I'm mad 
or not." Shillov snarled. "Go on, men, 
take Montgomery and Oakes away." 

Monty and Fred were dragged from 
the bungalow, and at Shi true- 

Barbara was taken to a bark room 
of t lie dwelling. Shillov and B 
Waldron were then left alone, and the 
woman from Zanzibar looked at her 
accomplice swiftly, a little resentfully! 

"I don't see why the Morgan gill 

d have any .privileges," ihe 

■napped' jealously. "You should have 

put her in the slave-hut with tl 

black women, like yon did once before." 

Shillov grinned at her and Jiook his 

" I had intended to," he confessed, 
"but on second thoughts 1 changed my 
mind. She is uncommonly beautiful, 
Belle — uncommonly beautiful." 

"Listen," Belle told him fiercely, 
"you needn't think you're going to 
throw mo over for her. She wouldn't 
look at you, anyway." 

"She might not have any choice in 
the matter," Shillov answered, his eyes 
narrowing viciously. "And whatever I 
January 21st, 1033. 


did, Belle Waldron, I'd want no inter- 
ference from you. Don't forget that I'm 
master here, and I'm responsible for my 
actions to no one. I'd advise you not 
to make yourself unpleasant or you 
might find yourself in that slave-hut you 
Belle shot a bitter glance at him. 
"So this is the way you show your 
gratitude to me for bringing Mont- 
gomery here!" she cried. "A fine fool 
I've been " 

"Oh, keep your mouth shut!" the man 
broke in impatiently. "I've enough on 
my mind without you making trouble. 
There's that supply column from the 
oast, for instance, bringing ammunition 
and stores to the settlement. It should 
have been here by now, and we're 
running pretty short." 

With this abrupt change of conversa- 
tion he began to pace up and down the 
living-room, and he had been walking 
to and fro for some little time when 
there was a commotion at the stockade 

A minute or two later Krotsky came 
hurrying into the bungalow. 

"The safari from the east, Shillov, ' 
he said. "They're here minus the 
supplies, and the native oearers are in 
a panic. It seems that Zungu pounced 
into the middle of them a little way 
from the encampment and they let go 
of everything— took to their heels in 

Shillov's face became livid. 

"Zungu!" he grated. "So he's on the 
rampage again, is he? Well, we've got 
to have those supplies. Tell those 
bearers to go back for them or they II 
feel the lash of the whip." 

"They're demoralised with fear, 
Krotsky panted. "Nothing would in- 
duce them to return, not even threats. ' 

Shillov scowled at these words, and 
then raising up his clenched fist he 
banged it savagely on a table that 
stood near by. 

"It's time I put an end to this 
Zungu!" he blazed. "Muster some of 
the men and capture him, you under- 
stand ? Get him alive— a lion net will 
do the trick if you can draw close 
enough to him." 

"Would it not be better to put a 
bullet through him?" Krotsky 

"You heard what I said!" Shillov 
barked. "Get him alive! I want these 
blacks to hear Zungu cry aloud with 

Krotsky nodded, and going out into 
the compound called a number of the 
other white men together. They were 
armed to the teeth, and a strong net 
having been fetched the party made 
tracks for the jungle, following the path 
by which the terrified bearers of the 
Bafari had approached the camp. 

They had not penetrated far into the 
bush when they heard a wild roaring 
somewhere ahead. It was the unmis- 
takable and half-human voice of 
Zungu, and signing to his companions 
to move with caution Shillov's lieuten- 
ant stole forward. 

A hundred yards farther on the group 
of men suddenly came in sight of a 
small clearing, and in the middle of 
this they saw their precious stores being 
scattered in all directions by the 
massive, hairy figure of the jungle 

The instinct to destroy was paramount 
in Zungu's breast, and his great hands 
were playing havoc with the supplies. 
Hi back was towards the Europeans, 
and Krotsky realised at once that the 
moment was ripe for a quick rush. 

"Come on!" Shillov's henchman 
jerked. "And don't make any blunder 
with that net!" 

Jauuarv 21st, 1933. 


The band ot wlme men charged, and 
Zungu was not aware or tnem until they 
were wimiu a lew paces, iie whipped 
round tneu, every muscle ot his body 
tense, but he was too late to protect 
hunseit, lor even as he turned the net 
wa» hung over him. 

A harsn bellow ot rage burst from 
Ins throat, xie struggled furiously, but 
he was caugtit lainy in the toils and, 
hurling themselves at his legs, Krotsky 
and his comiaclcs overthrew mm. .Next 
moment the net had been made secure 
around his writhing form, and, a stout 
pole being produced, Zungu was borne 
away like a trapped beast. 

The triumphant party retraced their 
steps through the bush, four men taking 
the pole on their shoulders, and Zungu 
swinging helplessly in the net, which 
now nung irom that pole. In this fashion 
Krotsky s band and their captive entered 
the stockade gateway of the Shillov en- 
campment, and, once in the compound, 
they Hung the ensnared prisoner roughly 
on the ground. 

The news that Zungu had been caught 
was already spreading like wildfire 
through the settlement, and, with eager 
cries, black men and white came running 
to . jeer at that figure which had 
formerly filled them with awe, but which 
was now powerless to do them any 

Boris Shillov emerged from his 
bungalow, and, his ugly face alight 
with satisfaction, strode across to where 
Zungu lay battling with the net. 

"Good work, Krotsky, good work," 
Shillov declared, and then, leering at 
the strange, half-human captive : " Well, 
who's master now?" he cried mockingly. 

Zungu could not understand the words, 
but he knew that some taunt was being 
made, and the scream of rage with which 
he answered it caused Shillov to step 
back with involuntary alarm. But he 
was reassured as he saw that the monster 
man's efforts to escape from the net 
were futile, and with a smile he turned 
to Krotsky once more. 

"Have the signal drum beaten," he 
ordered. " Send out word to all the 
jungle that Shillov has captured the 
bushman's foe, and all who care to come 
are invited to the feast and celebration 
which is to be held here to-night." 

"Fine," Krotsky rejoined. "By 
thunder, Shillov. this is going to stand 
you in strong with the blacks. You'll 
have more allies than ever among the 
tribes. And in the meantime, what's to 
be done with Zungu?" 

"Lock him up," Shillov replied. 
"We'll keep him till after the feast, 
and then we'll put an end to him before 
all our bushman guests." 

Again the captive was raised, and 
this time he was carried f o a wooden 
cage. He was pitched inside bodilv. and. 
the door of the prison being padlocked 
and chained, he was left howling in a 
paroxysm of fury, still grappling with 
the folds of the net that enveloped him. 

Plan of Cscaon 

FROM a cage similar to the one into 
which Zungu had been thrown, 
Kirk Montgomery and Fred Oakes 
had witnessed the triumphant arrival 
of Krotsky's party, and had watched 
with interest all that had ensued. 

Now they stood with their eyes fixed 
upon the monster man. and they were 
gazing into the adjoining cage at his 
writhing form when they suddenly heard 
their names spoken in a familiar voice. 

" Meester Montgomery. Meoster 

They turned their heads, and saw 
Georges Coutlass standing just outside 
the door of their prison. lie had hailed 
them in a low guarded tone, and was 

Every Tuesday 

now beckoning to them surreptitiously. 

They moved across to the Greek, and 
Monty spoke. 

"What do you want?" he demanded 

Coutlass was in an awkward situation, 
and felt very much like a man seated 
near a crater of a volcano that was 
threatening eruption. The volcano in 
this instance was Shillov, and, knowing 
too well that ho did not rank high in 
the latter's estimation, the swaggering 
Greek was already repenting of his 
attempt to join the man's forces. 

Was he not virtually a prisoner ? And 
might not Shillov take it into his head 
to make a double killing to-night— 
first Zungu, and then Georges Coutlass? 
After ail, the Greek's presence at the 
settlement had only been suffered because 
Shillov imagined he might know some- 
thing of the ivory, which he most 
certainly did not. And now that three 
of the Morgan party were in the tyrant's 
hands, the latter was quite liable to put 
an end to him. 

Well, it behoved Georges Coutlass to 
strike another bargain with the Morgan 

"Listen, Montgomery," the Greek be- 
gan, " I do not hold a grudge. No, 
Georges Coutlass is a man willing to 
let bygones be bygones. You are in 
bad feex, eh? So! I will get you cut 
of here, and to-night 3 7 ou will be free." 

"You've tricked us too many times, 
Coutlass," Fred broke in scornfully. 
"We want nothing to do with you." 

Coutlass fingered his silky moustache. 
"By the Seven Seas, you shall have 
something to do weeth me!" he declared 
emphatically. "I shall not permit you to 
rot in Shillov's gaol." 

He pronounced the last words with a 
fine flourish, but his apparent concern 
on. their behalf did not deceive Monty 
and Fred. They knew the man too 
well not to realise that he working 
for his own ends. 

" I am a prisoner, the same as you," 
the Greek went on. "but I have the 
freedom of the camp, and can move 
about and make plans. Therefore, my 
friends. T can be of value to you." 

Monty was thinking fast. Like Fred, 
he placed no faith in Coutlass. but never- 
theless the man seemed to be their only 
hone, and, whatever happened, they 
could not find themselves in a worse 

"What about Barbara?" he mur- 
mured. "Wf>'d have to get word to her, 
Coutlass. We're not leaving her in 
Shi'lov's power." 

"Ha. you begin to come round, eh?" 
the Greek said with satisfaction. "Well, 
set your mind at rest — I will take care 
of everything." 

A guard approached at the moment, 
Coutlass edged away, and then, with a 
casual air. he strolled in the direction 
of Shilov's bungalow. He contrived 
to pass unobserved to the back of the 
dwelling, nnd was soon close to the 
window of Barbara's room. 

He intended to attract her attention 
and have a talk with her, but, on peer- 
ing cautiously into the apartment, he 
saw that Shillov was standing beforo 
her, <>'>d the Greek ducked quickly out 
of sight. 

"You still think I know where the 
ivorv is hidden?" the pirl was sayincr. 

"I am sure you do," Shillov rejoined 
in a wheedling tone. "Now listen. Miss 
Morgan, I haven't got your brother, 
but if you'll tell me the secret of Tipoo 
Tibs buried treasure, I'll help you to 
find him." 

Barbara did not speak, and, after a 
moment's silence, Shillov took her hands 
and leered at her. 


Every Tuesday 

" You know, we could be partners — 
you and I, ! ' he told her. "It would pay 
you to keep in with me. I'll leave you 
:o think it over, my dear." 

He turned and walked out of the 
room, and Coutlass saw him crossing 
the compound a few seconds later. 
Again the Greek attempted to reveal 
Limself to Barbara, but before he could 
do so the girl received another visitor 
in her apartment — Belle Waldron this 

"Listen!" the woman said. "I heard 
every word that Shillov spoke to you, 
but you needn't think you're going to 
e any bargain with him. I'm his 
partner, and I'm not going to stand by 
and lot him throw me over for you. Is 
that clear?" 

Barbara looked at her haughtily. 

" You flatter Shillov," she replied. 
"If he were the last man in the world, 
aldn't have anything to do with 
him. " 

"You don't follow my meaning," 

snapped. "The ugly pig thinks 

I'm in lovo with him, but Tin not. 

i share in that ivory I want, and 

I thought he'd play straight by me; but 

now I know he won't. So I'm locking 


"Why are you telling me this?" 
Barbara demanded. 

" Because I want to give you a piece 
of advice," Belle Waldron rejoined, 
"and I want to come to terms with 

Barbara shook her head. 
"I don't trust you," she said. "You 
helped Shillov to trap us, and I'm not 
ready to listen to any more of your 
os !" 
"You've got to'." Belle mapped. 
"Listen ! If you value the lifo of your 
or and your friends, don't tell 
Shillov the secret of the ivory." 

" How many times must I tell you 
that I know nothing of the ivory?" 
Barbara cried. 
The older woman smiled. 

can't expect me to believe that," 


she observed. " Now, here's my pro- 
position. I'll help you to escape at 
the height of to-night's celebrations. 
My maid Azu is to guard you, but she'll 
act on my instructions, and will let you 
go. You'll have to find your own way 
to Lazuma's village, where your father 
is, and when it's safe to do so I'll come 
to you there. But remember — I expect 
you to let me in on a share in the 
ivory !" 

" What about Monty and Fred?" Bar- 
bara murmured. " I'm not going with- 
out them !" 

Belle pursed her lips. 

"That makes things more difficult," 
she said, "but I'll find a way. Is it a 

"Yes," Barbara agreed. "I'll vouA 
for my friends. If you carry out your 
part, we'll be willing to give you a share 
of any ivory we find." 

Coutlass was listening attentively, 
and, eager to have a hand in the deal, 
he sought out Belle as soon as she 
parted with Barbara. 

He joined the woman on the bungalow 
veranda, and, without divulging the 
fact that he had overheard her discus- 
sion with Barbara, he spoke to her 

"Belle, you aro the very one I am 
looking for!" he exclaimed. "Shillov 
means to double-cross the two of 
If we are to outwit him, we must join 
forces. " 

"Not so loud, you fool!" Belle told 
him fiercely. "Someone might hoar 
you. And what's this about joining 
forces? You've proved that you'd turn 
on me whenever it suited your purpose 
to do so!" 

"Turn on you?" the Greek protested. 
"I am your friend, Belle. I will help 

The woman eyed him shrewdly. 

"You're a friend to no one," she mut- 
tered, "but I could use you, and I'll 
take a ohance on you. To-night I'm 
going to see that Barbara Morgan gets 


out of the bungalow. You can arrange 
to set Oakes and Montgomery free." 

"It is as good as done," Coutlass 
declared, and moved off across the com- 

He chanced to draw near the cage 
in which Zungu was imprisoned. The 
ape-man had succeeded in disentangling 
part of the net from his body, and was 
hurling himself at the bars of his cage 
with a ferocity that made the whole 
structure tremble. Two or three of 
Shil'ov's white guards were striking at 
him with their muskets to drive him 

In the meantime the signal drum w.ts 
sending out a message through the 
bush, and soon troops of natives began 
to arrive at the settlement — bushinan 
allies of Shillov. all jubilant over 
Zungu's capture. By nightfall a large 
concord was gathered in the compound, 
and an uproarious celebration pro- 
'1. the blacks feasting and singing 
while the monster man of the jungle 
raged in his prison. 

Shillov dominated the festivities, and 
while the outlandish ceremony was in 
full swing Coutlass took the opportunity 
of making final arrangements with I'. 
Waldron. Then he stole round to 
gaol in which Monty and Fred hail 
lodged, and, under cover of the gloom; 
he crept up behind a sentry who was 
posted there. 

A sudden spring, and Coutlass was 
upon the man. Down came his fi 

Hashing blow that took the sentry 
behind uho ear, and. with a faint 
that was drowned by the prc\ ailing 
tumult in the compound, lie sagged :o 
his knees. 

The Greek struck him again, and the 
guard fell forward on his face. With 
swift-tnovinfr hands, Coutlass dot.. 
a bunch of keys from tlie fellow's belt, 
and then, showing his teeth in a grin, 
he drew close to the door of the 
from which Fred and Monty 
watohing him intently. 

" You see, I have the freedom of < 

Two or three of Shillov 's 
white guards were 
striking at Zungu with 
their muskets to drive 
him back. 

January 21st, 1033, 


camp," said Coutlass, dangling the keys 
before their eyes. "I com' to save you, 
and to take you to Mecs Morgan." 

"All right." Monty rejoined im- 
patiently. "Open up this door." 

The Greek smiled craftily. 

"Ah, wait!" he said, in suave tones. 
"Before I let you out, you must promise 
to take me on the trail of Tipoo Tib's 
ivory, and we must come to terms." 

Monty realised the danger of delay — 
realised that the greedy haggling of the 
Greek anight well wreck all hopes of 
freedom. With a sudden lunge, ha 
thrust his hands through the bars and 
gripped Coutlass by the wrists. 

"Quick, Fred!" lie panted. "Get 
those keys !" 

Coutlass struggled angrily, but Monty 
held him as if in a vice while Fred 
reached forward and tore the keys out 
of the man's grasp. 

"Jackals!" the Greek snarled. "Let 
go, Montgomery ! Let go, I say!" 

Fred was fumbling with the keys, 
and. finding the right one, he unfastened 
padlock and chains. Only then did 
Monty release Coutlass, and, hurrying 
out of the prison with Fred at his heels, 
he confronted the enraged Greek. 

"Where's Miss Morgan?" he rapped 
out. "Come on!" You've burned your 
boats, and you're in with us now ! 
You've got to stick with us, or take the 
consequences from Shillov. " 

"Suppose I give the alarm and have 
you recaptured?" Coutlass said harshly, 
stepping back a pace as he spoke. 

"Go ahead," Fred interposed. "All 
the thanks you'll get from Shillov is a 
whipping — or maybe something worse — ■ 
for trying to set us free in the first 

There was sound reason in those 
words, and the Greek cooled down at 

"All right." he muttered. "I take 
you to Mees Morgan. Come ! " 

They began to make their way round 
the edge of the compound, and presently 
they reached the back of the bungalow, 
where they discerned a solitary figure 
standing in the shadows. It was tho 
figure of Barbara, and she hurried for- 
ward to greet them thankfully. 

"Are you all right, Barbara?" Monty 

"Yes," the girl answered. "Belle 
Waldron's just left me, with her maid 
Azu. I bargained with her for our 
freedom. If we get back to Lazuma's 
village, she'll join us there as soon as 
sh.3 can, and we're to let her have a 
6hare in any ivory we find." 

"Listen," exclaimed Coutlass, "if any 
bargain ' is made in ivory, I am in- 
cluded ! Remember that " 

"Be quiet, you fool!" Monty broke 
in. "We'd better get out of here before 
our escape is discovered." 

Accompanied by Barbara, they started 
to retrace their steps, passing the prison 
from which Monty and Fred had 
emerged a few minutes previously, then 
hastening on to a side gate near by. 
The man whom Coutlass had felled had 
been guarding this as well as the cage, 
and consequently they were able to slip 
out of tho settlement without any 

They took to (heir heels, crossing the 
clearing ar.d plunging into the jungle. 
On they sped, and had travelled through 
the bush for more than a quarter of a 
mile when there was a movement 
ahead of th'<jm. 

The fugitives stopped. The figures of 
two white r.ion had taken shape in the 
gloom. They were armed and were 
pointing Winchester rifles at them. 
With a shook, Monty and his friends 

January 21st, 1933. 


realised that they had had the bad luck 
to fall in with a couple of Shillov's hire- 
lings, posted at a distance from the 
oamp to give warning of any surprise 
rescue attempt on the part of Barbara's 
father and the rest of the Morgan 

"One false move and it's your last!" 
The grim threat held the fugitives in 
check, for they were unarmed — and it 
looked as if they were doomed to go 
back into captivity. 

"Put your hands in the air and turn 
round," one of (he g.uards ordered 

"Now march!" came the gruff com- 
mand. "You know which way — 
Shillov's encampment 1" 

The Camp in Confusion. 

SEATED in a basket-chair on the 
veranda of his bungalow, Boris 
Shillov watched the festivities in 
the compound for a considerable time, 
and then called to Krotsky, who was 
standing close by. 

"I'm ready for (he main attraction, 
comrade," he told his lieutenant. 
" Bring Zungu out of his cage, thrash 
him with the whip as he lies in the 
net, then put a volley of bullets through 
his squirming body." 

Krotsky grinned appreciatively, and, 
beckoning to a group of Shillov's black 
servants, he led them in the direction of 
Zungu's prison. 

The giant ape-man was still howling 
with fury, end, as Krotsky drew nearer 
to the cage that held him, he noticed 
him prowling towards the back of the 
prison. Krotsky hesitated at the spec- 
tacle, and, peering forward, realised all 
at once that Zungu had at last dis- 
engaged himself from the net. 

The thought passed through Krotsky's 
mind that all idea of the whipping 
would have to be abandoned, unless 
another net could be thrown over 
Zungu. And this reflection had scarcely 
occurred to him, when the ape-man 
uttered a deafening bellow and hurled 
himself bodily at the door of the prison. 

All his bulk and strength were in the 
effort, and there was no net to hamper 
hirn now. With battering-ram force he 
crashed into the bars, and they 
splintered to that mighty impact like 

Krotsky's companions scattered with 
loud shrieks. Shillov's lieutenant, trans- 
fixed for the moment, stood staring as 
Zungu tore the shattered bars apart 
and bounded forth into the compound 
with a yell of execration and triumph. 

Krotsky recovered his wits and fled. 
By that time the festive blacks, as well 
as the population of Shillov's settlement, 
were running in terror. But Zungu 
leapt amongst them, and one stalwart 
bushman chief was lifted on high as if 
he had been a child. 

Zungu dashed him senseless to the 
ground. Two more fell under the flail- 
strokes of the ape-man's great hands. 
One of Shillov's white guards was swept 
olf his feet, his neck broken at a twist, 
his lifeless body pitched into a fire 
where the carcase of an antelope had 
been roasting. 

Zungu was running on to the main 
gateway while he created the havoc, 
and Shillov, the only man who retained 
any presence of mind, was unable to 
tako a shot at him for the terrified 
masses which surged about the com- 

Shillov stormed and cursed as he had 
a last, glimpse of the ape-man heading 
for the jungle. But the ruler of the 
settlement had fresh disaster to face, 
for, while he voiced his chagrin in a 

Every Tuesday 

string of angry oaths, Krotsky came 
hurrying to his side. 

"Shillov," the man gasped, "the 
prisoners have escaped I" 

"What's that you said?" Shillov 

"The prisoners havo escaped." 
Krotsky repeated. "The guard lies 
stunned, and the side-gate is wide open. 
Montgomery and Oakes have got 
away !" 

Shillov's eyes were blazing. 

"Don't stand there babbling like a 
fool!" he snarled. "Get all your men 
together and put them on the trail. 
We'll show Oakes and Montgomery that 
all Africa isn't big enough to hide them 
from me ! And listen, if you should run 
across Zungu again, riddle him with 
bullets until he lies dead I" 

Zungu at that moment was taking to 
tho trees, and, up among the boughs, 
he travelled twice as rapidly as a fleet- 
footed man could have done on terra 
firnia. Thus did he put distance be- 
tween himself and the scene of his brief 
oaptivity, but he was still well within 
earshot of the encampment when he de- 
tected movements ahead of him in tho 

He paused in the fork of a lofty tree, 
and, staring downward, saw figures 
approaching from the heart of the 
jungle. They were marching along a 
narrow track, and, first and foremost, 
Zungu recognised the girl whose hair 
was golden as the sun. 

The party below were Monty, Fred, 
Coutlass and Barbara, tramping back 
in the direction of Shillov's settlement 
under escort of Shillov's two guards. 
Zungu watched them, and waited until 
they were immediately beneath him, and 
then with an infuriated roar he threw 
himself towards the ground. 

Half a dozen faces were uplifted, and 
none displayed alarm more acutely than 
those of Shillov's two hirelings. With 
startled cries they tried to bring up 
their rifles, but ere they could fire a 
shot the ape-man was upon them. 

He tore the Winchesters from their 
grasp and hurled them into the thickets. 
The terrified wretches turned to run, 
but were seized in tho grip of Zungu's 
mighty hands, and, clutching them by 
the neck, he beat their skulls together 
in a frenzy of rage. 

Monty and his friends had scattered, 
and Coutlass lost no time in striking 
away through the bush. The Greek had 
disappeared from view when Zungu, 
suddenly cocking his head on one side, 
dropped the victims of his wrath and 
made off, and it took Barbara and her 
remaining companions only a few 
seconds to learn why. A half-circle of 
men, spread out omong the thickets, 
were running from that quarter in 
which Shillov's camp lay, and Krotsky 
was at the head of them. 

"Run, Barbara!" Monty jerked. 
"Come on, Fred !" 

They sped forward, and, by tacit 
understanding, both youngsters kept the 
girl in front of them, so that she might 
make good her escape even if they were 
overtaken. It was exactly what hap- 
pened, for, with a shout, Krotsky 
ordered the flanks of his search-party to 
close in, and the enveloping movement 
brought the men on the right and left 
wings of the cordon to the fugitives' 
verj heels. 

"Keep going, Barbara I" Monty 
yelled, and then he and Fred stopped 
to engage tho pursuers, with the object 
of holding them at bay while the girl 
raced on. 

They had a couple of antagonists to 

Every Tuesday 

tockle there and then, and they made 
short of them with their fists. But 
others came up at the double, and soon 
the two youngsters were in the throes of 
a fierce melee. 

Krotsky end the main body arrived on 
the scene, and Fred and Monty were 
overpowered by sheer weight of num- 
bers. But by that time Barbara had 
disappeared, and, content with the 
capture of the two men, Krotsky gave 
instructions to return to the settlement. 
They were soon in the compound 
again, and Shillov emerged from his 
bungalow as they appeared. He scowled 
at the prisoners and then turned 
towards Krotsky. 

"Where's the girl?" lie demanded. 
"And that rat Coutlass?" 

"Why, the girl got away," Krotsky 
answered, "and — and we didn't see the 

Belle Waldron had appeared on the 
veranda, and she tried to persuade 
Shillov that there was no need to con- 
cern himself with Barbara since Monty 
and Fred were again in his power. But 
he was in no mood to listen to her. 

" We can make Oakes and Montgomery 
talk through the Morgan girl," he 
snarled, "or vice versa. That girl was 
our best bet. These two meddlers 
wouldn't want any harm to come to her. 
and she wouldn't want any harm to come 
to thorn." 

"Well, you can send a messenger to 
Lazuma's village and warn Morgan and 
his daughter that Montgomery and 
Oakes will die if the secret of the ivory 
isn't divulged," Belle argued. Til take 

the message myself if you like " 

" No, you won't," Shrllov cut in. "I'm 
handling this my own way. Krotsky, 
BUf OUT best trackers on the trail, and 
bring in that girl. And some of you 
take Oakes and Montgomery back to 

Fred and Monty were dragged away, 

and Shillov followed them to the prison 

had formerly occupied. There he 

•■ (1 them to be tied by the wrists to 

a cro-s-bar in such a manner that, they 

could barely touch ground with their 

" We'll leave you hanging for a spell," 
Shillov said, chuckling hoarsely. "It 
will be bad enough (luring tho night. 
When the full heat of the sun strikes 

it will be a thoutand times ,-, 
I it may prove to be a means of 


Searching the Jungle. 

IN the village of Lazuma, the chieftain 
who had befriended the Morgan 
party, Barbara's father had lain 
sick with a fever for many hours. But, 
after a night of sleep, he awoke with 
the dawn and crawled from his bed. 

He had been badly shaken by his bout 
of illness, but felt strong enough to make 
his way from the hut that he had occu- 
pied, and he stumbled towards the 
dwelling that had been placed at 
Barbara's disposal. 

When he found her missing, he ex- 
perienced a considerable amount of 
anxiety, and, suddenly spying Kazi- 
moto, he hurried over to the faithful 

"Where's my daughter?" he de- 

Kazimoto proceeded to explain. While 
he spoke, Morgan noticed the harassed 
look on his face. 

" Waldron woman, she come to village 
while you lie sick," Kazimoto Telated. 
" She say your son at Shillov settlement. 
She promise to help Bwana Alontgomery 
to rescue him. Ho and Bwana Oakes 
leave with her, and Missy Barbara go, 

"How long ago was this?" Morgan 

"Maybe twelve hours," Kazimoto 
answered. "They should have returned 
by now. Me 'fraid of trap. Waldron 
woman is bad friend." 

Morgan bit his lip. 

"You're right, Kazimoto," he 
declared. "Get our safari together. 
Ask Lazuma if he'll lend us some of 
his warriors. We're going to Shillov's 
And we'll fight it out if neces- 

The interpreter went off, and shortly 
afterwards the safari, reinforced by a 
score of Lazuma's tribesmen, was ready 
to move out. 

Morgan put himself at the head of 

olumn with Kazimoto, and a start 

n u made, the party marching along the 

jungle tracks that led in the direction of 

tho enemy encampment. 

The Morgan safari had been on the 
march for about fifteen minutes . 
the distant note of a drum reached their 
and Barbara's father looked at 
Kazimoto quickly. 

"Jungle telegraph," he mutt 

"What does it jay, Kazimoto ? What 
does the drum say? Is it news of my 
daughter ?" 


The interpreter was listening attcn-; 
tivcly, and, after a minute or two, ho 
shook his head. 

"No, Bwana," he rejoined. "Yester- 
day I hear this drum. It say that 
Shillov capture Zungu. To-day it sayj 
that Zungu escaped last night." 

The safari moved on, but had pro- 
ceeded no more than another hundred, 
yards when a movement was detected in 1 
a thicket some little way ahead, and 
next moment the bedraggled figure of 
a white man appeared. 

Morgan brought up his rifle smartly, 
fearing an ambush, and his finger curled 
about the trigger as he recognised 
Coutlass. But, breathless and rather 
dishevelled, the Greek emerged from 
the thicket alone, and as he ran forward 
he called out loudly : 

" Meeeter Morgan, don't shoot ! Don't 
shoot — I am a friend — your friend!" 

He reached Barbara's father, andj 
stopped before him, gasping. Morgan i 
looked at him with contempt and sus-' 
picion, and then spoke in a dry tone. 

"My friend, eh?" he scoffed. "You 
use that phrase too liberally, Coutlass. 
It means nothing, coming from a man 
like you. We kicked you out of our 
camp, and told you to stay out— and I 
want no truck with you." 

"You do not understand," Coutlass 

tulatcd. "You cannot treat me 

I tell you I am your friend 

—in spite of our leetle misunderstand- 
ing. I have been seeking the trai 
Lazuma's village in the hopes of finding 
i' re." 

"What do you want?'' Morgan de- 
manded gruffly. 

"I want to tell you what happ< 
at Shd'ov's camp," the Greek rejoined, 
and with that Barbara's father ga 
violent start. 

" You know something of my 
daughter?" he jerked, gras ping Cout- 
lass by the shoulder. "Where is she, 
man? What have they done to hi 

llov took her prisoner, with Mont- 
iv and Oakes," the Greek - I 
plained swiftly. "I, Georges Coutlass, 

in free — I, the good friend of 
Morgan party. I had to fight my waj 
through Shillov's men to rescue them 

"t'nt out the boasting," Morgan inter- 
rupted impatiently. "Tell us what 

'We escaped," the Greek announced', 
"but Shillov sent Krotsky and many 

" You know some- 
thing of my daugh- 
ter ? " he jerked, 
grasping Coutlass by 
the shoulder. 

January 21st, 1933, 


men after us. They overtook us. I 
told them to save themselves while I 
held the foe at bay " 

Once again his braggart imagination 
was running away with him, and he 
was enlarging on the facts and painting 
himself in the light of a hero. 

"I fought as never before," Coutlass 
proceeded, "but at last I was struck 
down. I was left for dead, but crawled 
into the bush, and from cover I saw 
Krotsky's men bring back Montgomery 
and Oakcs as prisoners." 

"And my daughter?" Morgan panted. 
"Speak, Coutlass!" 

"My courage was not in vain," the 
Greek rejoined with a flourish. "The 
girl made good her escape, but I lost 
track of her, and where she is now I 
cannot say." 

Morgan paled. 

"There's no telling what might have 
happened to her," he groaned. "If 
she's still alive 6he must be hopelessly 
lost, for she has no knowledge of the 
jungle trails." 

■ He turned to Kazimoto all at once 
and grasped him by the arm. 

"We've got to find her," he said to 
the interpreter. "We'll split forces, and 
you can head one party while Coutlass 
and I take the other. If you should 
locate my daughter, Kazimoto, send a 
runner to me at once." 

"It shall be done, bwana," Kazimoto 
answered, and at once began to pass on 
Morgan's instructions to the natives. 

Prey of the Hungry. 

THE rising sun discovered Monty 
and Fred still tied to the cross-bar 
in their gaol at Shillov's camp. 
They were suffering beyond description, 
for their unnatural position had kept 
them awake in the dark hours, and, 
almost overcome by exhaustion and 
fatigue, they were no longer able to 
poise themselves on their toes. 

The cords that bound their wrists to 
the bar above their heads were cutting 
into their flesh cruelly. The blood 
seemed to have been drained from their 
arms, leaving them num'b and dead, and 
their bodies were dead weights that 
tortured tho sockets. 

"That rat Shillov!" Monty ground 
out. "I wonder how long he's going 
to keep us tied like this." 

"I can't stand it much longer," Fred 
moaned. "I — I guess I'm pretty near 
breaking-point " 

Monty interrupted him. 

"Here he comes," he said tersely. 
"Keep a stiff upper lip, Fred. We 
won't give him the satisfaction of crow- 
ing over our misery, anyway!" 

Shillov had come out of his bungalow, 
and, stretching himself comfortably in 
the first cool breath of early morning, 
he looked about hirn with satisfaction. 
Then, as he clapped eyes on the 
prisoners in their cage, he grinned 
evilly and stepped down from the 
veranda, making his way across the 
compound till he reached the bars of 
tin' gaol. 

"A fine morning, friends," he greeted 
them mockingly, "and I'm glad to see 
that you're early risers." 

He laughed uproariously at his own 
taunting jest, and then went on speak- 

"It's a little fresh, don't you think?" 
he observed. "But as the day wears 
o;i it will get warmer — hotter— and still 
hotter. About noon, you two should 
be sizzling in your own skins. Come 
now," he added in a sterner tone, 
"that's an ugly prospect, and one you 
can avoid. Divulge the secret of the 
January 21st, 1933. 


I ivory, and, when it's in my hands, I'll 
let you go free." 

"We've told you we don't know where 
the ivory is!" Monty protested. 

"That's a lie!" Shillov retorted 
viciously. "Is it your final answer?" 

Fred glared at him. "Cut me loose," 
he flashed, " and I'll give you an 
answer that you will carry to your 

Shillov scowled at him, and his 
narrow eyes were filled with malice. 

"I hadn't expected cither of you to 
have much kick in you by this time," 
lie said, "but it seems you're out of the 
common run. Well, I have other 
methods that might break even your 
spirits, and, if the necessity occurs, we'll 
have to resort to them." 

He leaned forward and thrust his face 
to the very bars. 

"But I advise you not to make me 
employ those methods," he went on 
ominously. "You'll find them dis- 
tinctly unpleasant, my friends." 

"Anything you do won't make us 
tell you what you want to know," 
Monty declared. " We don't know 
where the ivory is ourselves, and what's 
more — we don't much care. I repeat, 
Shillov, that we're searching for Jack 
Morgan, and not for treasure." 

"That's something I don't choose to 
believe," was the impatient retort. 

"Shillov, you'd better cut us loose," 
Fred cried. " Kirk Montgomery and 1 
have influential friends, and so have 
the Morgans. If anything happens to 
us, and word ever goes back to civilisa- 
tion that you had a hand in it, you'll 
pay dearly. Get that into your black- 
guardly head, will you ? You'll pay 
dearly, I tell you." 

"I answer for my actions to no man," 
Shillov scoffed. 

"You'll answer to the British Govern- 
ment, though," Fred challenged. 
" They'll demand leave of the Belgian 
authorities to send a punitive expedition 
into this jungle and wipe you off the 
face of the earth." 
Shillov 6hook his head. 
" We are in a tract of country that 
knows no government but mine," he 
announced. "I am the supreme power 
here, and there will come a day when 
the world will recognise me as king of 
vast domains. Even now, the prospect 
of punitive expeditions cannot alarm 

"You over-estimate yourself," Monty 
put in scornfully. "Whatever you may 
be one day, you're in no position to 
withstand the attack of disciplined white 

"I do not over-estimate the amount 
of shelter offered by the African bush," 
Shillov rejoined. "If troops came, 
signal drums would warn me of their 
approach. When they reached here, the 
settlement would be empty, and I wouid 
bo far out of their grasp. But come, 
I'll give you a last chance to talk, and 
to reveal the secret of the ivory." 

"Oh, let's hear no more of this 
ivory!" snapped Fred. 

Shillov gave a crafty smile, and stood 
eyeing his captives for a moment. Then 
he spoke again. 

"It pleases you to be defiant," he 
observed, "but don't forget that I have 
men out searching for the Morgan girl. 
Very likely they'll soon be back with 
her, and then we'll see if we can find 
another cure for your stubbornness. 
Meanwhile, you can stand there and 

"Barbara Morgan is at Lazuma's 

Every Tuesday 

village by now," Monty declared, "and- 
safely out of your clutches, Shillov." 

He uttered the words without real, 
conviction, for he was filled with dread 
concerning the girl's welfare. Nor 
were his fears ill-founded, for at that 
moment she was blindly roaming the 
jungle in the forlorn hope of finding 
her way to the Morgan party's quarters. 

All through the night Barbara had 
tramped, terrified by the animal voice3 
of the bush, starting at every sound that 
might mean Shillov's men were on her 
trail, and mingling with the alarm that 
she experienced on her own account 
was the horror of the thought that Fred 
and Monty might be dead by now. 

With the dawn there was a twittering 
of birds in the trees about her. It was 
a heartening 6ound to Barbara, but it 
was followed by one that sent a thrill 
of terror through her — the deep-toned 
roar of a lion at no great distance. 

She was footsore and weary, but she 
broke into a run to escape from the 
immediate vicinity as quickly as pos- 
sible, and, as she came upon a narrow 
animal-track, she turned off along it. 

She did not know that she was headed 
straight for danger, and that a prowling 
leopard, ravenous with hunger, was 
coming along that same path from the 
opposite direction. 

Barbara sped on, blindly ignorant ot 
the impending encounter with the beast 
of prey. Presently her steps began to 
flag, and soon she was stumbling un- 
certainly. At last, utterly exhausted, 
she fell to the ground, and when she 
tried to rise she lacked the strength to 
reach her feet. 

She sank down again in a stupor, and 
lay with her face close to the barren 
earth of the jungle trail. A tiny 
monkey moved along one of the lower 
branches of a tree near by, and peered 
at her curiously, and its comical, beady 
little eyes were still fixed on her when 
a movement not far away diverted its 

The monkey saw a sleek but powerful 
form pad into view round a bend in the 
track. It was the dappled form of the 
leopard, and, with a frightened chatter- 
ing, the 6mall creature in the tree 
hastened out of sight amid the foliage. 

The leopard came on, detected the 
huddled figure of the girl on the path- 
way, and, with twitching nostrils, 
slackened its pace and approached 
cautiously. When it was within a few 
paces the brute stopped and glared at 

Barbara remained quite still for fully 
a minute, and then she began to show 
signs of life. The leopard instantly 
bared its fangs, and uttered a low snarl, 
gathering itself as it did so for a spring. 
The sound penetrated the girl's con- 
sciousness, but she was too dazed for 
the time being to realise what it meant. 
Slowly she raised herself into a sitting 
posture, and then, opening her eyes, she 
drew her hand across her forehead and 
looked round hazily. 

The leopard snarled again, more 
loudly and more ferociously. Barbara 
gave a violent start, and turned her 
glance towards it, and as she discerwd 
the brute within striking distance of her 
the blood seemed to freeze in her veins. 
She uttered a piercing shriek, and 
with that the leopard hurtled forward 
through mid-air, pouncing on her 

(To be concluded next week. By per- 
mission of Universal Pictures, Ltd., 
starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jun., 
and Cecelia Parker.) 

Every Tuesday 




(Continued from page 16.) 


♦ ♦ ♦ -*-^c 

fall, though his head coming in contact 
■with the side of the schooner had robbed 
him of his senses. Being tough, it was 
only a matter of minutes, and with re- 
turning strength he cautiously pushed 
away the pieces of wood and canvas 
under which he was buried. 

It was not a pleasant sight that met 
his eyes. The smashed wreck of the 
schooner and lying so still was the figure 
of Deputy Gordon. 

Kent Rogers knelt beside the figure, 
and to his surprise the heart was still 
beating. The dying man opened his 
eyes and recognised the guide. 

"Collins 6hould have done as you said, 
Kent," came the faint words. "Wo 
sure rode into a trap." 

"I'll get you some water," cried Kent. 
"You'll soon be fit again." 

"Not in this world." A brave smile. 
"This scalp wound on my head is 
nothing. My ribs feel all busted in, an' 
there's lead in my body. No, Kent, 
this is time to say good-bye. I ain't 
grumbliri', pard. I've had a good spell. 

I " His eyes closed for a moment. 

"I fooled 'em, Kent." 

"Fooled whom, Gordon?" 

"Gallagher and his rabble." Weakly 

Gordon's right arm moved towards his 

blood-stained shirt. "I've got the gold 

—in there. Take it, Kent, an' may all 

the luck " .The whole figure 

stiffened and then sagged heavily in the 
arms of Kent Rogers. Gordon was 

Kent Rogers put his hand inside the 
shirt and found a leather money-sack. 
This must be taken back to Red Gulch. 
Collins had decided to find out what 
had happened to the schooners. II. 
discovered three, and then looking down 
into the old stream bed saw Kent 
Rogers bending over Deputy Gordon, 
ilthily, Collins made his way towards 

As Kent Rogers removed the gold so 
did Collins draw his gun. 

"Stick 'em up!" he rasped, "As I 
always thought. This time I've caught 
you in the act. " 

Kent Rogers turned and faced his 

"I know nothing about this gold," ho 
protested. " I warned you, ami you rode 
into the trap. I held off Gallagher as 
long as I could and then rode aft< u 
train. I got, on to Gordon's schooner, 
and when it, crashed I was knocked out. 
Only a few moments ago I reco 

found tho deputy still living; he 

told tnc about the gold being hidden in 


"A pretty story," sneered Collins. 

You and Jerry Sutton 

are in league with Gallagher. A line 

bluff riding up when it was too late to 

do a thing so you could make out you 

were innocent. You're quick, Rogers, 

and en thought of a tale for 

why you were found robbing a dying 

man. 5Tou and Jerry Sutton were ■ 

in with Gallagher's gang or else you 

planned a hold-up of your own, and to 

away over the Border with your 


lying dog I" Kent's fists were 
clenched. "Von haven't a decent 

thought in y.iur head. Von would 


. .1 dozen good men to their death 
If you'd stopped rou might have driven 
off Gallagher's buni 

"Tell all that to the judge and the 
townsfolk whi , you," Collins 


laughed contemptuously. "You'll be 
swinging at the end of a rope by morn- 
ing. Keep your place, Rogers, or I'll 
drill you." 

'.'But you can't frame me for this?" 
"Can't I!" Collins sneered. "I never 
have liked you and I used to hate your 
father. As there's no one about I don't 
see why I shouldn't tell you. I don't 
care whether you robbed the mail or not, 
but my verdict is guilty, because I've 
always wanted to see you dangling at a 
rope'6 end. Moe Ginsberg shall find you 
a new one. Besides, if we hang you it'll 
be an example to other desperadoes." 

"You'll hang me to cover your own 
folly." Kent Rogers faced his enemy 
fearlessly. "I don't suppose there's a 
soul living to prove that I warned you. 
All you'll say is that you saw me rob- 
bing Deputy Gordon." 

"Maybe!" Collins moved the gun. 
"Keep those hands high and walk up 
that bluff." 

A great white horse appeared. Light- 
ning had torn on after the runaways, but 
had decided to go for his master. Col- 
lins rode him and made Rogers walk 
all the long way back to Red Gidch. 

What a tale Coilins told when the 
chief men of the town had gathered in 
the court-room, with Judge McSwet 
in the chair. His vindictive and bitter 
tongue yelled out charges againtt the 

Tempers are quickly roused out in the 
West. Kent Rogers was a lad whom 
they had known and trusted, and yet 
now the blood lust was roused in a few 
moments, and they were shouting that 
Rogers be lynched. 

Moe Ginsberg did make a protest and 
speak of seeing Rogers ride into Red 
Gulch, but this evidence Collins shouted 
down. The red, bestial face was aglow 
with fiendish triumph as .1 
Mi-Swecney gave the order that Kent 
Rogers be hung within tho hour. 

Scarce had they dragged Kent away 
before a white-faced girl flung herself 
into Judge . M< Sweeney's office. The 
old judge was slumped in his chair. 

"I've just seen men dragging Kent 
Rogers to the gaol," she panted out. 
"Judge, he's innocent of whatever he's 
accused. They tell me that tho wagon 
train was betrayed into the hands of 
Buck Gallagher by Kent Rogers. I can 
prove that's a lie." 

"A lie!" The judge was on his feet. 
"What is this proof, Lupita. Speak 
quickly, girl!" 

"If anybody betrayed the train il 
Jerry Sutton,'' stormed the girl. "Kent 
got Jerry the job because he wanted 
to get his buddy out of Red Gulch and 
away to Arizona — away from Buck 
Gallagher. Biuk threatened Jerry and 
I him to consent to guiding the 
train through tho upper trail. Ken I 

ieard, and he came to my 
when Jerry was saying good-bye. I 
was a fight and Jerry was knocked 
down, and Kent bound his legs and 
•,k him away." 
"Where to?" 

"I couldn't say." Lupita could tell 
a lie so cosily, but there was a ring in 
her voice that told the judge that 
parts of this amazing tale must be tttie. 
"But he told me what he planned to 
do. He was going to ride to Red Gulch 
and take the train himself — through the 
lower canyon — and when safe would re 
turn for his buddy. That's the truth, 

"Why didn't Kent tell us this, 
that he had had a warning about Gal- 
lagher and rode "'" Red Gulch to try 
and stop the train, Collins wouldn't, wait 

im Coll • plained that bv 

ing that l "I' hidden 

until a as well on its way. A 


bluff to make him seem innocent. He 
didn't say a word about Sutton." 

"Can't you see why?" Her eyes 
flashed. "Because Kent Rogers is a 
man. That's more than I can say for 
some of the people in Red Gulch. Hasn't 
he fought for years to keep Jerry Sut- 
ton on the straight path, away from 
the saloon, Buck Gallagher, and people 
like myself?" She laughed. "I ought 
to hate Kent Rogers, but I think he's 
the finest man I've ever met. And now 
you want to hang him. He didn't talk 
about Sutton because it was the only 
way of saving him. Why should he 
squeal .to save his own life — he'd rather 
hang first." 

"You're right, girl." Judge 
McSweeney grabbed up his stetson. 
"Kent's innocent, and we've got to stop 
the hanging." 

The rope was round Kent's neck when 
a hot and dusty judge and a white-faced 
Lupita rushed up to the gaol. 

"Take that rope down. The hanging's 
off!" bellowed the judge. "You've got 
the wrong man." 

"You can't do this," stormed Collins. 

"Take that rope from off Kent 
Rogers." The judge was angry. "If 
that rope isn't off his neck by the time 
I finish talking I'll clap you, Collins, and 
most of the rest of you, in gaol. I 
never did like this hanging, because I've 
known Kent for a good spell. I couldn't 
believe a straight, honest, square-shooter 
would turn crook and Lupita has 
proved I'm right. Rogers overheard 
Gallagher plotting with Jerry Sutton — 
Rogers knocked out his pal and tied 
him up some place — he rode like the 
wind into Rod Gulch to warn the train." 
He looked at Collins. "You reckoned 
Rogers had skulked in hiding. Yon 
talk a bit too fast at times, Collins. If 
you hadn't acted so hasty in riding off 
without a guide we shouldn't luxe lost 
some good citizens. The same happened 
when ho warned you at Blind (Jiilch — 
it was you that was blind." 

The rope had been removed from Kent 
Runts' neck. 

"So you don't get your wish after 

all." Kent Rogers faced <'•"■ baffled 

is. "No man calls me a liar twice, 

Collins. Try any more funny stuff and 

we'll have a showdown." 

"You two ought to he friend.-." Judge 

McSweeney cried in his heartiest 

He had noticed the mow ling looks 
now turned on Collins. 

"As easy ae a crocodile with a make." 
Cent Rogers turned his buck. "Now 
that I am free 1 want my guns." 

"You'll help us find Jerry Sutton?" 

Collins had recovered some of bis 
courage, because he saw that Rogers 
was going to make no accusation 
against him. 

"You've meddled enough, Collins," 
Kent answered. "I take no orders from 

you. Judge, 1 v.aut my guns." 

"Sine, Kent." The judge look his 

arm. 're in my ofliee. You 

won't break your oath to the 

vigilantes '.'" 

"No." Cent Rogers smiled as he 

walked off with the judge. "But 111 

not help yon to find Jerry Sutton- that 

will be my business." 

The Search for Jerry Sutton. 

DIRECTLY Kent was out of earshot, 
('ollins began to shout and bluster. 
Hadn't he always said thai either 
Rogers or Sutton was guilty? He had 
wrong about Rogers, but all the 
evidence had *>•-'■!» so strong. How was 
he to know tli iding 

hi.s friend? 

" Who is 1 1 i resppnsiblaf 

shouted Collins. "Who betrayed us I 

January 2ist, l!)".?. 


Why, Jerry Sutton. Let's go get him." 

Some wanted to argue, but a few hot- 
heads like Collins were thirsty for 
vengeance. As long as someone was 
killed or hung they would feel that the 
dead citizens had been avenged. 

" Well, you go find Jerry Sutton for 
yourself," cried one old campaigner. 
"An' if you do get him, I'll see that he 
gete a fairer trial than Rogers had. I 
reckon, Collins, you're a mighty lucky 

•Why, old-timer?" 

"If I had been Rogers I'd have gone 
a gunnin' for you," was the answer. 
" Maybe Jerry Sutton did betray us, and 
the blame for. this killin' can be put on 
him, but some folks might think that 
one of their citizens hadn't played too 
good a part. You go get Jerry Sutton, 
an' you try an' get him hung. Maybe 
lie deserves it, but I shan't hesitate to 
tell the court what I thinks about a 
man who acts hasty an' is twice warned. 
That's all I've got to say." 

The old-timer took away most of the 
men with him, but the sheriff had his 

"Sutton must be found, Collins," he 
stated. "I'll go with you an' some of 
your friends. I'm comin' with you, 
Collins, to see justice done. Let's get 

" We'll try Sutton's shack," Collins 
cried. "I'll not rest till I've cleared 
Red Gulch of these villains." 

Kent Rogers and Lupita rode out of 
Red Gulch. Once more the youngster 
had his guns. 

"Guess I owe my life to you, Lupita." 
He gazed at her with a new interest. 
"Why did you do it?" 

"Because you are a man." Her teeth 
flashed in a dazzling smile. " You are 
like the Spaniards who came to America 
hundreds of years ago and fought many 
battles. You are brave, and you would 
give your life for your friend or your 
country. That is one good reason, and 
the other is that I like you verra much. 
I " 

"Lupita," Kent 6poke hastily, "I 
thank you, and I'm going to apologise. 
I've never had much time for girls, and 
I don't intend to have much time until 
I've made a name for myself, have a 
ranch, money, and respect to offer to 
them. But of all those I have met 
you're the best." 

"I think I understand." Tears shone 
in the dark eyes. "And so you will 
ride away?" 

"Yes, and take Jerry with me." Kent 
started. "By gar, I've been forgetting 
all about Jerry. Suppose that snake 
Collins or the sheriff look for him, they 
will " 

"I did not tell the judge where you 
lake Jerry." Lupita smiled through her 
tears. "I say you take him away." 

" Then they'll either search my shack 
or Jerry's," he decided. "Come on, 
Lupita, we've got to move. Jerry and 
I must hit the trail this very day." 

A horse was hitched outside Lupita's 

"Buck Gallagher." Lupita clutched 
his arm. "I know his horse anywhere. 
He come here to kill Jerry." 

The Death of Buck Gallagher. 

KENT ROGERS motioned to Lupita 
not to make a sound. He slid 
from the saddle, but stayed the 
girl when she made to dismount. 

"Take my horse and your own round 
to the back of your shack," he ordered. 
" Otherwise Gallagher may see you from 
(he window. Go with great caution in 
case others of the gang are there." 

Buck Gallagher had decided that as 
Jerry Sutton had not turned Up there 
was only one place where he could be — 
January 21st, 1933. 


the shack of Lupita. He rode there and 
approached the shack with caution. 

The place was deserted, or so it 
seemed at first. Muffled sounds from a 
cupboard made him swing round his 
shot-gun. Gallagher went closer and 

"Lupita! Lupita!" came the faint 

Buck Gallagher swung open the door 
and stared at the bound and gagged 
figure of Jerry Sutton. Kent had done 
his work well, because Jerry, for all his 
striving, had not been able to get free, 
though he had managed to gnaw away 
part of the gag. 

The leader of the gang surveyed the 

"So this is where you have been." 
Gallagher stepped forward and loosened 
the gag. "Who did this?" 

"What's that got to do with you?" 
Jerry defied the scoundrel. 

They did not hear Kent Rogers as he 
tiptoed over the veranda to the open 

"Your friend Kent Rogers fix you," 
snarled Gallagher. "He try warn train, 
but that fool Collins not listen. Almost 
I wish he had listened, because Kent 
Rogers kill six of my best men." 

"Pity he didn't shoot you!" Jerry 

"You fix this between you." 
Gallagher nodded his evil head. "I not 
like men that talk. I'm glad I find you, 
because I close your mouth for ever. 
Then I think that square the deal." 

"Oh, no, you don't!" drawled Kent 
Rogers. "Stay quite still, Gallagher, 
because it would be a real pleasure to 
loose off this gun." 
"I thought you killed!" 
Gallagher's small eyes closed to mere 

"Bad luck, wasn't it?" scoffed Kent. 
"I've been wanting to meet you, 
Gallagher, for some while." 

Lupita came running into the room, 
and Jerry's face lit up at sight of her. 

"Untie Jerry!" Kent cried to her. 
"No one in the corral?" 

"Not a person." Lupita gave - Kent 
a warning glance. "You make him put 
down that gun. I not trust Buck 

"Wisely spoken." The cowboy stared 
in a frank, disconcerting way at Buck 
Gallagher. "I don't kill men in cold 
blood, Gallagher^-I give them a chance. 
We're going outside to decide this affair, 
and the quickest man to the trigger 

Buck Gallagher's evil soul rejoiced. 
He would find some way of shooting 
before Kent gave the signal — afid he 
would not miss. 

Lupita was busy cutting the bonds, 
but she left Jerry to rush towards Kent 
Rogers. Her arms went to Kent's 
shoulders, and her eyes were full of 
fear as she gazed up at him. 

"Oh, please, you not do this!" she 
cried. "He verra bad man. Kent, you 
not do this. You shoot him dead now if 
you like or you knock him on the head, 
but not fight the duel. Please not, 

All this while Buck Gallagher had 
been moving so that now he had his 
right side towards the youngster. 
Quietly his finger closed round the 

Kent was foolish enough to stare 
down at the beautiful Spanish girl, and 
Gallagher, over his shoulder, knew that 
this was his chance. 
"Look out!" 

Jerry Sutton shouted a warning, lie 
had seen (hat flicker in Gallagher's eyes. 
Kent did not shoot as Gallagher 
.swung round his gun, but kicked out 
viciously with his heavy boot, and at the 
same time swung Lupita to one side. 

Every Tuesday 

What happened is hard to say. The 
heavy boot must have crashed against 
Gallagher's knee-cap, causing the leg to 
double up. Gallagher must have lost his 
balance and fallen forward on top of 
his gun. Very possible because both 
hands were holding the gun it would be 
easy to lose the balance. Gallagher, m 
his fall, must have flung out his hands 
to save himself, and fell on top of his 
gun. The gun had a hammer action, 
and the shock released it. 

A dull explosion. Buck Gallagher 
squirmed, and then lay still. 

Lupita and the two men stared down 
at that still figure with horrified eyes. 
Kent was the first to act. He knelt 
beside the crook. 

"Well, that's queer justice." Kent 
turned to them. "He's dead." 

"I'm glad." Lupita's bold eyes 
gleamed. "Now his gang have no 
leader and they break up. It is good. 

What will you " 

Her sensitive ears had heard some- 
thing, and she ran to the door. One 
look she gave, and with a faint cry 
closed the door. 

" Who is it, Lupita ?" cried Jerry. 
"A posse of men." 
Kent and Jerry ran to a window. 
"The sheriff", Collins, and a posse," 
Kent muttered. "This is more of that 
cursed Collins' work. They'll want to 

arrest Jerry, and " His eyes glinted 

and his jaw set. "I know how we can 
fool them." 

"How?" demanded Jerry. "But why 
should you want to fool them? There 
are a lot of things I don't understand, 

and " 

"We'll clear them up later." Kent 
pushed hi6 friend away from the 
window. " Now you do as I say, and 
don't make a sound. Lupita, fetch a 
rug from the bed." 

Without wasting time on questions, 
she flew to do his bidding, whilst the 
cowboy knelt beside Gallagher. Care- 
fully he lifted the dead body and re- 
moved the long-barrelled gun. 

"Give me your gun and your ring, 

Lupita and Jerry saw Kent open the 
man's right hand. He closed the stiffen- 
ing fingers round Jerry's gun, put the 
ring on the third finger, then he took 
the blanket from the girl and flung it 
oyer the body so that only the hand and 
pistol showed. 

"They're nearly here, Kent!" cried 

"Back into that cupboard, Jerry," 
ordered the schemer. "Shut him in, 
Lupita, and remember you must not 
make a sound." 

"But why " 

" Get into that cupboard and keep 
quiet." Kent clenched his fists. "Jump 
to it!" That was done as the posse 
were hitching their horses outside. 
"Now, Lupita, I'll do the talking." He 
placed Gallagher's gun on the table. 
" You come close to me, Lupita, and 
cry softly against my shoulder." 

Lupita was a fine actress, because her 
tears were most realistic. The sheriff, 
Collins, Moe Ginsberg, and three other 
men burst into the shack, and they 
pulled up at the spectacle. Lupita cry- 
ing on Kent's shoulder and Kent staring 
down dully at the still figure. 

"Buck "Gallagher got him." He 
spoke in a toneless voice. "Gallagher 
must have reckoned Sutton had played 
him false. I heard the shooting as I 
rode this way looking for Jerry. I 
jumped on Gallagher as he came out of 
the shack — there's his gun, which he 
dropped— but he managed to make a 
get-away. Ah!" He sighed. "Well, 
th;il settles poor Jerry's troubles." 
Tht; sheriff removed his stetson, and so 
(Continued on page 28.) 

Every Tuesday 


(Continued from page 10.) I 

»» » 

"I want to go back to work on the 
road,'' he said. 

"Gone off your nut?" inquired 
Whitehouse, blinking up at him. 

"No," s-aid Johnny emphatically. "I 
mean it." 

"What makes you think that slinging 
a pick is better than book-keeping and 
tvping ?" 

"Oh, don't you understand?" blurted 
Johnny. '"Those guys think I'm a funk 
because I work in the office, and they 
think Duke turned stool pigeon to get 
me the job." 

"What if they do?" countered White- 
house, who had come to like the boy. 
"What do you care what they think"? 
Are you going to throw your brother 
tlownin the biggest thing he ever did?" 

Johnny hadn't looked at the matter 

in (hat light, and he went back to the 

little table on which the typewriter 

!. Whitehouse's words needed 

thinking out. 

Visitors ! 

IN the afternoon, vehicles of all sorts, 
from buggies to cars, arrived at the 
camp, and wives, sweethearts, 
.'htere, sisters and mothers of the 
convicts were conducted by guards into 
the big hut, where there were a number 
of long tables, each one divided down 
the centre by an upright board bearing 
each side the warning notice: 
" Hands off." 

Mrs. Ellis, a frail little grey-haired 

woman, stepped into the hut with the 

dark-haii I'd girl of the photograph 

eo Schnltz had tried to steal from 


"If you please," she said to a guard 
who was sitting at a desk near the door, 
I 1 .1 : ike to see my sons, Frank and 
Johnny Ellis." 

"Sit down over there," directed the 
d, and pointed to two vacant places 
at the end of one of the tables. 

The sad-faced little woman thanked 
him and -at down beside the girl, I 
two empty chairs beyond the forbidding 
d. A buzz of subdued conversation 
i the room, for at that table, and 
at 01 lets were already talking 

to their visitors. 

"Send Duke Ellis and Ins brother 
o\er, will yon?" said the guard in 
to one of his subordinates. 
All sorts of women faced all sorts of 
.- the tables. Not far from 
Mrs. Ellis a plump and elderly woman 
■ ommunicating by means of the 
and dumb language with a thin 
faced member of the chain gang. Be- 
hind her, at a table in the far con 

resa was conversing excitedly with 
hei man. 

And then Dike came into the hut by 

the door reserved for the convicts, 

looked swiftly round, saw his mother, 

and went over to her and kissed her. 

Mm. Ellis hugged him and tried bra\e|y 

as he fat down facing her 

ling board. 

I ,int you to know Mary KINn," 

•he said. "She's come to see Johnny." 

Dul e looked at the beautiful girl with 

Kom fid eyes and -aid rudely: 

all about you. What 
after Johnny for?" 

Mary Ellen flinched, then flamed. 
" I'm not . basing bim," she said a 
dignantlv. "I just came up hen: to 
" rhat's what I mean," retorted Duke. 


" Do you realise that ninety -nine out of 
every hundred men steal for some dame, 
and keep on stealing for her?" 

It was a brutal thing to say, and Mary 
Ellen turned to Mrs. Ellis in dismay. 

"I don't want to see Johnny get 
hooked for anyone," pursued Duke. "I 
don't want to see him go through what 
the rest of these mugs have gone 

Mary Ellen held her head high and 
her clear grey eyes were defiant. 

"Johnny doesn't have to steal for 
me," she said. "He wouldn't, anyway. 
He's no thief. The only thing that's 
wrong with Johnny is that he thinks 
you're — something wonderful!" 

Duke raised his brows and studied the 
girl with interest. 

"Well, you've got some pluck, any- 
way," he conceded. "That's something 
in your favour." 

"Why, she's a sweet little thing," 
interposed Mrs. Ellis warmly. "She's 
a good cook, too! They don't come 
any finer than she is, Duke. Where — - 
w here's Johnny ?" 

"Aw, he'll be here in a minute or 
two," Duke reassured her. "He's got 
a 6well job, now." 

"Yes?" questioned his mother dubi- 

"Yes — in the office. He's probably 
getting all shined up for you." 

Johnny entered, just then, and flew 
to his mother. 

"Ma!" he cried joyfully. 

She took his face between her 
roughened hands and kissed and wept 
and kissed again. 

"My boy!"' she said brokenly. 




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Starring Norma Shearer, Fredric March 

and Leslie Howard. 


Starring Spencer Tracy and Peggy 


Starring Charles Farrell, Joan Bennett and 

Ralph Bellamy. 
Don't forget to ask for — 




There were tears in Johnny's eyes, and 
Duke looked uncomfortably away. But 
Johnny, sniffing, said : 

"Aw, come on, ma — I don't want you 
crying in front of these guys. They'll 
think I'm a kid, or something." 

She sat down, then, and he seated 
himself beside Duke facing Mary Ellen; 
but his eyes were on his mother's face. 

"You know, Johnny " she said, 
"you're a man now — your ma has got 
two men, now." 

"Don't I get any notice, Johnny?" 
asked Mary Ellen reproachfully; and 
Johnny immediately turned to her. 

"Gosh," he breathed, folding his arms 
on the table and leaning towards her, 
"it was swell of you to come up here 
to see me." 

"Oil, I didn't come up to see you," 
she said, with a glance for Duke. "I 
just came up with your mother to keep 
her company." 

"Well, thats something, anyhow," re- 
joiced Johnny. 

"Maybe I was wrong," said Duke 
almost apologetically to her. "Maybe, 
after all, you're the kind of ball and 
chain he needs for the rest of his life." 

"I told you Duke was swell!" ex- 
claimed Johnny. And then Mrs. Ellis, 
reaching out a hand to the dividing 
board, said tearfully to her elder son : 

"Frank, from the minute Johnny 
could walk he wanted to follow you in 
everything. He worshipped the ground 
you walked on. He — he's your boy, 
now'. I guess it's up to you. He'll 
only be what you'll be." 

Duke bowed his head. His mother's 

gently uttered words were far more 

\e than any direct reproaches. 

His hand stole across to hers and 

held it. 

Maxie Takes a Hand. 

ALL alone in Billing's oflieo, White- 
house examined the contractor's 
files, went systematically through 
the drawers in the desk. He wan look- 
ing for anything worth finding, and at 
last he found something. 

It was a carbon copy of a letter which 
Billings had evidently sent off some 
months before. It ran : 

Mr. James Marsh, 

Marsh Sheet Metal Company, 
My dear Marsh, — Just a line to let you 
know that the sweat box you made for 
me certainly takes the orneriness out of 
onvictS, Ever since 1 put it on 
this Liberty Road job the work has kept 
up to schedule. It's the best medicine 
for spring fever. 

Cordially yours, 

Whitehouse gave a little whistle of 
astonishment as he read this damning 
piece of evidence against, the contractor, 
and he did not put it back where he 
had found it. Instead, he folded it care- 
fully, slipped it into his own wallet, and 
put the wallet back into his pocket. 

After the visitors had left the camp, 
and the evening meal was over, the con- 
victs—as though they had enjoyed far 
too much freedom that day — were 
marched off to their sleeping quarters 
and locked in. 

But Whitehouse was slill at work in 
the oflieo, and Johnny was helping him, 
typing letters which the Commissioner's 
agent had drafted in pencil. There was, 
however, one letter Whitehouse wrote 
with a pen, and its last paragraph ran 
as follows: 

1 wish to urge the parole of John 
Ellis, 18. He shows every sign of going 
straight — and, what's more, his parole 
will have a good effect on another 

January 21st, 1033. 


The lstler was to the Commissioner 
who had sent him to the camp, and he 
was signing it when Johnny called 

"I'll do that one for you if you like, 
Mr. Whitehouse." 

Whitehouse smiled to himself, but re- 
plied : 

"That's all right — this one will do as 
it is." 

He folded, the letter, put it in an 
envelope and addressed it, and he was 
sealing the flap when a guard entered 
and placed on the desk some letters 
which had just arrived by hand from 
the county gaol. 

*' Want me .to open the mail, Mr. 
Whitehouse?" inquired Johnny, stepping 
forward and picking up a paper-knife. 

Thanks, kid." 

Johnny opened a foolscap envelope 
and fished out from it a letter and an 
official-looking document. He put the 
open letter on the blotting pad in front 
of .Whitehouse, but he gaped at the en- 
dorsement on the document. For this 
is what he read: 

The People of the State of Michigan 

Frank Ellis. 

Extradition Proceedings. 

Requisition upon the Governor. 

Tne document fluttered from his hand 
and Whitehouse picked it up and opened 
it out. 

"Ixjoks like your brother has been 
very busy," he remarked. 

"How much will he have to do?" 
gasped Johnny. 

"'Well," said Whitehouse, studying the 
document, "this being his fourth con- 
viction makes him ' habitual.' That 
means life." 

"Oh, no!" cried Johnny, horrified. 

"Sorry, kid. That's the law." 

"Life!" Over and over again the boy 
repeated the word. "Life!" 

"It's too bad, Johnny," said Wnite- 
house sympathetically, "but there's no- 
thing we can do about it." 

He refolded the document and put it 
away with the letter in a drawer of a 
steel filing-cabinet. Then, having read 
the rest of the mail and dealt with it, 
he picked up his hat and patted Johnny 
on the shoulder. 

"Have to attend to that requisition 
to-morrow," he said. "Good-night, 

He went out, closing the door behind 
him. and for several minutes Johnny 
stood clenching and unclenching his 
hands. Somehow he must save Duke 
from this worse fate that threatened. 

With sudden resolution he went over 
to the filing cabinet, took out the dread- 
ful document and tried to master its 
legal phraseology. One thing at least 
w.i- clear; unless Duke could escape he 
would be incarcerated for life. 

He thrust the document into his pocket 
and 6tared across the room at a padlocked 
door. Beyond that door, as he knew 
well, a number of rifles were kept, but 
only Skinner and Billings possessed keys 
to the padlock. 

lie opened the front door and went 
out into the darkness, presently to return 
with a crowbar; and with the crowbar 
he wrenched the padlock from its fa6ten- 
Thenj diving into the store-room, 
he snatched a rifle from one of the racks 
and went out with it. 

SUiunur was in his own office, prac- 
tising on his beloved violin, as the boy 
flitted past the cabin, making for the 
pen. There was only one guard on duty 
by the wagjon6 and he was dozing on a 
box with Ins back to a shed. 

From a hook in Billings' office Johnny 
January 21st, 1933. 


had taken a bunch of keys, and, reach- 
ing the door of the end wagon, he fitted 
one of the keys in the lock. 

Stealthily he opened the door, and 
stealthily he mounted the steps. All the 
men were fast asleep in their bunks, but 
they were not chained to their bunks. 
Purvis, the guard on duty, had 
neglected to shackle them as yet. 

Johnny, reaching up to Duke's bunk, 
shook his brother gently by the arm. 

"Duke, Duke," he whispered, "wake 
up! Wake up, Duke! Here's a gun! 
You've got to make a break for it." 

Duke stirred, yawned, and opened his 

" What the " he began loudly; but 

Johnny, in a panic, clapped a hand over 
his mouth. 

The smothered exclamation had, how- 
ever, wakened several of the convicts. 

"Come on, snap out of it!" urged 
Johnny in a low voice. "A hold-over 
warrant from Michigan just came in ! 
They say you're a fourth offender! It 
means life !" 

Maxie, straining his ears in the bunk 
below, heard every word and blinked at 
the rifle in the boy's hands. But Duke 
sat up and said quite loudly : 

" Take that gun back where you got 
it. I'll make my own getaway when it's 
time. I'm not going to have you do an 
extra five yeais on my account." 

"What do I care about five years?" 
said Johnny, putting down the rifle to 
plead with his brother. " You've got to 
do life in Michigan." 

He began to pull his brother's long 
chain through the ring in the frame- 
work of the bunk, but Duke stopped him 

" Do as I tell you !" he hissed. " Take 
that gun back !" 

But Maxie had grabbed hold of the 
rifle, and now he 6prang out of his bunk 
with it and levelled its barrel at Johnny. 

" Come on !" he cried triumphantly. 
"Put up your hands! Shove 'em up 
now! Keep 'em up!" 

Johnny looked questioningly at his 
brother in the faint moonlight, but Duke 
had already raised his hands. 

"Go ahead, kid," he growled. "He's 
screwy enough to shoot." 

"Come on now," insisted Maxie, 
" open 'em all up ! All the chains, I 
mean. Come on !" 

"That's the idea, Maxie," approved 
Hype, pulling his own chain through the 
ring in his bunk. "Keep it on, boy!" 

Johnny, because he must, pulled all 
the chains through the rings one after 
another; and one after another the con- 
victs got out of their bunks, and he was 
compelled to retrieve the bunch of keys 
from the lock of the door and to remove 
their spurred leg-irons. 

Fire ! 

SKINNER was producing wailing 
notes from his violin, and the som- 
nolent guard was still dozing on his 
box as the convicts stole out from the 

Hype, one of the first to descend, 
made straight for Skinner's cabin with 
the transformed spoon in his hand. 

The brutal captain was sitting close 
to the uncurtained window of his office, 
and his back was towards it. 

He swung round in alarm at the 
sound of breaking glass, but he did not 
even have time to cry out. The dagger 
which had been a spoon was driven 
violently between his ribs into his right 
lung, and, with a horrible gurgling 
sound he got to his feet, dropping the 
violin and the bow, tottered a few feet 
forward, and crashed down on his back. 

The sheet music, which had been 
propped up on the table before him, 
showered down upon him. The voice of 
Hype reached him as he lay dying. 

Every Tuesday 

"There's that spoon you been looking 
for!" yelled the convict. 

After all the others had left the pie- 
wagon, Duke slid down from his bunk 
and reached the door. Johnny followed 
him, but was flung to the floor. 

"You've only got three months to 
do," Duke shouted at him. " You stay 
there I" 

He slammed the door and locked it, 
then ran off. One of the convicts had 
killed the sleeping guard ; others were 
releasing the rest of the chain gang 

Johnny sprang up on to a bunk to 
thrust his frightened face between the 
bars, and saw men running past him. 
He cried frantically : 

"Let me out, some of you guys!" 

But the convicts, intent on vengeance 
and escape, took no notice of him. 

The guards, in their bunkhouse, were 
surrounded and dragged forth into the 
night, and Whitehouse was captured in 
the act of undressing and made to join 
the others. 

While Maxie threatened with the rifle 
he had appropriated, the guards were 
bundled into one of the pie-wagons and 
the door was locked on them. 

Pop-Eye, who had been off duty, 
came running to the pen at the sound 
of all the commotion, and Whitehouse 
yelled to him. 

" Pop-Eve, get us out of here ! Here, 
Pop-Eye I" 

Pop-Eye rushed forward, but Maxie 
turned the rifle on him and fired, and 
the guard collapsed with a bullet in his 

Pandemonium reigned. The convicts 
raided the store-rooms and armed them- 
selves with rifles and six-shooters, and 
then, to complete the work of destruc- 
tion, one of them deliberately set fire to 
a shed in which cans of kerosine were 

Amid a series of minor explosions the 
shed blazed, and flaming fragments fell 
on other sheds and cabins. The camp 
became a roaring furnace from which 
dark figures fled. 

The kitchen burst into flames, and the 
flames spread, reaching the petrol dump, 
which exploded. 

Johnny, beating helplessly at the bars 
of the wagon in which his brother had 
locked him, heard the frantic shouting of 
the imprisoned guards, watched with dis- 
may the approaching inferno, and saw 
Maxie looking on the ground for the 
spectacles he had dropped. 

"Let me out, Maxie!" he cried 
desperately. "Oh, let me out!" 

Maxie found his spectacles and 
adjusted them carefully on his nose, 
viewing the conflagration with glee. 
Johnny called to him again, and this 
time he heard. 

He unlocked the door of the wagon, 
and as Johnny tumbled down the steps 
rushed off. 

The fencing of the pen was ablaze; 
the mules, in their corral, were making 
frightened noises. Johnny looked to 
right and left, uncertain which way to 
go, wondering what had become of the 
brother he adored. 

Whitehouse caught sight of him, and 
shouted : 

"Hi, Johnny, Johnny! Let us out of 
here, will you?" 

Johnny, in the light of the flames, 
stared dubiously at the imprisoned 
guards who were calling and waving to 

"You're not going to let us burn in 
here like rats, are you ?" bellowed 

"How am I going to let you out?" 
Johnny exclaimed. 

"Get a hold of that gun, Johnny," 
urged Whitehouse, pointing to the rifle | 
Pop-Eye had dropped as he fell. "Go 
ahead— grab it ! Blow the lock off t" 

Every Tuesday 

Johnny snatched up the rifle and with 
:ot the lock to pieces ; but as Whitc- 
the door wide he raised the 
rifle to his shoulder. 

Stand back ," he cried, "or I shoot!" 

"Now listen, Johnny,'' pleaded White- 

bou • ua top step. "Don't make 

i-take your brother did, 

use when they bring him back here 

they're going to hang him ! Now listen, 

Johnny, don't go, boy! If you stay here 

TJ be out in a week. Now believe 

me ' 

He was descending the steps while he 

speaking, and the guards were 

crowding behind him. Johnny, backing 

. from the wagon, broke in wildly: 

"I don't believe you! I don't believe 

you I" 

Yet somehow he could not pull the 

trigger. He did pot want to hang, but 

his brother must not hang, either. He 

• find him and warn him. He flung 

down the rifle and bolted. 

Right through the flaring remnants of 
the fence :ough 

ground to the shelter. of a wood, while 
Whitehouse, followed by the guards, 
made his way out from the pen winch 
had ceased to be a pen. 
The gua ed, but Whitehouse 

panic-stricken than they, reached 
the office of the contractor, as yet only 
partly on fire. 

The telephone on Billing'-: desk was 
He rang up 
i] Vulcan. If 

his home. Il< 
. up the captain of the file brigade. 
Pin it for the camp on 

the ; Road at top speed! Tiie 

sheriff rounded tip a number of 
volunt • ■ them to his 


"And don't forget, men," lie said to 

i he bad explained the circum- 

that yon get fifty dollar-- a 

id you bring back.'' 

"How much if they're dead, sheriff?" 

inquired an avaricious farmer, 

"Fifty, dead or alive," was the reply. 
Long lie fun- dawn nearly a hundred 

countryside for 

ions of the 

iff and the police; and in the n 

ing their numtx v in- 

boys joined — unbidden — 

in the man-hunt. 

The fire, by dawn, had been cxtin- 
it only a heap of smouldering 
remained of what had 

which the "fish tank 


" Th» Wrong Way ! " 

PI BLY thi net boi n of 

having been herded together for 
the convicts fli«l in little 
the nighl Bu( 
Johnny, having escaped ,.; 

dered at first in quite a diffi 
ion from that which his brother 
had taken. 

The i about the Lil 

Road varied < hi I here 

■ i rile valley-, several 
of which the 

. them, plunged 
n, in 

row of moving figures. There were 
plenty of little caves among the rocks, 
but the pursuit was drawing uncom- 
fortably near. 

"As soon as it gets dark,'' derided 
Duke, "we're going to spiit up. We've knew it because h 
got a better chance of getting through 
by ourselves." 

Johnny, without realising it, had 
changed his course during "the night, 
and at that moment was less than a 
quarter of a mile away. But he had 
covered so much ground that he was 
worn out and could hardly drag one leg 
before the other. 

He, too, had seen a line of advancing 
figures to the north, but it was quite a 
different line. He clambered down a 
bank into a long hollow and paused 
there to recover a measure of strength. 
Fo ;r boys from a neighbouring village. 
who had set out on their own account 
Ho try to run the convicts to earth, 
appeared on the batik high above him, 
and one of them was carrying a six- 
shooter which belonged to "his father. 
A foolish adventure which might, quite 
ly, have ended tragically for them; 
- it happened, they -tumbled only 
upon Johnny. The boy with the six- 
shooter whispered *o his compa: 
then took aim and fired. 

Johnny heard tt and felt a 

sudden Bting in hi, left shoulder. He 

i p. 
"What did you do that for?" he 
asked d 

th the gun '.'aped, -tam- 
ben, fright 
at what be had done, took to his I 
with the other 1 i him. 

and dizzy, tot- 
tered farther along the hollow to a 
brook fed by a waterfall from the rooks 
above and stooped to drink; but wcak- 

overcame him and he coll.. 
upon the h 

It was the deaf and dumb convict who 
caught sight of him there. He had left 
the others in their .hiding-place to e 
by himself without waiting for dark- 
but, recognising Johnny, he 
climbed down to him, found that DC 

ded and unconscious, and went back 
lie gestured with his head and his 
hand- excited but unintelligible 

ged at Duki ' 
pointing towards the hollow. 

The Med to silence him, but 

rose and motioned to him to lead 
the way. 

Or. at that prone figure in 

the hollow was sufficient for hi- 

ned down to the brook, 
knelt beside his brother and raised him 

Th> Heel with crim- 

son, and Duke -oaked a haudki i 
in the water while the deaf-mute 
away the ihirt. The wound was bathed 
and bound, and then Duki 

. er his own broad iho tldi 
set resolutely off in the direction of the 

It was as he was striding out from a 
that Johnny recovered his set 

"Duk. v, "you'r. 

Dg way !" 
"No, I'ii sxed Duke 

"I'm taking yos to where 
there s a doctor and some medicine, 
nd .M;« i \ 

'II hang : I e! They'll 

d Duke rs- 

"Thcy may take . 

'■ h :y- it 
"it'* funny, [you do 


isn't it? I didn't feel the shot. I just 

felt a little sting." 
"Sure, kid." 

"It makes you— kinda— weak, thoug 
Johnny had fainted again, and Duke 

e was once more carry- 

But he kept 

ing a dead weight. 
doggedly on his way. 

By late afternoon practically all the 
convicts had been either recaptured or 
shot down. 

The group Duke had left behind 
among the rocks were surrounded and 
surrendered. Men who had taken refuge 
in trees were scented by the blood- 
hounds and forced to descend, and the 
deaf and dumb convict was shot down 
by a farmer before he had covered a 
quarter of a mile just as he rose in- 
cautiously from a bush behind which he 
had tried to conceal himself. 

Justice ! 

IT was not till Duke had reached the 
fringe of the burnt-out camp that he 
was seen. Captured convicts were 
being driven into the "fish tank" and into 
pens hurriedly erected; but three of the 
guards stared in astonishment as he 
advanced wearily towards them, his face 
haggard and streaming with perspira- 
tion, his unconscious brother hanging 
limply over his shoulder. 

Billings was gloomily surveying the 
wreck and rum of -lied- and cabins and 
stores when the news was brought to 
him. Whitehouse, a> well as the captain 
of the firj brigade and the Sheriff of 
Vulcan, were with him. 

"Well," he stud bitterly, "my goose 
■iked in tin- fire, but I'll get some 
M ■■tion out of seeing the ringleaders 
hanged !" 

guard came running up. 
"They've caught the Fllis boys!" ho 

Billings and his companions walked 
over to the spot I ike was being 

held prisoner. Johnny had been placed 
on a stretcher in which other wounded 
convicts had already been conveyed to 
hospital, and an ambulance stood near. 
"Sheriff," cried Billings venomously, 
"I want both brothers held for mine 

"You can't, hang this on Johnny," 
exploded Duke, "1 made him come 
back with me." 

"You understand me, sheriff?" in- 
listed the contractor. "I want Johanj 
Fllis held for murder. He was one ol 
the ringleadi 

"Not tin.- boy, Billings,'' said White 
house sternly. 

"Aw, don't waste your sympathy on 
a killc: 

"Killer?" echoed Whitehouse indig- 
nantly. "Why, this boy saved 61 
guard in camp from being burned to 

The sheriff eyed the contractor with 
a certain amount at acoxn. 
"What's the poim in prosecuting this 
Hillings.'' he said, "with White- 
house giving him a clean bill of 

Johnny called I tchei 

at that moment, and Duke turned plead 
ingly to i!' 
"Let me talk to my brother, will 

he -aid. 
McCarthy nodded, and Duke went 
down on his knee- be ide her. 

"Here I am, kid," Duke said gently. 
" I ten I an. Johnny." 

Johnny linked wistfully up at him. 

" Aw. gee, Duke. " he said in a faint 

voice, "why did yon brine me. back?' 
"Don't be a chump, .Johnny." Duke 

!fou baa to be taken care 
of, dido 

But look at I. h they'll make 

January 21st, 1933. 


"I got away once, didn't I? All I 
care about is what happens to you. And 
I'd feel great, Johnny, no matter where 
I am, if I'd know that you'd be taking 
care of ma, the way she wants — and 
Mary Ellen, too." 

"Sure, I'll do that," whispered 
Johnny. "You know me, Duke." 

"Is that a promise, kid?" 

"You bet.' 

Duke nodded slowly and stroked his 
brother's hand. 

"Then you'll do whatever Whitehouse 
tells you to," lie said," getting to his 
feet. "Don't you worry about me, 

"I'll never worry about you, Duke," 
murmured the boy. 

The doctor stepped forward, beckon- 
ing to the ambulance men. 

"Ail right," he said crisply, "take 
the boy down to the hospital." 

"I'd consider it a personal favour, 
doc," said Whitehouse earnestly, "if 
you'd go along with the kid and kinda 
look after him until he's safely put to 

The doctor nodded, and after the 
stretcher had been placed in the ambu- 
lance, entered the vehicle himself. 

It was driven away, and a guard 
caught hold of Duke's arm. But. Bill- 
ings, strode savagely forward, and, shak- 
ing a list in his face, said: 

"Well, if I have any influence, you're 
going to hang for this!" 

"It would be a pleasure," retorted 
Duke, "if 1 thought you were stretching 
a rope alongside of me!" 

"Yeah?" sneered the contractor. 

"Yeah! -For the murder of the Carter 

A powerful saloon car was seen ap- 
proaching It came to a standstill close 
beside them,, and an elderly man in a 
light grey Suit descended from it. . 

"The governor!" exclaimed White- 
house.- ■ - 

It was the Prison Commissioner, and 
Billings greeted him effusively. 

"How are. you,' sir?" he asked. 

"Not so "good, Billings," replied the 
Coommiisioner 'sternly, "when I think 
of what's happened here! It never would 
have happened if you hadn't driven the 
men to it. This finishes you, Billings!" 

"Not altogether, sir," said White- 
house, and took out his wallet, from 
which he produced the carbon copy of 
the letter the contractor had written to 
Marsh 'concerning the sweat-box. He 
handed it to the Commissioner, who read 
. > it through twice, while Billings stared 
in dismay and the others looked on won- 
deringly. . . 

"Billings," said the Commissioner, 
more sternly than ever, "this looks a< if 
you will have to. answer for the death 
of that Carter boy!" 

"You can't pin that on me!" howled 

"Not when we prove that the sweat- 


This Grand 






And a 
Nest Week 

Ask for 


Now on Sale - - 2d. 

oox was your idea?" thundered White- 

"Yes, Billings," said the Commis- 
sioner, "I'll Imve vou put under arrest. 

• The sheriff whipped out a pair of 
handcuffs and snapped them on the con- 
tractor's wrists.' The Commissioner 
handed the carbon copy back to White- 
house, who immediately said to the 

"Oh, McCarthy, we'll need Duke 
Klhs as a material witness against 

A guard had put handcuffs on Duke's 
wrists; but Duke, with a grin, swung 
round on the other prisoner. 
. '.' You've always wanted me to turn 
stool pigeon, Billings," he said. "1 
never knew what a pleasure it would be 
until now!" 

He was led away to one of the impro- 
vised pens, and as he entered it, 
Matthew, who was squatting on the 
ground, looked up at him with the 
solemnity of an owl. 
' '.'Comrade," he said, "are you back?" 

''Say, Matthew," laughed Duke, 
"why didn't you try to escape? Haven't 
you ovei tried to escape?" 

"Brothet," responded Matthew, rais- 
ing his hands, "a man can escape from 
the strongest gaol, but can you tell me 
how he can possibly gel away from three 
wives? Prison is a pleasure!" 

"Yea. brother!" chuckled Duke. 

(By permission of Radio Pictures, Ltd., 

starring Richard Dix, with Tom Brown 

and Rochelle Hudson.) 

Every Tuesday 


(Continued from page 24.) 

did the others. Collins stared down at 
the still figure, but for once his fertile 
brain could think of no arguments. 

"Guess we'll come back some other 
time." The sheriff touched Kent's 
shoulder with a gesture of sympathy. 
"It's sure tough, but maybe it's for the 

The posse had gone, bul not till the 
posse had got to horse did they dare to 
breathe freely. 

Moe Ginsberg left the posse a few 
minutes later on some excuse and 
doubled back to the shack. Kent 
Rogers and Jerry Sutton wore doing 
some explaining as Moe Ginsberg 
stepped on to the veranda. 

J never intended to dpuble-cross the 
wagon train," cried Jor.y. "But I 
couldn't tell Gallaghei that, could I?" 

"I never thought of that," cried 
Kent. "Why the heck didn't you trust 
me. I thought it was a frame-up 
between you " 

"May 1 come in?" cried a husky 
voice, and in walked Ginsberg. "Do 
not be alarmed, boys. 1 am all by my- 
self. You bluff Collins and the sheriff, 
hut not this child. That ring not yet 
paid for," Moe smiled. "I look at it 
pretty sharp, and I see by the way it 
fils that it is not the hand of ' Jerry 
Sutton. Jerry he have fat fingers, but 
dis man have thin ones. You have 

Gallagher under that rug." 

" You're too cute for us, Moe," sigh 'I 

"I take back Ihe ring, and you boys 
ride away." Moe Ginsberg grinned. "I 
like you, boys, but 1 think yoii betlor 
off in Arizona. 1 tell Ihe judge, the 
sheriff, and Mister Collins ail about it. 
You write me and 1 write you. 1 put 
this right, and then maybe you comt- 
back." He shook his head. "But 
better you stay away." 

"You're a great fellow, Moe!" cried 

"And I ui\e him good burial." 
Moe's grin laded. "But ivho pay for it 
- that worry me." 

"Ask Collins," suggested Rogers, and 
Ginsberg ga\e a most emphatic nod. 

Half an hour later two horsemen rode 
away from the shack. On the veranda 
were Ginsberg and Lupita, the latter 
\sitli her head on the little man's 
shoulder. But for all her smiles ami 
laughter the tears were streaming down 
her face. 

Kent and Jerry turned and w.iwd, 
(hen they set their hoise* towards th«« 
Border and a new life in Arizona. 
(By permission of P.D.C., starring Rex 
Bell and Neoma Judge.) 



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London, E.C.I. 



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BOY'S C1XEMA, The Fleet tvay Mouse, Varringdon Street, 

London , E.V.4. 

Printed and published every Tuesday by the Proprietors, Thk Amalgamated PRB3S, Ltd., The Fleet way House, Farringdon Street, London, E.C.4, 

Advertisement Offices: The Fleetway House, Farrin'gdon Street, London, E.C.4. Subscription Hates: Inland and Abroad, 11/- per annum. 

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January 2tst, 193:j, registered for transmission to Canada at Magazine Kates S.G. 



? Don't miss the Special Announcement on Page 11! 

No. 685. 


JANUARY 28th, 1933. 


Every Tuesday 

All letters to the Editor should be addressed to BOY'S CINEMA, Room 163, The Fleetway House, Farringdon Street, London, E.C.4. 

" Hidden Gold." 

Tom Muiley, Tom litis; 
Nora Lane. Judith Bailie ; 
"Spike" Weber, Raymond 
llarton ; "Doc : ' Griffin, 
Donald Kirke; "Big" Bon 
Cooper, Eddie (J ribbon. 



to a 

vho had to mist his life 
marksman's skill. 

" Speed Madness." 

Bob Smart. Richard Tal- 
niadgC; Forbes, L u c i e n 
Littlefield; Mr. Man lieu 
Stuart, Charles Sellon : Joan 
Harlan. Nancy Drexcl • 
AfeCary, Par O'Mallev; Har- 
rington, Unntly Gordon: 
Jossin, Machcw Betz: Bill 
Collector, Wade Boteler; 
Alan Harlan. Donald Keith. 

" The Jungle Mystery." 
Kirk Montgomery, Tom 
Tyler; Fred Oakes, Noah 
Beery, Jun. ; Barbara 
Morgan, Cecelia Parker; 
John Morgan, William Des- 
mond; Georges Conllas-. 
Philo McCullough; Belle 
W a 1 d r o n , Carmelita 
Geraghty; Boris Shillov, 
James Marcus ; Krotskv, 
Anders van Haden; Kazi- 
moto, Frank Lackteen ; Azu. 
Peggy Watts; Zungu, 


While French and British battled for supremacy in Canada 
Redskin vengeance loomed dark behind the scenes. Read the 
double-length opening episode or this serial drama of an English 
Scout's adventures in the vivid days of General Wolfe, starring 
Harry Carey and Hobart Bosworth. 

With Tom Mix At Work. 
T'.vo readers who saw Tom 

Mix's fust talkie "Destry 

Hides Again,"' have written 

asking whether, owing to his 

recent illness, he used a 

"double" in the pictures, and 

if there was any faking in the 

shooting pceiic*. r j"|, P answer 

to both questions is No. 
Tom Mix is the last person 

in the world who would think 

of agreeing to a "double'' 

doing anything for him in 

lilms. Though warned by (he 

doctor to "go easy " alter he 

had left hospital, be insisted 

on going through the whole of his pan 

in "Destry Hide.- Again." 

And as for his shooting, well his 
'■xpert marksmanship does away with 
the need for faking of any kind. In 
one scene a youngster threw an apple 
into the air at the same time inviting 
the cowboy to hit it. Like a Hash of 
lightning, Tom drew his pearl-handled 
gun and with ono shot, blew the apple 
10 bits. 

Ben StolofT. the director, watched (he 
act admiringly, "Say, Tom," he called, 
"while you are in this shooting mood 
suppose we do the scene in which Ed 
Peale is tied up and backed against (he 
barn. You'll have to shoot three times 
at his head, finally missing it by an 
inch. Do you feel you could do it 

"Sure," drawled Tom. "let's go." 
He took up his position about ten 

feet from Peale and at a given signal 
January 2Stli, 1033. 


A cattle thief stirs up strife between the Redskins and the White 
Men, but a paleface " brave " dogj his trail like a menacing 
shadow. A stirring story of the West, starring Buck Jones and 
Barbara West. 


A tale of the playing fields and how the lure of gambling nearly 

ruined the lives of two young athletes. Starring Richard Arlen 

and John Darrow. 





started firing. And believe it or not he 
used real bullets. The first splintered 
(he woodwork of the barn ftve inches 
from Peale's head. The next bullet was a 
little closer, about three inches from his 
ear. Peale had to use all his nerve 
power to keep still, though he confessed 
afterwards that his bean was thumping 
away for all it was worth. 

After all there was the dread feeling 
that one bullet at least might hit him! 
Then came the signal again to fire for 
the last lime. Cameramen, director and 
all held their breath. Tom Mix took 
a steady aim and fired. The bullet 
whizzed past Peale's head and struck 
the woodwork an inch away as arranged. 
Then, as required by (he story, Peale 
had to beg for mercy. 

5Tet it is difficult to say who was (ho 
braver of the two. The actor who had 
to fire at a fellow human being, or the 

Wild Animal Trainer's 

Tigers are afraid of lions. 

'this is the opinion of Charles 

Beatty, .said to be the world's 

micr of wild animals, 

Beatty is at present in 
Universal City, California, 
where Universal is starring 
him in a picture entitled 

"The Big Cage." A ber 

of lid - ill be ■ een 

in the film. 

I [e agrees that if one 
were to be matched against 
one lion, the king of b 
would decidedly get the worst 
of it. But, he adds, he has 
>een more tigers killed in 
fights when several of them 
have met a number of j 
It is then that the tiger- .-how 
more fear. The reason is that 
the lion fights in g. 
where, ■ I In- tlgei battles only 
as an individual. Lions will 
gu quickly to the aid of one 
of their kind when in di- 
bul a tiger will sit coolly aloof 
and see his brother tiger being 
knocked out. 

Charles Beatty, who is 
l went ,n s of age, is 

of small .statute and has a 
pleasant smiling countenance 
which could hardly be ex- 
ported to inspire fear in wild 
tie doit, not, believe 
in wasting time glaring at his 
lions and tigers in the hope 
ot subduing them, but moves 
about in an agile manner, : litis 

impressing them with the force 
of his skill in a more demon- 
strative way. 
Savage beasts, even after 

being taught to po, form tricks, 
never really become tame. 
The trainer nlm enters their 
cage continually runs the risk 
of being attacked, and Beatty bears 

numerous seats m proof of many narrow 
escapes lie has had while working with 
jungle animals. 

The Universal film. "The Big Cage," 
which began production the other week, 
is being packed with thrills taken from 
Beatty's life as a wild animal trainer. 
The film will show how the human 
mind can control the primitive power 
of the jungle lords. 

It Pays to Advertise ! 
The cinema manager was very angry 
"What's the matter?" asked his. 

assistant. "Is there anything wrong?- 
"Anything wrong?" reiterated the 

manager. " Why, you've advertised foe 

next week, ' Smiling Eyes with a 

strong cast ! ' - 

Every Tuesday 


He served time in the State gaol to gain the confidence of a gang of crooks. The story 
of a cowboy prize-fighter who went through fire and danger to uphold Justice. 

Car Bandits. 

A BURGLAR alarm was pealing 
•n the premises of the Cattle- 
men's Trust and Barings' Bank, 
State Street, San Antonio. Its tone 
seemed loud enough to awaken the 
hundred and sixty thousand souls who 
lived in 1 1 1 » - Texas city, but it was only 
intended for the ears of the highly 
efficient police department. 
'I" come hurrying from the 

One was a sleek and immaculate 
rogue known to liis intimates as "Doc " 
Griffin, the nickname being applied to 
lurn b eca use be had once studied for 
His companions were 
Weber and Big Ben Cooper, 
first a small but wiry fellow with a 
' nose and a somewhat comical face, 
• ud a big, bullring individual 
i .1 in. 
Griffin was carrying a suit-case that 
'■■ 1 f ill with coin and notes, 
lb- led the way to a touring-car that 
.•rb, and tumbled into it, 
ites following him in hot 

I Mobile drew away from the 

ilk, and with whining gear* raced 

the street. But it was still in 

i couple of police cars 

« of the bank prenj 

of law and order gave 

tile, a patrolman on the E 
Street beat bad called up hcadqua, 

il long before every radio 
• environs of the city was re- 
s' iii-triu eep a look-out 
for Hi- thieves. For Doc Griffin and 
trail at once became 
though they eeeaped 
to* n, they knew full well that 

extensive forest a mije 
> the city, and the crooks 

branched off along a byway that led 
through the trees. They could not 
hope to elude arrest by this course of 
action, but, when they ultimately picked 
up the main road again to find them- 
selves hemmed in by police care, they 
no longer i the suit rase with 

the funds of the Cattlemen's Bank. 

Spike was at the wheel, and the little 
fellow pulled up abruptly and looked 
at the armed representatives of the law 
in the most innocent fashion. 

"Stick Ym up, you birds." one of 
the officers ordered curtly, "and come 
on out of that car." 

"What's the idea?" growled Big Ben 
Cooper, from the back of the auto. 

t, what is this?" complained the 
Doc. "A gag?" 

It was no gag so far as the police 

officers «ere concerned, and, after they 

had been disarmed and their car 

lied for the loot, the three suspects 

were conveyed bo headquarters, where 
e before the chief. 
Captain Miiligan, and a group of plain- 
clothes men, among whom was Detective. 
Lieutenant McDermott, Milligan's 
scond in command. 

"Have yon checked up on these three 
men, McDermott?" Miiligan asked the 
detective-lieutenant, and, with a glance 
at the pr is o n er s , McDermott inclined 
In- bead and produced a sheet of paper. 

"Edward Mortimer Griffin," he read, 

"known as Doc Grillin. Age 37, born 
in Indiana. Released from Illinois Peni- 
tentiary on March 10th, 1923, after serv- 

iiiL' three year sentence for burglary. 

Alleged leader of tfail trie, arid was 

'iy manager of prizefighters." 

Griffin stood smiling sardonically, and 
then looked at Big Ben while the latter's 
record was being given out. 

". . . . Age 42, born in California. 
Served sentence for burglary and high- 
way robbery at Stockton, paroled 
July 19th, 1927. Former occupation, 
heavy-weight fighter under Griffin's 

The detective-lieutenant lowered hi* 
eyes to the tally of facts relating to 

". . . . Age 32, born in Louisiana. 
Served sentence at Ifuntsville, Texas, 
for grand larceny. Released August 6th. 
1924. Former occupation, bantam-weight 
fighter, also managed by Griffin." 

Spike possessed few qualities, but he 
had a sense of humour, and he struck 
an attitude with fists upraised. He was 
gruffly ordered to stand to attention, 
and then Captain Miiligan spoke. 

"Now, listen, you fellows," he n d 
to the three crooks, "you know we've 
got you cold for this bank job, but if 
you tell us where you buried or cached 
that money we'll put in a word to I he 
t attorney for you." 

Doc Griffin spread out his hands in 
a suave gesture of appeal. 

"Chief, I'll tell you all I know," be 
declared. "I was standin' on the corner 
when my friend Spike comos along in 
his car. We go for a ride, and the 
first thing 1 know every copper in the 
county is on the road. I tell Spike Id 
pull over and let 'em pass, an' the 
next thing I know I'm being mugged 
and linger printed. That's the truth, 
chief, so help me." 

January 28th. IMS. 

"I think you almost believe that story 
yourself," the Chief of Police remarked 
sourly. "All right, boys, take him 

Griffin was escorted from the inter- 
rogation room to a cell, and Milligan 
turned to Big Ben Cooper. 

"What have yon got to say" he de- 

"Chief, I'll tell you all I know," Ben 
announced, parrot-fashion. "I was 
standin' on the corner when me friend 
Spike comes along in his car " 

He repeated Griffin's bland explana- 
tion without varying in one particular, 
and he in turn having been removed, 
the chief glanced at Spike Weber. 

"Well, you heard what they said," 
he commented. "It was your car that 
was used on the job, and you did the 
driving. Now, Spike, I don't want to 
see you go to the pen." 

"That's where he ought to be," put 
in Detective-Lieutenant McDermott. 

"You're wrong, Mac," the chief pro- 
tested. "I'd like to give this kid 

Spike advanced a step. 

"Kid Leniency!" he scoffed. "Say, I 
knocked that guy out ten years ago in 
Spokane. If you want to do me a 
favour, chief, gimme the champ." 

"All right, Spike," Milligan rejoined, 
with a good-natured laugh. "Bat 
seriously — you tell us where that money 
is, and I'll let you walk out of here." 

In appearance Spike was the very 
essence of simplicity, but he had a 
crafty side to his nature that Milligan 
did not suspect, and, when the little 
prizefighter seemed to waver, the chief 
honestly believed that he was on the 
verge of disclosing the whereabouts of 
the haul. 

"You know where we were stopped on 
the road," Spike began. "Well, there's 
a branch-track there, and you go right 
along it till you come to some trees." 

"Yes," said Milligan eagerly. 

"Well, you keep walkin'," Spike con- 
tinued, " and you come to some more 
trees — great, tall trees, and teeny little 

"Of course, of course," the chief 
agreed, with some impatience. " We 
know that, Spike. There's a forest 
there — the biggest forest in Texas." 

Spike nodded. 

"Sure," he said, "there's dead trees, 
an' big, healthy live trees. Nothin' 
but trees — thousands of 'em, millions of 
'em. And the swag is buried " 

"Yes, yes, where is it buried?" 

"Under one o' them trees," Spike 
murmured, with a sly wink. "An' 
that's the truth, chief, 60 help me." 

Milligan leaned back in disgust. 
Thousands of trees — millions of trees — 
and under one of them the funds of the 
Cattlemen's Bank was buried ! Spike 
Weber was certainly informative, but 
not to the extent of betraying the hid- 
ing-place of the spoil. 

"Take him away," snapped Milligan. 

From Ranch to Prize-Ring. 

A BUNCH of cowboys were gath- 
ered near a corral on the Lane 
Ranch, about thirty miles west of 
San Antonio. Headed by Tom Marley, 
foreman for young Nora Lane, the 
owner, they had been engaged in teach- 
ing a herd of young ponies to leap a 
circus hurdle. For the Lane outfit bred 
and trained horses for race-track and 

"Well," Tom Marley declared, 
"we've got 'em up to three-and a-half 
feet, and if wo keep at it we might have 
'em' a six-foot fence in a couple 
of weeks." 

"If we do," put in a lean fellow known 
as Peewee. "these horses will be worth 

January 28th, 1933. 


about fifteen hundred apiece, instead of 
seventy-five dollars." 

Tom nodded. He was a tall, strapping 
Westerner with black hair and a pair of 
fine, clear eyes — hard as a diamond 
physically, and straight as a pine in his 

"You're right, Peewee," he declared, 
"and I reckon we'd all like to see Miss 
Nora make a little money out of this 
ranch. What with one thing and another, 
she's had a pretty tough time of it." 

"Here comes Miss Nora now," 
another of the group interposed, "and 
by the looks of her face she seems all 
het-up about something" 

A girl was approaching the ranch on 
horseback. Her riding-kit accentuated 
the slenderness of her figure, and wisps 
of hair as golden as the sun peeped from 
under her hat. Strikingly beautiful 
was Nora Lane, and she was as coura- 
geous as she was lovely, for on the 
death of her father she had not hesi- 
tated to undertake the responsibility of 
carrying on the outfit, with Tom 
Marley's aid. 

Tom went forward to meet her, and, 
as she drew rein, he took hold of the 
bridle and looked at her anxiously. 

"Anything wrong. Nora?" he asked 

"Oh, Tom," she said, almost in tears, 
"I've just come from town. The bank's 
closed — on account of that robbery the 
other night. They can't pay out a 

"Gee. Nora," Tom murmured, "that's 
too bad." 

The girl made a despairing gesture. 
"Every dollar I had was in the Cattle- 
men's Bank," she told him. "The 
money to pay bills and wages — it's all 
gone. Oh, Tom, the whole thing is hope- 
less. Our stock is too young to try and 
sell yet, and I — I guess the boys will 
have to quit." 

"They won't quit," Tom assured her, 
but Nora only shook her head despon- 

"I'm just heartsick," she said, with 
a catch in her voice. "We've pulled 
through everything so far — and you, 
Tom, you've worked this ranch as though 
it were your own. I feel I'm letting you 
down, but this is the finish, and I'm 

Tom took her hand and pressed it 
affectionately. "No, you're not licked. 
Nora." he stated. "We'll pull out of 
this little difficulty, too. Listen, I'll go 
over and tell the boys all about it — and 
don't you worry." 

The young foreman made his way to 
where tho hands were standing in a 
solemn group, and he ran his eye over 
them before he spoke. 

"Well, boys," he said at length, 
"I've got some good news for you. 
You've had your last pay-day, because 
the bank's failed." 

The men exchanged glances, and then 
one of them offered a reply. " I don't 
allow that's gonna have much effect on 
me." ho drawled, "an' I figure I'm 
erivin' you tho sentiments of tho rest o' 
the boys when I say so. Wo can wait for 
our money." 

There was a chorus of approval, and 
Tom looked at them gratefully. 

"That's just what I told Miss Nora," 
he observed. 

"Wellj the bank failin' don't hurt me 
none." Peewee mentioned, with a 
chuckle. "I borrowed my wages in 
advance from Miss Nora last week, so 
I guess I owe the ranch money." 

Tom grinned, and clapped a hand on 
his shoulder. "If that's the case," he 
said, "I'm gonna take you with me 
where I'm goin'. You know I've learned 
to punch other things besides cows in 
my time, and I aim to try a little of it. 

Every Tuesday 

You can be my manager, Peewee. and 
the rest of you boys had better suck 
aiound the ranch and look after ^liss 

Accompanied by Peewee, Tom strode 
into the barn where a number of hams 
were hanging, and he started to pummel 
these with his fists. The next day !,c 
repeated tho process in a San Antonio 
gymnasium, but it was an orthodox 
punching-bag that felt the weight of his 
blows there, and, exactly two weeks 
from the date of leaving the Lane 
ranch, he was in the ring against a 
tough heavy-weight pugilist known as 
Kayo Kelly. 

The boys of the outfit were there in 
force, and, though they formed but a 
trivial section of the big crowd gathered 
in the stadium to witness the programme 
of events, they made their voices heard 
above all the others as the referee intro- 
duced Tom. 

Formalities over, the fighters danced 
from their corners at the clang of tho 
bell, and, after sparring around under 
the glare of the arc-lights, Kelly 
whipped in a wicked left that shook tho 
cowboy. But Tom parried the right 
with which the bruiser followed up his 
lead, and then flashed home a stinging 

Next instant the two men were bat- 
tling fiercely, and the smack of the gloves 
mingled with a din of yells as tho 
spectators waxed enthusiastic, the boys 
of the Lane ranch shouting themselves 
hoarse in their efforts to encourage their 

Tom had been amateur champion for 
the state of Texas a year before, but 
Kelly was a seasoned pug with plenty of 
experience, and he knew how to pile up 
the points. The first, second and third 
rounds were all his, and in the fourth ho 
loosed a regular bombardment of blows 
on tho cowboy's face and body. It was 
an attack that must have hammered tho 
resistance out of most men, but Tom 
stood up to it doggedly, though he was 
unsteady on his feet when the gong re- 
called both combatants to their corners 

Determination counterbalanced the 
punishment, that Kelly had handed out. 
Tom had a purpose in mind, and was 
resolved to achieve it. Ho wanted tho 
prize money to help Nora Lane out of 
her difficulties and he did not mean to 
leave that stadium without a cheque for 
the winning share of the purse. 

Under the directions of Peewee, Tom's 
seconds worked hard to brace him up in 
the one-minute interval, and, as the bell 
sounded again, the cowboy fairly leapt 
from his stool. Kelly sprang to meet 
him, confident and self-assured, reflect- 
ing smugly that he had allowed tho 
contest to proceed far enough, and 
might as. well finish it with a knock-out. 

He was still conjuring with that 
thought when a blow like a burro's kick 
landed on his chin and smote him to the 
floor. He was down for a count of seven, 
and, on rising, he tore at his opponent. 

Tom did not give back an inch before 
the fury of that onset, but fought his 
man toe to too and gradually assumed 
the offensive. He lacked the finesse and 
experience of Kelly, perhaps, but ho was 
strong as a lion, and Kelly had never 
known such punches as those which he 
now received. 

Tom's right bored into the bruiser's 
solar plexus and laid him low for 
another long count. When Kelly 
scrambled up his eyes were a little wild 
and glazed, and within thirty seconds 
he again left himself open for a knock- 
down blow. 

It was a right once more, and it 
caught Kelly on the jaw with terrifto 
impact. Up went the fighter's hands', 

Every Tuesday 

and he plunged to the bqaTds, while 
Tom withdrew to a neutral corner and 
matched the referee count him out. 

Tom left the ring amid a storm of 
cheering, and he was undergoing 
massage in his dressing-room when 
someone knocked on the door. Peewee 
answered it, and two men crossed the 
threshold — Milligan and McDennott. 

"Hello, Tom!" the police chief 

The cowboy boxer raised himself from 
the table on which he was lying, and 
as he saw Milligan he gave an exclama- 

Why, hallo, chief!'' he greeted. 
"How's everything?" 

"Fine," Milligan rejoined. "Oh. 
Mac, this is Tom Marley. He used to 
be my foreman when I owned a ranch. 
This is Detective-Lieutenant McDcrmott, 

Tom nodded to Milligan's colleague, 
and then the police chief spoke again. 

" I wasn't surprised at you winning 
to-night, Tom," he observed, "but 
whatever made you turn professional?" 

The cowboy smiled. 

"Aw, I'm not takin' up the fight 
game in earnest," he explained. "You 
see, there was a bank robbery, and I 
what money I had. So did Miss 
Lane, the little lady I work for — and I 
figured I'd put on the gloves and earn 
enough dough to let her carry on with 
thr- ranch until she can market some 
of her stock. The purse I won to-night 
will just about tide her over." 

Milligan exchanged a glance with 
McDermott, then looked at Tom once 

"That's funny," he murmured. "I 
was just thinking about that same bank 
robbery. You know, Tom, it was raided 
by three men who used to be interested 
in the prize fight game. We caught 'em 
and convicted 'em, but we haven't been 
able to trace tho money they stole. 
That's why we've come to you." 

"To me!" the cowboy echoed. "What 
good ran I do, chief?" 

" I've got a hunch that you might be 


able to help us, Tom," Milligan said 

Tom eyed him in a perplexed fashion 
for a moment, and then shook his head. 

"Oh, you want me to turn detective, 
eh?" he mused. "Well, there's nothin' 
doin', chief. I've been a lot of things 
in my time, but I don't think I'd be 
much use as a plain-clothes man." 

Milligan leaned towards him. 

"Could Mac and I have a word with 
you alone?" he suggested, and, with a 
shrug, Tom agreed. 

Peewee and the others who had been 
in the room with Kelly's conqueror 
prior to the arrival of the police officers 
were asked to leave, and when the door 
had closed behind them, Milligan 
addressed Tom in solemn tones. 

"You know, some five thousand 
people lost their life's savings in thtt 
bank," he stated, "and they're going to 
be stone-broke unless we recover the 

"I realise that." Torn acknowledged. 

"Well, when I saw you to-night in 
that ring, I had an idea," the chief con- 
tinued. "You're a fighter, Tom, and 
you have that much in common with 
the men who were nabbed for the rob- 
bery. If you were to fall in with my 
plan, you might kid 'em into thinking 
that you had a lot more in common 
with them. Let me put the hunch up 
to you. will you?" 

"All right," Tom granted. "There's 
no harm in hearin' it." 

Behind the Bars. 

MILLIGAN had used all his powers 
of persuasion with Tom, and it 
was in the hope of restoring the 
fortunes of all who had suffered in the 
bank crash that the cowboy had finally 
declared himself ready to fall in with 
the police chief's proposal. 

Thus, twenty-four hours after his 
victory over Kayo Kelly, Tom Marley 
appeared before the warden of the state 
penitentiary in convict attire. 

Ha was Bceempsnied by Milligan and 
McDermott, and, with an appraising 

glance in T om ' s direction, the police 
chief shot a question at the prison 

"Does he look the part, warden?" ho 

"He's a lifer, if ever I saw one," was 
the reply. 

Milligan turned to the cowboy. 

"Now you know what to do," Tom," 
he said. "You're supposed to be in 
here for murder in the first degree. The 
prison guards themselves will believe 
that, so take no one but the warden 
into your confidence." 

"I understand, chief," Tom mur- 

" We've arranged it so that you'll 
have a bunk in the cell occupied by 
Griffin, Weber and Cooper," Milligan 
went on. "Be one of them — make up 
to them and see if you can find out 
what they did with that money." 

"I'll do the best I can, chief," Tom 

"I know you will," Milligan rejoined. 
"Well, that's about all, I guess. Don't 
forget the part you're playing, and 
don't forget to report to the warden 
every Saturday." 

Tom nodded, and the warden there- 
upon touched a bell, the summons being 
answered within a few seconds by an 
officer of the prison. 

"Take this man down to the work- 
shop," the warden instructed his sub- 
ordinate. "Tell the guards to keep an 
eye on him. He's a tough customer." 

The officer looked at Tom, who now- 
stood lowering and truculent in the 
background, imitating with realistic 
effect the mien of a dangerous criminal. 

"This way," the officer said gruffly, 
and Tom strode out of the room with 

Alone with Milligan and McDermott 
in his office, the warden spoke earnestly. 
Well, it's your scheme, chief." he 
told Milligan. "But there's a fortune 
of two hundred thousand dollars at 
>takc, and I don't think I'd trust my- 
self with that amount — let alone a prize- 

January 28th, IMS. 


"That's just what I think," 
McDermott put in. "You're taking a 
big gamble on that man, chief. Sup- 
posing he plays in with those crooks." 

Milligan shook his head. 

"He wouldn't do that," he answered 
emphatically. "I've known Tom for 
years, and I'd trust him with anything." 

Tom in the meantime was being con- 
veyed through the dismal grey corridors 
of the prison, and presently he found 
himself in the workshop, a large room 
where over a hundred men were busily 
operating sewing-machines under the 
watchful eyes of the penitentiary guards. 

"Transfer Number 3286," Tom's 
escort informed one of the guards, "and 
put this fellow in his place. They say 
he's tough, so keep him under close 

"All right," said the guard, and, 
taking Tom by the arm, led him across 
to where an old " lag " was seated. 

Tom changed places with the other 
prisoner, and, settling himself in the 
chair that the latter had occupied, he 
looked curiously at the sewing-machine 
before him. His attitude was a mixture 
of sullenness and scorn. 

"Say, I don't know how to run one 
of these contraptions," he growled. 

"You'll soon learn how," the guard 
said curtly, and indicated a booklet 
lying on the table. 

Tom picked up the booklet, glanced 
through it contemptuously, and then 
sang out to a convict who sat imme- 
diately in front of him. 

"Hey, mug," he called, but ere he 
could utter another word the guard 
was back at his side. 

"Wait a minute," the officer rapped 
out. "You can't talk in here." 

" I told you I didn't know how to 
work this machine," Tom grunted. 

"You'll get your instructions out of 
your book," was the brusque reply, and, 
muttering under his breath, Tom again 
consulted the little volume. 

He started to operate the machine in 
leisurely style, and an hour passed by, 
an hour during which no word wa3 
spoken between the convicts. Nor did 
Tom commit any further breach of the 
prison regulations, but, glancing fre- 
quently at his determined face and tough 
frame, the guards gamed the impression 
that he would prove an awkward man 
to handle 

At the end of the hour the convicts 
were ordered to fall in, and, lining up 
with the others, Tom scanned them 
swiftly. They were a motley crowd, 
with varying degrees of villainy stamped 
upon their features, but he was inclined 
to believe that, scoundrels as they were, 
none looked more rebellious than him- 
self, the only honest man among them. 
And, secretly amused by his own air 
of being belligerent and averse to dis- 
cipline, he was determined to emphasise 
these characteristics at every oppor- 

The prisoners were marched from the 
workshop to their quarters, and, each 
time a cell door was opened four of 
the company trooped inside. At length 
only Tom and three others remained, 
and, from photographs that had been 
shown to him by Milligan, the cowboy 
recognised his companions as Griffin, 
Cooper and Weber. 

Matters were working out as Mil- 
ligan had intended, and Tom was pushed 
into a cell with the bank robbers. 
There were four bunks in the drab com- 
partment, and, while a guard locked the 
door, Griffin and his confederates 
climbed on to their rude pallets, Cooper 
and Weber ascending to the two upper 
"That's yours there," Griffin told 
January 28th. 1W3. 


Tom, indicating the bed opposite his 

Tom nodded, and then looked at his 
resting-place with a sneer. Presently 
Griffin spoke again. 

"How long are you in for?" he 

"From now on," Tom answered 

Spike Weber leaned down from his 
"Croakin' job, eh?" he observed. 
"Well, what do they give you a life 
sentence for?" Tom retorted. "But 
what are you fellers in for, anyway?" 
It was Griffin who answered him, eye- 
ing him shrewdly as he did so. 

"We're in here for nothing," he 
stated. "We were pinched for a job we 
didn't do." 
Tom laughed hoarsely. 
"They tell jokes in the penitentiary, 
do they?" he scoffed. 

There was a silence, and then Tom'6 
glance came to rest on a photograph 
that was pasted on the wall above Ben 
Cooper's bunk. It was a picture of 
Cooper himself, in boxing kit, and Tom 
pretended an immediate interest. 

" Say, you used to be in the fightin' 
game, eh?" he commented. 

"Sure," the ex-heavy rejoined. "Big 
Ben Cooper — in the flesh." 

"Me, too," put in Spike. "Weber's 
the name — the fastest bantam that ever 
put foot inside a ring." 

"Huh!" Tom grunted reminiscentiy. 
"I used to be in the fight racket 

"Is that so?" Ben Cooper said. 
"What's your monicker?" 
"Tom Marley," the cowboy replied. 
Big Ben thought for a moment, and 
then, with a shrug of the shoulders, 
offered his hand. 

"Never heard of you, but 1 guess 
you're all right," he said. "Shake." 

Thus was Tom Marley introduced to 
the three criminals with whom he was 
to consort, and, during the course of 
the next few days, he had plenty of op- 
portunity to promote the acquaintance. 
At the same time he was careful to 
avoid rousing their suspicions by broach- 
ing the subject of the bank robbery — 
nor did they attempt to discuss it with 
him, and he speedily realised that his 
task was likely to be a difficult one. 

But, unbeknown to Tom, there was 
a plan afoot which was to precipitate 
him into a desperate partnership with 
Griffin and his two associates, and 
which was to result in a series of breath- 
less adventures. 

Tom might have gained an inkling of 
that plan had he been close to Doc 
Griffin when the latter reported for duty 
at the washing-room, about a month 
after the cowboy's arrival at the 

Griffin relieved a prisoner who was 
working next to Ben Cooper, and, bend- 
ing over a tub that was filled with 
clothes and soapsuds, the Doc waited his 
chance to exchange a whispered word 
or two with his accomplice. 

A guard was near by, and he lingered 
close to Griffin for a spell. But as soon 
as the officer moved away, the Doc spoke 
to Big Ben under his breath. 
"Did you get it?" he asked. 
Big Ben was scrubbing laboriously, 
and, without offering any audible 
response, he pulled a bundle of wet 
clothes out of the water and revealed 
to Griffin's intent gaze the hilt of a 

The Doc's eyes gleamed with satis- 
faction, and then he gave a start as he 
realised that the guard was approach- 
ing again. 
"Hide it — quick!" he hissed. 

Every Tuesday 

Cooper concealed the dagger in the 
folds of the garments once more, and 
the prison officer passed by without sus- 
pecting the presence of the weapon. 

"Then we're all set for to-night," 
Griffin whispered, when the guard was 
out of earshot. 

Spike Weber was on the other side 
of Griffin, and, seeing that the Doc and 
Big Ben were in conversation, he leaned 
towards therh. 

"Say, are youse guys holdin' any- 
thing back from me?" he wanted to 

"Of course we're not," Griffin re- 
torted. "Ben's got the knife that was 
smuggled in to us, and I was just telliu' 
him that to-night's the big night." 

Tom was at work farther along the 
line, a truculent "prisoner" who had 
thoroughly lived up to his reputation of 
being a tough customer, for he had 
already shown a marked contempt for 
the penitentiary regulations, and had 
more than once been involved in a 
violent scene with the officers. 

Towards evening, when the order came 
to fall in, Tom sat down on a bench, 
and, while the other convicts formed up 
in double line, the cowboy remained 
where he was until one of the guards 
caught sight of him. 

" Hey, you," the officer called, " fall 
in !" 

Tom paid no heed, and the guard 
strode towards him angrily. 

"Come on, you heard what I said!" 
he ground out, seizing Tom by the 
shoulder. "Get up on your feet and 
take your place among the rest of the 
men." ' 

He pulled Tom from the bench and 
attempted to propel him towards the 
rest of the prisoners, who were all agog 
with interest. But the cowboy offered 
resistance as well as resentment. 

"Say, don't go pushin' mo around," 
ho challenged harshly. 
The guard gripped him more firmly. 
"You want me to take you to the 
warden's office like I did before, eh':" 
he snapped. "All right, come on." 

He tried to drag Tom from the wash- 
house, and the cowboy promptly braced 
himself for action. 

"Hey, keep your hands off me!" he 
shouted, -nd with the words he struck 
the guard fair and square in the jaw. 

He hated to do it, but had to play up 
to his role as a hard-bitten killer, and 
the punch had plenty of force behind it. 
Down went the officer, and Tom was 
standing over him in a threatening atti- 
tude when two or three of the other 
guards came running up. 

A scuffle ensued, and the remainder 
of the convicts watched in awe, while; 
those officers who were not involved in 
the struggle kept them under strict 

"Thi6 Marley's a tough mug all 
right, ain't he?" Spike Weber said to 
Doc Griffin in a muttered aside. 

The scuffle continued furiously, hut 
Tom finally suffered himself to be hauled 
out of the wash-house and led away to 
the warden's office. Scowling, he was 
forced into the room occupied by the 
head of the prison, and one of the guards 
breathlessly explained the situation. 

"Oh, so you've been breaking the rules 
again, Marley," the warden said with an 
assumed sternness of tone. 

"Yes," Tom answered savagely, "ami 
I'll break 6ome of these birds' necks if 
they don't keep their mitts off me." 

"It's the third time this has hap- 
pened, warden," one of the guards put 
in. "I think he needs a lesson." 

The warden appeared to consider for 
a moment, and then he signed to the 
officers to release Tom. 

Every Tuesday 

"You leave him alone with me." he 
said, and the guards filed out of the 

The door had no 60oner closed behind 
tho officers than Tom's manner changed, 
and, seating himself on the corner of 
the warden's desk, he spoke apolo- 

"I'm Sorry I'm causin' the boys all 
this trouble," he declared, ''but I had 
instructions to report to you every Satur- 
day, you know. And, besides, I've got 
a reputation to keep up." 

"I know," the warden answered with 
a smile. "But are you any closer to 
what we're after?" 

"Well, those three cell-mates o' mine 
think I'm a pretty tough nut," Tom 
stated, "and they're gettin' more 
friendly every day." 

The warden pursed his lips. 

"There's a rumour gointr round that 
Griffin and his accomplices arc planning 
to make a gaol break," he observed. 
"Do you know anything about it?" 

"Why, no," Tom replied, "and I 
haTdly think there can be any truth in 
that rumour, 6ir. You 6ce. they couldn't 
do anything without taking me into it 
— as I'm in the same cell as them." 

" Well, if you hear anything, let me 
know, will you?" the head of the prison 

"You bet I will," Tom assured him. 
and the warden then rang a bell and 
turned him over to the guards again. 

"I've given this man fair warning," 
he told the officers. " He knows what 
will happen to him if wo have any more 
of his tantrums, and I don't think you 
should have further trouble with him. 
Take him back to his cell." 


ONCE again in his cell. Tom retired 
to his bunk after roll-call, and it 
CM not long before he was 
drowsing. Griffin, Weber, and Big Ben 

< rjr,[ ,r r \: ■ 'etched out on their 

but they had no intention of slcep- 


ing. and lay awake until the night was 
well advanced. 

The sound of snoring was coming from 
most of the cells when Griffin slipped 
out of his bunk and stole to the door. 
A few yards away two guards wero in 
conversation, and the Doc heard the 
murmur of their voices a6 they 6tood 
talking in the corridor. No one else was 
in sight beyond the cell-door. 

Griffin moved back towards his bunk, 
and, winking at Big Ben and Spike, he 
suddenly dropped to the floor and started 
to give an impression of a man in mortal 
agony, writhing from side to side, and 
groaning dismally. 

"Oh, my stomach, my stomach!" he 
wailed. " Fetch a doctor — somebody 
get me a doctor !" 

A light sleeper, Tom was awakened 
by the first outburst of moans, and. as 
he saw Griffin rolling on the floor, he 
quickly scrambled from his bunk and 
stooped to examine him. 

Big Ben and Spike were now sitting 
up, and the latter called to Tom. 

"What's the matter with Doc?" he 
asked innocently. 

Not for a moment did Tom suspect 
that Griffin's sickness was a mere sham, 
and he was completely taken in by the 
man's pretence. 

"I don't know what's wrong with him, 
but he's in a pretty bad way," he 

"Oh, my 6tomach!" the Doc groaned. 
" My stomach !" 

The guards had heard his cries, and 
they came hurrying to tho door. It was 
quite light in the corridor, but within 
tho cell gloom prevailed, and it was only 
by peering through the bars intently 
that the officers wore able to see any- 
thing of what was going on. 

"What's the trouble in there?" one 
of them 6ang out. 

. "Say, this feller's sick," Tom an- 
swered, to the accompaniment of 
Griffin's moans. "Get the doctor to 

"Are you sure he's not stallin'?" the 
other guard muttered dubiously. 

"No, he isn't stallin'," Tom rejoined. 
with conviction. "He's sick right 

'' You go in and look him over, 
O'Reilly," the first guard 6aid to his 
comrade. "I'll bring the doctor." 

He hurried off, and the remaining 
officer let himself into the cell, locked 
the door again, and then moved to 
where Griffin lay. 

"Come on, get up into your bunk." 
he began, bending over the prostrate 
man and taking him by one arm. 

Up above him. Big Ben Cooper drew 
the fatal dagger from his shirt, and. 
leaning from his bed, plunged it deep 
between the guard's shoulder-blades. 
With a strangled sob the officer pitched 
forward, and Doc Griffin instantly 
scrambled to his feet. 

Tom had recoiled, amazed and horri- 
fied by the unexpected outrage, and he 
was still staring blankly at the body of 
the guard when Griffin snatched the 
fallen officer's pistol. 

"Are you with us?" the Doc rapped 
out, pointing the weapon at the cow- 
boy's heart. 

Tom had to think fast. The crooks 
were desperate, and all he could gain 
by attempting to raise the alarm would 
be a bullet in his breast, whereas if he 
feigned to play along with them he 
might find out what Police Chief Milli- 
gan wanted to know— the whereabouts 
of the funds stolen from the Cattlemen's 

"Why. sure I'm with you," Tom said 

"All right, then." Griffin jerked. 
"Take the keys off that guard. We're 

Tom obeyed, and a few .seconds later 
he and his cell-mates were in the cor- 
ridor. They stole along to the end of 
it, and, suddenly Coming upon a guard 
I at a table, they overpowered him 
before ho could utter a cry, Griffir. 

11 Never heard of you, but I guess 

you're all right," said Big Ben. 

" Shake ! " 

January 28th, 1033. 


stunning him by a blow with the butt 
or the revolver. 

The convicts hurried on, but by the 
time they reached the prison yard their 
escape from the cell had been dis- 
covered. There was a shrill blast on a 
whistle, and it was followed by the eerie 
wail of a siren sounding the general 

Tom and his cell-mates were going 
over the prison wall, and they dropped 
to the ground beyond it. They were 
on free soil, and in front of them was 
a strip of open prairie — much too open 
for their liking, for all at once the beam 
of a searchlight began to sweep hither 
and thither from a turret of the peni- 

The ray showed them a mass of tall 
grass and thickets about a hundred 
yards ahead. They pushed on in hot 
haste, but before they could gain cover 
the beam came to rest on their flying 
figures, and immediately a machine-gun 
chattered viciously from the parapet of 
the wall, and it was accompanied by a 
desultory volley of rifle-fire. 

The bullets sang around the escaping 
convicts, and Spike Weber gave a yelp 
as one grazed his neck. But, miracul- 
ously it seemed, none of the fugitives 
was hurt, and they dived into the under- 
brush, marvelling over the fact that the 
rain of death had left them unscathed. 

Even now they were still in danger, 
and leaden slugs clipped the foliage 
about them. Yet they took no injury, 
and pushed on and on, striking deeper 
into the brush. 

Back at the penitentiary, the warden 
was telephoning to Police Headquarters 
from his office, and as he was connected 
with Milligan's room he 6poke in a voice 
that trembled with fury and concern. 

"Is that you, chief?" he demanded. 

"No, it's McDermott this end," came 
the answer. "Milligan's at his home. 
Why, is anything wrong?" 

"Plenty," the warden ground out. 
"When you see Milligan, tell him from 
me that the next time he gets one of 
his confounded ideas he'd better try it 
on someone else, for he won't find me 
agreeing to them any more." 

"What do you mean?" McDermott 
asked. "Explain yourself, man!" 

"'That prize-fighter of his," the 
warden blurted. "The one he sent up 
here to get in with that bank mob ! 
He's just taken them over the wall, after 
killing one of my guards." 

"No!" breathed McDermott. 

"I'm telling you," the warden grated. 
"And you'd better get your patrolmen 
out if we're going to recapture them. 
I can't guarantee that we'll pick them 
up ourselves." 

Hunted ! 

THE newspapers had word of the 
escape in an hour or two, and next 
morning the streets of San Antonio 
were echoing to the shouts of the boys 
who were selling them. 

"Extra! Extra! All about the prison 
murder! Convicts break gaol!" 

Flamboyant headlines summarised the 
affair, and pictures of Tom, Griffin, 
' 'ooper and Weber appeared underneath 






Later that same day, while taking 
his best girl for a joy-ride in an open 
ear, a young man from San Antonio 
• spied the figure of a man lying in the 
middle of a quiet country road. 

January 28th, 1933. 


"Say, look at that," he exclaimed. 
"There must have been an accident." 

He pulled up within a few yards of 
the body, and, accompanied by the girl, 
climbed out of the auto and stooped to 
examine the prone form. 

"Is he dead?" the girl asked shakily. 

Before the young man could offer any 
reply, three figures darted from a group 
of trees by the roadside. They were 
Tom, Griffin and Ben, and, even as they 
appeared, the body on the trail sprang 
to life and revealed itself as that of 
Spike Weber. 

Griffin was still carrying the gun that 
he had taken from the dead guard, and 
he threatened the young man and his 
sweetheart. These had already stepped 
back in alarm at sight of the convicts, 
and they stood mute while the four 
fugitives from justice climbed into the 

Tom took the wheel, and a moment 
later he had started up the auto and 
was driving along the road. He fol- 
lowed it southward through mountainous 
country, and had reached a fork ten 
miles from the spot where the car had 
been commandeered, when Griffin laid 
a hand on his arm. 

"Swing off this way," the Doc 
ordered. "Go on — turn off to the 

" But the left fork is the road to the 
Border," Tom declared. 

"That's right," put in Spike. "Let's 
get across into Mexico, and we'll be 
safe there. Aw, Ben, what did you want 
to kill that guard for ? I never did like 
killin' " 

"Shut up!" Griffin interrupted. 
"We're not crossin' the Border yet. 
I've got something to dig up before I 
pull out of the U.S." 

A glint appeared in Tom's eyes. 
Without a doubt be was referring to 
the funds of the Cattlemen's Bank, and 
the misjudged cowboy had high hopes 
of being amply rewarded for the risks 
he was running, rewarded by the re- 
covery of a sum that represented the 
savings of a small army of depositors. 

"All right, Griffin," Tom said. "Have 
it > our own way." 

He swerved on to the fork the Doc 
had indicated, and about five minutes 
later two car-ioads of police drew up at 
that junction. 

"Accordin' to the young feller whose 
car they pinched, they were headed due 
south," a plain-clothes man declared. 
"Now, that's the way to the Border, 
but these tracks we've been followin' 
take the right-hand fork." 

"Maybe they've cut back into the 
hills to try an' throw us off the scent," 
another officer suggested. 

"That's more than likely," the first 
rejoined. "Come on, we'll follow the 

The police ears left the main road, and 
sped along a mountain trail that was 
flanked on one side by a high cliff, and 
on the other by a gulch that was choked 
with brushwood. They had proceeded 
for about a mile when, sweeping round 
a sharp bend, they espied their quarry 
ahead of them. 

Spike and Big Ben were in the back 
of the fugitive auto, and it was the ex- 
bantam who first realised that they were 
being pursued. 

"Doc," ho panted, "Doc, the cops 
are after us!" 

Griffin looked round, saw t lie police 
cars and rapped out a command to 

"Step on it, Marlcy," he ordered, 
"hard as you can !" 

Tom crammed his foot on the ac- 
celerator, and the automobile shot for- 
ward at an increased speed, a speed that 

cars gave 
but Tom 
auto with 

Every Tuesday 

made the bank robbers catch their 
breath as the cowboy skidded the 
vehicle around the dangerous curves in 
the road. 

The drivers of the police 
chase in hazardous style, 
handled the commandeered 
mad recklessness, and its 
tyres raked up the dust in clouds as he 
wrenched it round the corners. 

"Careful, Marley!" Spike screamed 
from the back, as the tourer came within 
an ace of plunging from the road. 

Tom was steering it round a sharp 
bend, and the whole car seemed to be 
tugging in an effort to leave the trail, 
but the cowboy forced it out of the side- 
slip and drove fiercely along half a mile 
of straight. 

The police cars swung after them, 
and their occupants opened fire with 
rifle and revolver, the shots zipping 
about the heads of the convicts. Never 
had the fugitives experienced so fear- 
some a ride, and Spike Weber was numb 
with terror when the end of the straight 
was reached. 

Tom stormed into another bend, 
swerved to the wrong side of the road, 
and came face to face with a couple 
of heavy lorries. There was a moment 
of awful suspense, and Griffin, Spike and 
Ben rose to their feet as one man. But 
the drivers of the lorries pulled aside, 
and there was just room for Tom to 
forge through. 

Cursing, the lorry drivers drew their 
lumbering vehicles to a standstill in. a 
fashion that completely blocked , the 
trail, and they were shouting angrily 
when the police cars turned the corner. 

The officers of the law were forced to 
halt, and the man at the wheel of the 
first car stood up with chagrin written 
on his face. 

"Hey, what's the idea of sticking 
those trucks right across the road?" ■he 

"What do you expect when some 
crazy fools in a car come around the 
bend at fifty miles an hour?" one of 
the lorry-drivers retorted savagely. 

"All right, all right!" the officer 
jerked in an impatient tone. "Pull to 
one side as quick as you can. We're 
after those birds!" 

Tom was heading for a curve three 
hundred yards away, and it was one 
that he could not negotiate at the 
furious pace he was setting. From the 
back seat Spike and Big Ben seemed 
to see the edge of the road switch close, 
and the sight of the ravine's steep em- 
bankment turned them dizzy. 

"Look out!" roared the voice of Doc 
Griffin. "She's going over!" 

They were round the bend, but the 
auto was hurtling straight for the brink 
of the cliff. Griffin kicked open the door 
and jumped for his life. Ben and Spike 
followed suit, and Tom was the last 
to leap, tumbling to the surface of the 
trail as the car plunged into space. 

The convicts picked themselves up, 
and saw the automobile bounding down 
the embankment to finish up among the 
thickets, a mass of smoking scrap-iron. 
Each of the four men drew a breath, 
thankful that he had escaped with 
nothing worse than bruises, and then 
Spike gave a plaintive whine. 

"Say, what did you want to drive it 
over there for, Marley?" he prote 

"I didn't drive it over, you sap," 
Tom answered. "It ran over." 

Criffin pointed to the slope on the 
left-hand side of the road. 

"Come on," he panted, "let's get up 
the hill and run for it." 

They started the ascent, scrambling 
through rocks and scrub, and they were 
out of sight when the police cars finally 

Every Tuesday 

appeared on the scene after the delay 
occasioned by the lorries. 

The officers discerned the wreckage in 
the gulch the moment they came round 
the bend, and the autos were brought 
to a standstill. 

"They must've crashed," a uniformed 
policeman declared. "Look, if we 
follow the road we can drive down into 
the ravine." 

"All right," a plain-clothes man put 
in. "You take a couple of the boys 
and go down the slope, just in case any 
of those birds have got enough breath 
fei crawl away. We'll meet you at the 
wreck with the cars." 

The instructions were carried out, and 
the three who descended on foot were 
soon beside the remains of the auto that 
had leapt the brink of the gulch. But 
a rapid search of the vicinity told them 
that the former occupants of the vehicle 
were not there. 

"We've been tricked." one of the 
officers said. "They've ditched the 
< nr and taken to the heart of the hills. 
We'll be lucky if we can pick up their 
trail now." 

A Brush With the Law. 

THAT same night Tom and his com- 
panions were still at liberty, and 
within sight of a small town which 
the cowboy knew well — a town of twink- 
ling lights, nestling close to the foot of 
a lofty mountain. 

Tom had figured out the situation, and 
was eager that Gr.ffin and his accomplices 
should remain at large — until such a 
time as the hiding-place of their loot 
had been disclo 
Therefore h c w as 
ready to put all his 
resourcefulness at their 
Listen, you fellers," 
Jie stated, as the four 
of them skulked in the 
got to 
get somo clothes, and 
there's an o ^fitter's in 
that town." 

Big Ben groaned 
lugubriously. He was 
wearied and footsore 
with tramping through 
the hills. 

"Can't you fin 

thing else to do before 

we get a rest?" he 

ided. "If you 

hadn't cracked up tin>t 

car " 

it up!" Doc 

Griflin interposed 

harshly. "M;irley is 

I new 

So long .1 


liable to be 

h man, 

i in the 

1 • ■> on, Marley, 

guided them 
into the town and 

that he had in mind. 
The ll i 

and the shops wen- 
shut, but it dirl noi 
take the convicts long 
to fr.r rv into 

the clothier's establish- 
mat. Spike [licking 
tho lock of the back 

'I pan to select 

suita for themselves. 

and were engaged in 

ng a complete 

:'■ when Griffin 

•d an exclamation. Tom raced in 


"Quiet!" he breathed. "Someone 
commg along the street!" 

Footsteps were indeed audible, and, as 
the convicts ducked down, the stalwart 
figure of a police-officer moved past the 
plate-glass window of the premises. 
Only when he had gone by did Tom and 
his companions resume their activities, 
and soon they were rigged out more or 
less to their satisfaction. 

Tom had chosen a cowboy outfit, and 
only lacked a hat. But there was a 
sombrero on a dummy in the window, 
and, stepping close to the model, Tom 
was in the very act of removing its 
head-gear when he saw the police-officer 
approaching once more. 

"Look out!" Tom hissed to his three 
associates. "The law again!" 

Griffin, Spike and Ben were behind 
the counter and promptly dropped out 
of sight. But Tom had no time to take 
cover, for the patrolman was already 
abreast of the shop-window. 

Tom stood rigid as the officer drew 
level, and he tried to look like the 
other dummies in the window. But the 
policeman chanced to glance through 
the plate-glass, and, though the cowboy 
never blinked an eyelid, the represen- 
tative of the law was not satisfied. 

He scrutinised Tom for fully a minute, 
and then passed on with a shrug of the 
shoulders. His suspicions were by no 
means allayed, however, for, poor as 
the light was, he was certain that the 
figure on whom his attention had been 
concentrated was no model. 

Once beyond the window, he slipped 
into an alley and worked his way round 


to the back of the clothier's premises. 
When he found the rear door unlocked, 
he was sure that he was on no false 
scent, and, drawing a revolver, he 
stepped across the threshold. 

In the meantime Tom had joined the 
other convicts behind the counter, and 
all four men saw the police-officer tho 
instant he entered the establishment. 
They lurked in the shadows while tho 
majestic figure of the law strode on to 
the window and thrust his gun into the 
back of one of the dummies. 

"Stick 'em up!" the officer com- 
manded hoarsely, and then, discovering 
that he was addressing an effigy, he 
repeated the order to another model. 

Tom nudged his companions, and, one 
by one, the quartet stole out tlirough 
the back door. Then they took to their 
heels, and in the space of two or three 
minutes they were several streets away. 
At the other end of the town they saw 
a horse and buggy standing outside a 
timber building, and they piled into the 
vehicle, Tom taking up the reins and 
driving on into the hills. It was a 
country that was thoroughly familiar to, and he chose a course where only 
beaten track? existed, and where his 
associates were severely jolted by tho 
rough going. 

Noon of the next day found them not 
far from the territory where Tom had 
earned his livelihood as foreman for 
Nora Lane, and, when he suddenly drew 
the buggy to a standstill, Griffin looked 
at him with a frown. 

'' What are you stoppiii' here for?" ho 
wanted to know. 

pursuit of the man. Once a flaming trunk crashed within a few feet of him. 

January 28th, 1983. 


" Well, I reckon we're liable to have 
a sheriff on our trail before long," Tom 
opined, "and we won't be able to keep 
ahead of him with this outfit, especially 
on these bad roads. What we need are 

" And where are wo gonna get them ?" 
Doc Griffin demanded. 

"I know where to get 'em," Tom 
rejoined. " I used to work in this coun- 
try once. Listen, you 6tay here, and 
I'll see what I can do." 

He left the three crooks, and set out 
on foot for the Lane ranch, and, if 
Griffin and his confederates had doubted 
tho wisdom of his move, they might 
have changed their views had they been 
anywhere near a certain deputy-6heriff 
who was nailing copies of a sensational 
bulletin to certain vantage points some 
distance to the north. 

The deputy was pinning one of the 
bills to the trunk of a tree when a lone 
cowboy came across him. 

"Hallo, deputy," the cowboy ex- 
claimed, reining up as he saw the 
sheriff's officer, " what's that you're 
tixin' there 1" 

"Oh, howdy, Larkin?" the deputy 
greeted. " C'mon over and take a look 
at these birds. You might earn yourself 
five thousand bucks." 

The cowboy drew nearer, and saw the 
pictures of four men on the notice — 
Tom, Griffin, Spike Weber, and Ben 
Cooper. Underneath was the following 
statement : 

$5,000 REWARD 

For the Capture, Dead or Alive, 

of these four men. 

"They're a fine-lookin' bunch," Larkin 
commented grimly. 

" Yeah, an' I reckon they're in this 
part of the country," the deputy 
observed. "A clothing store irr* Red- 
wood was raided last night, and their 
cast-off pri!fc>n duds were found aban- 
doned there. Then it appears they took 
a buckboard from outside Carney's 

" Well, I could sure U6e that five thou- 
sand," Larkin declared. "I'm headed 
for the Lane outfit. Got business with 
ths gal that runs it. I'll keep my eyes 
peeled on tho way." 

He parted company with the deputy, 
and about an hour and a half later he 
sighted his destination. It was as he 
was approaching the Lane outfit that he 
saw a stealthy figure moving towards 
a, barn, and, as he recognised Tom 
Marley, he pulled up abruptly. 

Larkin dismounted, watched Tom 
enter the barn, and then ran forward 
as fast as his legs could carry him. He 
had no sooner reached the door of the 
building than he closed it quietly and 
turned a key in the lock. 

Tom had passed through the barn and 
out into a corral that was attached to it. 
There was no gate to the corral, the 
normal exit being by way of the barn, 
and. though there were several horses 
in the enclosure, Larkin wa6 pretty sure 
that they could not jump the six-foot 

A Close Call. 

AN automobile had drawn up before 
the Lane ranch-house, and it was 
occupied by a group of plain- 
clothes men from San Antonio. One of 
them was Detective-Lieutenant McDor- 
mott, and, stepping out of the car, he 
took off his hat and addressed a girl 
who had appeared on the veranda of 
tho dwelling. 

" Are you Miss Lane 1" ho asked. 

"Yes," the girl replied. "Is there 
anything I can do for you ?" 

McDermott nodded grimly. 

•"You can tell me if you've seen Tom 

January 28th, 1933. 


Marley since tie broke gaol," he stated. 

Nora frowned, and then shook her 
head. There was a troubled expression 
on her pretty face. 

"No, I haven't seen Tom since he left 
for San Antonio to take up prize-fight- 
ing," she answered. " He sent me the 
money that he won — so that I could 
carry on in business." 

" He used to work for you, didn't 
he?" McDermott commented. "And he 
thought a great deal of you, too, I 

" What's that to you 1" Nora retorted, 
somewhat resentfully. 

The detective-lieutenant made an im- 
patient gesture. 

"Now, Miss Lane," he protested, "it's 
no use beating about the bush. We're 
from headquarters, and we've a strong 
hunch that Marley is coming here to see 
you, so we want you to help us get hold 
of him." 

"Tom's not a criminal!" Nora cried. 

"No?" McDermott ground out. 
" That's what the chief thought when he 
put him in the penitentiary to get 
acquainted with the men who robbed 
the Cattlemen's Bank." 

"What was the idea of that?" the girl 

McDermott laughed mirthlessly. 

"The chief figured that Marley might 
be able to find out where they'd hidden 
tho money," he explained. " But the 
reward that the chief promised him 
wasn't big enough for Marley, so he 
switched over to the crooks' side for a 
share in the two hundred thousand 
dollars they'd cached. Why, it was 
Marley who framed the break and 
helped them get away from gaol." 

"I don't believe it!" Nora said em- 

"It's a fact," McDermott insisted. 
"Just four hours before the escape. 
Marley was in the warden'6 office, and 
he swore that there was no truth in the 
rumour that they were planning to go 
over the wall. That night he was the 
man who called the guard into the cell — 
to be stabbed in the back !" 

"I can't believe that of Tom Marley," 
Nora began, but before she could say 
more a man in cowboy rig came running 
from the direction of the barn. 

Ho was Larkin, and, eager to secure 
the reward, he dashed up to McDermott 
and his colleagues. 

"Hey, you fellers," he gasped, "Tom 
Marley's in the corral. I just locked the 
barn door on him, and he can't get out. 
This way." 

McDermott and his men followed 
Larkin round to the back of the ranch- 
house, and a moment later they espied 
Tom. He had saddled four broncs, and 
was astride one of them when he saw 
the approaching officers. 

"It's Marley all right," roared 
McDermott. "Come on!" 

Tom realised that there was no time 
to lose, and that his only chance of 
escape was on horseback. Two months 
ago there had not been a pony on the 
Lane outfit that had been able to jump 
more than three-feet-six, but he was 
hoping that the mounts had been kept in 
training during his absence. 

He had already discovered, that the 
barn door was locked, and, gathering 
up the reins of the broncs, he galloped 
them straight for the fencing of the 
corral. They leapt from the ground 
in unison, and over they went without 
a hitch — to the confusion of Larkin and 
the police officrs. 

McDermott and his colleagues pulled 
out their revolvers and fired at the 
horseman, but their aim was wild, and 
ho spurred round a corner of the barn 
without a scratch, and when the rcpre- 

Every Tuesday 

sentatives of the law turned the angle 
of the building they had gained only 
a mere glimpse of him as he vanished 
into the brush. 

McDermott doubled back to the 
ranch-house, and, without the formality 
of asking permission, he entered the 
dwelling and picked up the telephone. 
He was soon in touch with the sheriff 
of the county, and spoke to him rapidly 
over the wire. 

"Detective-Lieutenant McDermott 
here," he jerked. "I'm on the Lane 
ranch. Tom Marley's just been here. 
He took some horses and got away from 
us, and we can't follow him through 
the brush by car. You'd better get a 
posse mounted right away " 

Nora was standing on the threshold, 
but, as she heard McDermott 'phoning 
his instructions, she slipped out of the 
house. Knowing the country as she did, 
she was well aware that it was possible 
to circle the bush by automobile, and in 
the space of a few seconds she had 
started up her own roadster and was 
driving over the rough ground. 

The tract of the brush extended for 
several miles, but she made the detour 
in record time and was on the north side 
of the thickets when she distinguished 
Tom and his fellow-convicts in a hollow. 
They could have galloped off and taken 
a course where no auto could possibly 
have travelled, but, seeing that they had 
only a girl to deal with, Griffin and 
his confederates betrayed no alarm, and 
stood their ground. 

Nora brought the car to standstill on 
the rim of the hollow, and, climbing out 
of the vehicle, hurried down the slmpe. 
She brushed past Griffin, Spike l^id 
Ben, and confronted Tom. 

"I was hoping to find you," she 
gasped. "I wanted to warn you that 
the sheriff and a posse will soon be 
on your trail." 

Tom was secretly dismayed by her 
presence, for he was anxious to k#ep 
up his pretence of his being hand-in- 
glove with the three bank robbers, and 
her appearance on the scene could not 
have been more inopportune. He 
resolved to risk losing her affection and 
respect by a display of truculence, 
assuring himself that he could explain 
everything later. 

I don't need no warning," he told 
her gruffly. "I can take care of my- 

"But you can't get away, Tom," 
Nora protested. " Give yourself up — 
it's your only chance." 

Tom shook his head with a stubborn 
air. "I'm not givin' myself up, he 
growled. "I've thrown in with these 
boys and I'm gonna stick with 'em. 
They're my pals." 

Nora stared at him in bewilderment. 
She could hardly believe her cars — 
could scarcely credit the vast change that 
seemed to have come over her friend 
and foreman. 

"Tom, I don't understand," she 
faltered, with a glance at his rascally 

" Well, I got tired workin' for 
nothin'," Tom snapped "and when I 
saw a chance of makin' a little easy 
money I took advantage of it — if you 
know what I mean " 

Griffin moved closer at that moment, 
and spoke to the cowboy suavely, 
smiling crookedly the while. 

"What's the matter, Tom?" he 
inquired. "Who's your little lady 

"She's no friend o' mine," was the 
answer. "She's just a girl that I knew 
when I was in this country here. Slie 
camo to warn us that the sheriff's after 

(Continued on page 12.) 

Every Tuesday 



m!! 133 I HI I 


mven FREE 


for Plates also FREE 
with the first of these 
grand gifts/ 

January 28tb, 1888. 



(Continued from page 10.) 

Doc Griffin leered at Nora. "If that's 
the case," he observed, "she'll have to 
come along with us — because she might 
turn around and put Mr. Sheriff on 
our track all the quicker. But don't 
you worry, miss," he added, "we'lj 
make your stay as comfortable as pos- 

Nora recoiled, but Griffin caught her 
by the wrist, and although was Tom 
sorely tempted to strike him down, he 
held himself in check. 

"Tom," the girl cried, "Tom Marley, 
you're not going to let them take me, 
are you?" 

"I've got nothing to do with it," 
the cowboy muttered. You shouldn't 
have come here, anyway. Say, Griffin, 
we'd better get started." 

"What about takin' the girl's car?" 
Spike Weber put in hopefully, for he 
had no experience of horse-riding. 

Tom shook his head. "A car won't be 
any use to us the way we're goin'," he 
stated. "We've got to keep away from 

" Listen, Marley," Griffin interposed, 
"I'm leadin' this outfit from now on. 
But you're right about the car. Horses 
will suit us better, so let's hit the saddle. 
The girl can share your pony." 

The group mounted, Nora being forced 
to climb up beside Tom, and a start was 
made in a northerly direction. To the 
discomfort of Spike Weber, Griffin 
set a smart pace, and ere many hours 
had elapsed the fugitives were in that 
great forest whero the bank funds had 
been concealed. 

A halt was called not far from the 
edge of the woods, and, a fire being 
kindled, the party made a meal with 
>-ome food that Ben Cooper had stolen 
from a farmhouse the previous day. 
Nora refused to eat, and sat brooding 
over Tom's apparent villainy while the 
four men satisfied their appetites, and 
she was reflecting upon the change in 
him when Spike Weber's voice broke 
in on her thought. 

"Say, Doc," the little bantam-weight 
observed addressing Griffin, "we 
must be pretty close now." 

"Close to what?" the Doc demanded. 

"Why close to the spot where we 
planted that stuff," Spike began. "1 
only hope we can recognise the tree " 

Big Ben Cooper cuffed him across 
the mouth before ho could say more. 

"Shut up, you fool," the ex-heavy 
snarled, with a sidelong glance at Tom. 

The cowboy spoke up. "Aw, let him 
talk," he drawled. "I've known you 
fellers long enough to be wise to your 
racket. What did Doc turn back for 
when we were so close to the border?" 
What do you think I've stuck by you for 
— if it wasn't because I guessed you 
had some swag cached away somewhere? 
I'm playin' along with you, ain't I?" 

Griffin loaned forward to offer com- 
ment, but at that moment his quick 
ears detected an ominous sound, and he 
sat, up straight. 

"What's that?" he blurted. 

Tom defined tho sound as the drum- 
ming of hoofs, and, peering beyond 
the trees, ho saw a band of horsemen 
sweeping down a hillside. 

" it's the posse," he ejaculated. "We've 
got to hit the saddle again. Come on, 
Doc — I'll take care of the girl. Spike, 
you put out that fire I" 

Seizing Nora by the hand, Tom 
hurried her to his pony, lifted her on 
t'i the animal's back and then mounted 

January 28th, 1933. 


behind her. Doc Griffin and Ben Cooper 
also set foot in stirrup, and in the 
meantime Spike kicked at the blazing 
faggots of the camp-fire. 

He should have trodden them under 
heel, but the little prize-fighter was an 
unimaginative product of the gutter, 
with no experience of out-door life and 
not much natural intelligence. Conse- 
quently, his method of extinguishing the 
fire set light to the surrounding under- 
growth, which flared up instantly as the 
scattered embers fell into its midst. 

Tom heard the crackling of the twigs, 
and, as he saw what was happening, he 
gave a hoarse exclamation. 

"Say, what are you doing?" he called 
to Spike. "I didn't tell you to set the 
whole forest ablaze." 

"I was only tryin' to kick the fire 
out the quickest way," Spike protested. 
"Them flames will soon die down, any- 
way. It's only a few twigs that have 
caught light." 

"Yeah," Tom grated. "That 6hows 
you don't know how easy a forest fire 
starts in the dry season." 

There was no time to counteract the 
little prize-fighter's folly, however, and, 
as the latter hurriedly scrambled into 
the saddle of his horse, the party dashed 
off into the heart of the woods as fast 
as the broncs could carry them. 

Meanwhile, the flames in the brush 
were rearing higher, and spreading with 
a rapidity that the average townsman 
would never have credited, unlese he 
had had some experience of those ter- 
rific conflagrations that sometimes swept 
tracts of timber. Indeed, the blaze had 
already assumed formidable proportions 
when the approaching posse drew close 
to the trees. 

The sheriff held up his hand to signal 
a halt as he saw the smoke and flames. 

"Hold on, boys," he rapped out. "It 
looks like they've fired the forest to 
hold U6 off." 

"Pretty smart, eh?" one of his 
deputies said. "We'd better not go on, 
either, sheriff. If we get tangled up in 
a hell of flame we'll get more'n a 

The sheriff nodded. 

"We'll circle the woods," he de- 
clared. "It's a long ride, but -we may 
manage to head off that Griffin mob. 
Come on." 

Deep in the Forest. 

TOM and his companions pushed on 
a6 rapidly as possible, but at times 
Griffin was compelled to pause and 
take his bearings, and these delays were 
dangerous in the extreme, for there 
was a smell of smoke in the air, and it 
was clear that the woods behind them 
were fairly ablaze. . 

The bank robbers did not 6eem to 
realise their peril, but Tom and Nora 
did. They knew how swiftly a forest 
fire could rage through the underbrush, 
consuming everything in its way. They 
knew from the direction in which tho 
wind was blowing that it would soon 
be at their very heels if they dallied. 

They were in the heart of the woods 
when, coming suddenly upon a small 
clearing, Ben Cooper gave an exclama- 
tion and pointed to a log that lay amid 
a clump of bushes. 

"That's the spot, Doe," he announced. 

"Yeah, I know it," Griffin rejoined 
curtly, and at once swung himself out 
of the saddle. 

Big Ben and Spike followed his 
example, Tom was the last to dismount, 
and, leaving Nora on his horse, he 
watched Griffin cIo6ely as the crooked 
fight-manager made his way to the log. 

Tho Doc pulled the fallen tree-trunk 
aside, parted the bushes and then delved 
into a hole in the ground. A moment 

Every Tuesday 

later he straightened, and the others 
in the party saw that he was holding a 
suit-case in his hands. 

Griffin opened it, and his eye6 sparkled 
as its precious contents were revealed— 
a mass of coins and notes, representing 
a fortune of two hundred thousand 

"That's a puree worth fightin' for — 
eh, Doc?" Spike Weber observed. 

"You said it, Bantam," Big Ben put 
in. "Come on, Doc, now we've got tho 
stuff let's get goin'." 

Griffin shut the case slowly, and then, 
gripping it with his left hand, he stepped 
back a pace and snatched out the 
revolver that had belonged to the guard 
Ben Cooper had knifed. 

"Stay where you are, you mugs!" he 
ordered harshly, hie narrow eyes dart- 
ing from one to the other of his two 

Spike and Ben stared at him in be- 
wilderment for a moment. They were 
dumbfounded by the change in his 
demeanour, and failed to grasp the 
situation right away. 

"Wh-what's the idea, Doc?" Spike 

Griffin laughed mookingly. 

"You fellers didn't think I was goin' 
to split this 6wag with you, did you?" 
he scoffed. "Huh, I'm takin' this two 
hundred thousand for myself, and there 
ain't gonna be any share-out — see?" 

"You mean — you're gonna ditch us?" 
Ben faltered. 

"That's just what I do mean," Griffin 
retorted, i "Why; I only brought you 
along to keep you from squealin' !" 

Big Ben uttered a bellow of fury. 

"Why, you dirty, double-crossin' 
thief!" he roared, and, heedless of the 
gun in the Doc's fist, he lunged forward 
in an attempt to grapple with the man. 

Griffin shot him through the body, 
and then switched the revolver towards 
Spike as the bantam darted to close 
quarters. Again the weapon barked, 
and with a sob the little prize-fighter 
dropped to the ground beside hie hulk- 
ing partner. At the same time the 
horses stampeded, alarmed by the smash- 
ing reports, and the animal that Nora 
was riding dashed off with the others. 

Tom and Griffin were left in the clear- 
ing, with the huddled bodies of Spike 
and Ben between them. The cowboy 
had advanced a step, but several yards 
separated him from the Doc, and the 
latter quickly covered him with the 

"Don't make a move, Marley," he 
challenged, "or I'll give it to you, 

Tom pulled up, and Griffin started to 
back away. He was inwardly cursing 
his misfortune in having lost the horses, 
but he had seen one of them galloping 
off to the left, and, in the hope that it 
would finally come to a halt, he started 
to run in that direction. 

Tom stood etill for a spell, and, look- 
ing about him, he detected the gleam 
of flames at no great distance. Then 
he caught sight of Nora, and saw that 
she had drawn rein about seventy-fh e 
yards away. 

He called to her urgently, and, after 
a few seconds of hesitation, she returned 
towards him. As she pulled up before 
him he caught the bridle of the horse 
on which she wa3 mounted, and in a 
dozen hurried sentences he explained 
the real motive behind his previous atti- 

"Listen," he went on, when he had 

made everything clear to her, "the river 

runs through the north end of the forest, 

and, once on the other side of the water, 

(Continued on page 25.) 



Every Tuesday 

A plot to blow up a speed-boat — a thrilling race with death as the stakes. A gripping story 

of a daredevil who helped his father win a contract and smash a gang of crooks. Starring 

Richard Talmadge, Nancy Drexel and Donald Keith. 

The Fight. 

THE huge saloon of the showboat 
Savarin was crowded. Close on 
fifty people in evening dress, men 
arid women, were packed around the 
tte wheel and the baize-covered 

ne va plus!" called the croupier, 

Mid Letting stopped as he pitched the 

I white ball into the revolving wheel. 

There was a breathless pause, then the 

croupier was heard again. 

Vingt, noir et, paii', passe." 
A young man who was sitting next to 
the croupier watched his slake being 
iy, and uttered an exclamation 
of disgust. 

II" v is Bob Stuart, the only son of 
I Matthew Stuart, the ship- 
builder. Dark, with clear-cut feature! 
and a prominent jaw, he was known 
his friends as "Fighting 
irt," and it was his boa .-.I thai he 
bad al« b f out 

<>f the tightest fix. 

Tl>- had plenty of money, and nothing 
much to do with it. Cbi sequently, one 
of fa u:j- to come on In. aid 


The Savarin. of course, was a gam- 
bling ship. It was anchored in the 
harbour about a rnile off from the 
customs house, and provided its patrons 
with such diversions as dancing, roulette, 
baccarat, and anything else which would 
provide its proprietor with a good 

Bob saw the twenty turn up on the 
wheel, and gave an exclamation of 

"Twenty again!" he muttered. "And 
I was on fourteen, right next door to 
it ! Well, we'll try the opposite side 
this time— number thirty-four." 

The croupier smiled as Bob pushed a 
large pile of chips — his last — out on to 
the baize cloth. Again the wheel began 
to spin, again the croupier pitched the 
little white ball into it. 

"Vingt-sept, rouge et impair, passe." 

Bob shrugged his shoulders resignedly, 
bis e\e- lived on the roulette wheel. He 
had put his stake on thirty-four, and 
number I en had turned up. 

lb- bad not bad a stroke of luck all the 


He sat there watching the game with- 
out betting. Someone else started to 
I. d he lost, too. 

Sudden Bob's eyes narrowed. With 
uncanny accuracy the ball was dropping 
into holes very close to the biggest 
stakes, yet clear of them. It couldn't do 
that if the wheel were true. It would 
have to vary its position sometimes. 

Bob watched yet another spin, then, 
as soon as the ball came to rest, he 
shoved the croupier to one side and 
stopped the wheel. 

""Hey, what do you think you're 
doing?" shouted the croupier angrily. 

Bob ignored him. ne was on his 
hands and knees, examining the under- 
side of the table. When finally he rose 
to his feet there was an ugly glint in 
his eyes. 

"Tell Jessin I want him," he said 
quietly. "And don't touch that wheel 
until he comes." 

The croupier looked round, and 
nodded briefly to several men standing 
a short, way from the table. Slowly they 
closed in on Bob. 

Meanwhile Jessin had heard Bob's 
demand, and he hurried forward. He 
was the owner of the Savarin, and was 
a shifty-looking man with a partially 
bald head and a heavy, cruel mouth. He 
WM dressed in a dinner jacket, and his 
right hand \a- concealed in one of his 

January 28th, 1033. 


" Did you want to speak to me, Mr. 
Stuart?" lie said suavely. 

"I did, Jessin," Bob replied. "I've 
just found out why I've been losing so 
much. Your wheel's cooked." 

Jessin drew himself up and tried to 
appear offended. 

"Really, Mr. Stuart " he began. 

"Never mind the lies, Jessin," said 
Bob curtly. "Unless you want a whole 
lot of trouble, you'll pay back all stakes 
that have been laid to-night, and you'll 
put in a new wheel." 

Jessin smiled, and his eyes shifted 
light and left to the men he kept handy 
for such moments as these. 

"But why should there be any trouble, 
Mr. Stuart?" he asked smoothly. 

Bob faced him squarely. 

"For two reasons," he said in level 
tones. "The first is, that you've been 
( heating, and I'm going to see that any 
money you've robbed these people of is 
returned. The second is that I have 
an objection to talking to a man who 
keeps a gun in his pocket." 

"Maybe you'd prefer it where you can 
see it," said Jessin, and his right hand 
came into view. In it was a thirty-eight 
( 'olt automatic. Bob heard an ominous 
click as the safety-catch was slipped off. 

He held his ground without wavering. 
Vet he did not lose sight of the fact 
that unless he was careful his life would 
not be worth a moment's purchase. He 
knew Jessin's kind. They were killers. 

"Put that gun down, Jessin," he 
said threateningly. "I warn you " 

Jessin jerked his head towards the 

"Throw him off the ship," he said 
briefly to his confederates. 

The men closed in on him, and Bob's 
fighting blood surged to the surface. 
He measured the distance between him- 
self and Jessin with an experienced 

Then he felt a hand on his arm, and 

He grabbed the man nearest to him, 
and swung himself sideways. Using his 
captive as a battering-ram, he hurled 
him straight at Jessin. 

The impact sent Jessin crashing back- 
wards to the floor, his confederates on 
top of him. Meanwhile two others 
threw themselves upon Bob, their arms 
threshing the air like windmills. 

Their combined weight bore Bob back 
across a nearby table, and he felt fingers 
gripping his throat. He tensed himself 
for a moment, then flung his whole 
weight upwards. 

The move enabled him to free him- 
self. His two fists shot out and con- 
nected with bone, and the men staggered 
back, uttering cries of agony. 

By then Jessin had recovered. He 
groped on the floor for his automatic and 
swung it upwards. 

Bob did not give him time to take 
aim. He launched himself full at 
Jessin's chest as the gun exploded, and 
at the same moment that a bullet em- 
bedded itself in the wall Bob's fists again 
connected with bone. 

Jessin let out a cry and hurtled back- 
wards into the people behind him. Half 
a dozen lost their balance and fell to 
the floor, dragging Jessin with them. 

Bob. jumped, to. the companionway and 
started up it. On the second step he 

"I'll come back and settle my scores 
here some day,", he said grimly. "No 
one cheats Bob Stuart and gets away 
with it." 

Ho turned and raced for tho upper 
deck. At the same moment Jessin's 
voice roared out: 

"Get him, men !" 

Bob's speed-boat— a fast craft that 

January 28th, 1933. 


could do an easy forty knots — was moored 
alongside. Bob leapt into it, and rammed 
the toe of his evening shoe on the 

Tho engine throbbed into life as 
Jessin's men reached the deck. Swiftly 
Bob threw off his mooring line and 
engaged his gears. The boat glided away 
rapidly, gathering 6peed every second. 

A pencil of flame from behind told 
him that someone had obtained posses- 
sion of Jessin's gun. He did not hear 
the report above the roar of the engine, 
but he saw the splash of the bullet close 
by. He pushed the throttle lever forward 
as far as it would go, and swung his 
wheel hard over. 

The boat responded instantly. It zig- 
zagged crazily into the darkness of the 
night and passed out of range. 

Straight Speaking. 

BOB went back home after that and 
quickly got into bed. He was feel- 
ing sufficiently angry about being 
swindled that he knew it would be best 
for him to sleep on the whole business. 
When he woke up in the morning he 
would probably feel in a calmer frame 
of mind. 

And it needed calmness to deal with 
men like Jessin. 

When morning came he made his way 
to the stables, intending to have a ride 
before breakfast. He lived with his 
father in a huge mansion in a northern 
suburb of the city, and the stables were 
only a short distance away. 

When ho reached them he heard some- 
thing that drove all thoughts of Jessin 
out of his head for the moment. His 
groom hurried to meet him, and stopped 
him just inside the gates. 

"Don't come any farther, sir," the 
groom said. " That man from Dun- 
stunn's is here a-gain." 

"Tho chandler's?" asked Bob ner- 

"The very same," replied the groom. 
" He says you owe a clear hundred and 
fifty, and he's got to have it to-day." 

Bob sighed. He was always having 
people after him for money, and it was 
getting a little irksome. 

"I'd better see him," he said. "He's 
unlucky, though. I'm broke — cleaned 

He crossed the yard and entered the 
small office at the end of one of the 
buildings. A man with a forbidding 
aspect sprang to his feet as Bob entered. 

"Ah, Mr. Stuart," said the man, "I 
am from Dunstunn's " 

"I know," said Bob. "You keep on 
coming. Why don't you stay away ? 
I'll let you have the money when I've 
got it." 

"I want it now, Mr. Stuart. Every 
time I come here you tell me the same 
thing^-that I'll have the money when 
you've got it. It isn't good enough. 
My firm has waited a long time, and 
now our patience is exhausted." 

"That's too bad," said Bob, "but I 
don't see what you're going to do about 
it. If I haven't got any money, I can't 
pay you, can I ?" 

"No, but your father can." 

Bob's jaw fell. He had not expected 

" You mean to say that unless I pay 
you at once you'll go to my old man?" 
ho said. 

"I mean just that, Mr. Stuart." 

Bob considered this for a moment. If 
his father got to hear about his debts 
there would be the deuce to pay. It 
would probably mean that his allowance 
would be stopped. 

"Look here," ho said, "come back to- 
morrow. I'll see my fattier, and get 
him to give me enough to pay you." 

Every Tuesday 

"I will not come back to-morrow," 
said the oill collector. "I want the 
money now, and unless I can have it 

from you. I'll Hey, where are you 


But Bob did not hear. He was 
already half-way across the yard. The 
bill collector pounded along after him. 

Bob leapt into his car and shot away 
in a cloud of dust. He had to get hold 
of his father at all costs, and ask him 
for an advance to pay the man. On no 
account must the man get there first. 

The bill collector was nonplussed for 
the moment. He could not see the 
reason for Bob's sudden flight. Then he 
decided that Bob must be going to old 
Mr. Stuart's office, perhaps with the 
idea of telling old Mr. Stuart not to 
pay the money. 

He dived into his own car and started 
off in pursuit. 

Bob's car raced along the broad 
avenue that led into the middle of the 
city, the speedometer hovering close on 
the sixty mark. Suddenly he heard the 
whining of a speed-cop's motor-cycle 
just beside him, and a voice call out: 

" Hoi ! Pull up there ! I want jour 
name and address." 

With a sigh Bob put on his brakes. 
The last thing he dared do was to fall 
foul of the police. 

"Look here, officer." he said as they 
both drew to a halt, "I'm in a desperate 
hurry " 

"I can see that you are," said the 
cop, pulling out his notebook. 

Bob did some quick thinking, and 
looked back along the road. It was 
dead straight and level for about a 
mile and a half, and in the distance he 
could see a tiny speck that looked like the 
bill collector. 

He turned to the speed-cop again. 

"It's a matter of life and death," he 
said, and pointed back along tho road. 
"A madman is after me. He said he's 
got to kill me, and he looks as if he'3 
going to do it, too." 

The cop's jaw came out, and he thrust 
his notebook back into his pocket de- 

"Is that so?" he said grimly. "Well, 
I'll soon deal with him. I ain't going to 
have no killin's on my beat. Get goin', 
young man — I'll fix him." 

Bob needed no further invitation. He 
slammed in his gears and 6hot away as 
though a thousand devils were after 

While this was going on a scene of 
quite a different nature was going on iu 
the office of Matthew Stuart. With the 
old shipbuilder was his general manager 
and his chief designer. 

Mr. Stuart was pacing up and down, 
his hands behind his back, muttering 

"It's speed — speed — speed," he said 
savagely. " That's all everyone thinks 
about these daj-s — speed. I tell you, 
McCary, I won't build any speed-boats." 

"You'll have to, sir, if you want to 
keep pace with the times," said the chief 
designer. "This contract is a Govern- 
ment one, and calls for fast motor- 
launches that can beat the speediest ship 
now afloat." 

Mr. Stuart stopped by his desk, and 
brought his fist down with a crash upon 
its polished surface. 

"I tell you for the last time I won't 
do it," he stormed. "It's no use argu- 
ing. I've always built for quality, not 
speed, and I'm continuing that way. 
Stuart-built boats have been good 
enough all these years " 

The general manager, a man named 
Forbes, cleared his throat noisily. He 
was the only one in this vast firm who 

Every Tuesday 

dared tell his boss exactly what he 

"You talk of speed as though it's 
something poisonous, Mr. Stuart," he 
said quietly. "And as for the boats 
we've built in the past — well, frankly, 
they're not good enough for present-day 
conditions. The trouble with this firm 
is that it's old-fashioned." 

"Old-fashioned!" roared old Mr. 
Stuart. "Old " 

"Let me finish, please, Mr. Stuart," 
said the general manager firmly. "The 
facts are briefly these — we've got to 
compete with other firms if wo want to 
:hese Government contracts. Orders 
are slow in coming in just now, and 
we've got a good chance of brisking 
things up a bit. I suggest that you tell 
McCary to bring in his plans and then 
talk them over with him. I'll get the 
■osting department to find out how much 
we can build for; then we'll submit a 
tender. Is that agreed?" 

"But, look here " said old Mr. 

Stuart. He was already wavering. 

"'It means that our yards will be 
-lack unless you do," said the dispas- 
sionate general manager. 

Mr. Stuart surrendered. 

"All right," he said. "Go ahead with 
the whole scheme. I'll try anything 

Broke ! 

THE conversation had just reached 
this point when Bob burst into the 
outer office. The first person he 
saw was young Alan Harlan, Forbes' 
Alan was about Bob's own age— 
twenty-two. He was tall and fair, but 
the lines of his mouth showed weakness. 
Bob thumped him on the l>ack, and 
grinned at him cheerfully. 

Hallo, me old buck'." he said chat- 
" How's the job?" 
Alan grinned ba< k. 
"AM right), Bob. I've just had another 

d. "I'm doing well." 
l-'in-"." Boh breezed. And hows 
' " 
Joan was Alan's Bister, and 
igh Bob did not admit it 
ivone — even the girl fa 
in love 

i, d. ■" She was 
you the 
r day — wanted to 
know if you'd si 
work yet." 
Bob made a 
.■ of despair. 

Mid the girl !" 

-.llll. "AH - i' 

-hink of is mak 

fellow work. W 

'nls me. If I don't 

the old in. in .right 

, I might have to. 

; oii later." 

Il-i darted a. ro-s t l ie 

office and cannoned into 
McCai . who wn 

ng out of Mr. 

1 [e 

gripped McCary by the 

"" Hallo, Mi- ' 1 1 

he ahkcl. 

Ud ' . g j i n n e d 


"Raging — posi 
raging," he said. "If he 
e your 
I ofl II just 
bullied into building 
Bob groaned. 
"This is my unlucky 


day," he said mournfully. "Well, here 
goes ! " 

He pushed his way into his father's 
private office, and found Mr. Stuart in 
the middle of a rousing argument with 
Forbes. The old man broke off as Bob 
came in, and fixed him with a baneful 

" Well, what do you want 1" he 

Bob tried to force a disarming smile. 

" Just thought Td look in," he said 
airily. " Wanted to 6ee if I could — er — 
help you with anything, you know." 

"You didn't," said the old man 
shortly. " You came to ask for money — 
as usual. Well, you can't have any." 

"But. father " 


Bob sighed. He would have to wait 
until the old boy was in a better mood. 
Meanwhile, there was the bill collector 
to think about. Bob's only consolation 
was that the collector would be busy 
with the cop for a few houre. 

"Oh, well, if you won't, you won't," 
he said resignedly. " How about com- 
ing to watch me play polo this after- 
noon ?" 


"Do." Bob put all the pleading he 
could muster into his voice. "It'll do 
you no end of good. You've been work- 
ing too hard lately, and the fresh air will 
make a new man of you." 

Old Mr. Stuart opened his mouth to let 
out another " No," then hesitated. Per- 
haps Bob's idea was 'a good one after 
all. Besides, Bob was always asking for 
more money in order to buy fresh polo 
ponies, and the old man wanted to see 
that he was getting his money's worth. 

"All right," he growled. "What 
time ':" 

"Three o'clock — at the ground." 


The old man nodded, and plunged once 
more into his argument with Forbes, 
ignoring Bob altogether. Bob slid 
silently out. 

At a quarter to three that afternoon 
he was sitting on a bench outside the 
polo-field stables, and by his side was 
an extremely pretty girl. She was 
dressed in the flimsiest of summer frock?, 
and anyone could 6ee her likeness to her 
brother, Alan Harlan. The only differ- 
ence was that while Alan's face was 
weak, hers was decidedly determined. 

"Joan," said Bob, "when are you 
going to change your mind about me? 
Every time you see me you trea: 
like a leper. It - 6 disheartening." 

"Is it?" Joan replied distantly. "Per- 
sonally, I like men who work — not 
young boys who play the fool all day 
long on their father's money." 

"I say, that's a bit hard on me, is"."t 
it?" said Bob. "I'm going into the old 
man's office one day. I promise." 

"One day? Why not now?" S 
turned from him. " In any case, it's no 
concern of mine. I don't care what you 

Bob did not have time to say anything 
more to her, for at that moment 
captain came along and told him to take 
his placo on the field. 

Bob mounted his pony disconsolately, 
and rode away. It did not add t. 
ease of mind that his father had 
turned up. 

The gam.? started, and they. 
Bob's mind was fully occupied. He did 
not have time to think of his troubles. 

Ho was playing the position of num- 
ber four — a position that combines 
duties of goalkeeper and back — an 
the opposing team were tho stroll 
Bob had to do some hard riding 

Their combined weight bore 

Bob back across a nearby (able 

and he felt fingers gripping bis 


January 2H!>, 1933." 


lusty striking to keep his team out of 

At the end of the fourth chukker, the 
teams rode in to change ponies, and Bob 
found his father waiting for him. Old 
Mr. Stuart was close to boiling-point. 

"Bob," he said grimly, "I want to 
talk to you." 

"Leave it until after the game, dad," 
said Bob. "I've got to go on the field 
again right away." 

"You are not going on to the field 
again," said Mr. Stuart. "I have just 
received a visit from a firm known as 
Dunstunn's. Their representative tells 
me that you owe them a lot of money- 
money that you have thrown away in 

"Did he tell you that?" asked Bob. 

"He did. He knows all about you. 
Everyone 6eems to know all about you 
except me." Mr. Stuart ground his teeth 
in a terrifying manner. "This criminal 
extravagance of yours is going to cease 
from this moment. Change your clothes 
and come with me at once." 

"But I can't let my team down like 
that!" Bob protested. 

" You'll do as I say I" 

Bob 6aw that argument would be use- 
less, and decided to act on his own 
initiative. He darted away, jumped on 
to his pony's back, and rode back into 
the field. „ . 

Mr. Stuart, in spite of himself, found 
that the game interested him. He 
watched closely, and let up a cheer when 
the opposing number one, within an ace 
of scoring, was neatly outridden and 
headed off by Bob. 

But his enthusiasm did not drive away 
his feelings of resentment that Bob was 
spending so much money without doing 
anything for it. He waited for Bob to 
come off the field at the conclusion of 
the final chukker, and gripped him by 
the arm. 

"Young man," he said tersely, "to- 
morrow you start work." 

"But " 

"Don't argue. I have already given 
instructions that your ponies are to be 
sold. You will report at the office at 
nine in the morning, and you will 
receive no more money from me unless 
you work for it. That is final." 

Ho stamped away, leaving Bob staring 
after him in astonishment. 

Secret Plans. 

THERE was no help for it. Bob had 
to present himself at his father's 
office the next day, and he found 
that his arrival was not unexpected. 
Forbes, the general manager, was wait- 
ing for him. 

" Well, young man, you're here at 
last," Forbes said. "Your father has 
already told me what I'm to do with 
you. "You're to start at the bottom." 

Bob passed a hand wearily over his 
eyes. He was not feeling too sprightly. 
Ha had not been out of bed so early in 
the morning for six months, and early 
rising did not agree with his system. 

"What Joes that mean?" he asked in 
a hollow voice. "Do I clean out the 
inkwells, or 6tick on stamps?" 

"Neither. I'm putting you in the 
workshops. McCary will be your boss. 
Come with me, and I'll tell him about 

Bob followed Forbes meekly to the 
huge engineering shops behind the office 
building. They backed on to the 
western fringe of the harbour, and from 
them Bob could see the Savarin in 
the distance. Ho groaned. No chance 
of getting even with Jessin now. 

Or so he thought. 

McCary was busy at the slipway on 
which the new speed-boat was being 

January 28tli, 1933. 


built. His plans had been all ready, 
and a gang of men had been working 
on it all night. Its framework was 
already laid down. 

Forbes stated his business briefly. 

"McCary, Bob has got to learn the 
business from the bottom up," he said. 
"It's his father's orders. I'll leave him 
with you." 

"Right," said McCary, and Forbes 
went away. McCary jerked his thumb 
at the speed-boat. 

"Know anything about these?" he 

Bob looked at the framework 

"I certainly do," he said. "And I'll 
tell you something. As a speed-boat it 
wouldn't catch a barge." 

McCary showed immediate interest. 
He was feeling sore that morning, be- 
cause he had just had another bout 
with old Mr. Stuart. 

"Why not?" he asked. 

"Because it'll come too high out of 
the water," said Bob. "In a craft like 
this you want all the height at the stern, 
not at the bows. Besides, as she's de- 
signed at the moment the resistance of 
air and spray will take ten per cent 
off her knottage." 

"How do you know about things like 
that?" asked McCary. 

" I've had three of my own," Bob re- 
plied. "That's how." 

McCary's expression became crafty. 
He gave Bob a shrewd glance. 

"I'm glad someone agrees with me," 
he said drily. "Yesterday I took my 
plans to your father and he had them 
all altered. As you say, this thing 
wouldn't catch a barge, let alone a fast 
smuggler's cutter." 

Bob stared at him incredulously. 

"Mean to say my old man had it 
built that way?" he asked. 

"He did," was McCary's grim reply. 

Bob squared his shoulders, and a glint 
came into his eye. 

"I'll soon tell the old fathead all 
about it," he said pugnaciously. "I'm 
a member of this firm now, and I'm 
not going to let him ruin us all. You 
just watch me." 

He charged out of the shops, leaving 
McCary gaping after him, and made 
his way to his father's office. He burst 
in, to find Forbes there. 

He ignored Forbes and concentrated 
on the old man sitting at the desk. 

"I've just seen the framework of that 
speed-boat," he said. 

"Well?" demanded the old man. 
"What about it?" 

" It's rotten." 

The old man flopped back in his chair, 
the breath taken completely out of him. 
He gasped for several seconds like a 
fish that had been thrown up on the 
beach by a huge wave. 

"It's— it's WHAT?" he roared at last. 

"Rotten," said Bob calmly. "Too 
high in the bows. Wind and spray resis- 
tance are going to drop the speed ten 
per cent. What's more, with all that 
weight forward, the bows won't come 
out of the water when she's all out. If 
she's intended for sea-going she'll ship 
water like a sieve." 

The old man got to his feet. On his 
brow was a frown like a gathering 
storm. His face was red with anger. 

"You young scoundrel, how dare you 
come into my office and talk to me like 
that!" he thundered. "What do you 
know about the principles of design? 
You've only been in the works five 

"I know enough to tell you you're 
wasting your time with that old tub 
you're building now," said Bob. 

"Get out of this office!" roared the 

Every Tuesday 

old man. "Get out, or I'll have you 
thrown out!" 

Bob saw that it was no use. The old 
man would never change his ideas. The 
whole thing was hopeless. 

He returned to the shops, thinking 
hard. Suddenly the gloom disappeared 
from his face, and he grinned. 

"That's the game," he said gleefully. 
"I'll build a boat myself at night. 
Won't the old boy get a shock?" 

He almost hugged himself. He knew 
he could get old Forbes to detail some 
of the night staff on to the new job. 
The keel of the new craft could be laid 
down in one of the covered slipways 
and kept locked during the day. 

Bob made his plans quickly and 
efficiently. Thereafter, night after 
night, there came the sound of steady 
hammering from a far corner of the 
shops. Bob's speed-boat was slowly 
rising on the stocks. 

The Traitor. 

WORK had been proceeding for' 
about a week, and the planking 
was almost completed to tho 
gunwale, when Bob made a startling dis- 

He was going from the slipway to the 
canteen one night in order to get him- 
self a cup of coffee when he saw a light 
burning in the drawing office. 

He frowned, puzzled. None of the 
drawing staff worked at night and the 
office was normally closed. It was the 
place where all the plans of the Stuart- 
built ships were kept. 

He crossed to the office and pushed 
open the door. 

A man was standing by one of the 
tables, a large blue-print laid out be- 
fore him. As Bob entered he turned 
swiftly and tried to hide the print. 

It was Alan Harlan, Joan's brother. 

"Hallo, Alan," said Bob quietly. 
"Working late?" 

"Er — yes," said Alan lamely. "I just 
came back to check over some figures." 

Bob crossed to the table and looked 
down at the blue-print. It was of the 
new speedboat. 

"I didn't know this came within your 
duties, Alan," he said. "You belong 
to the general office. How is it you're 
out in the shops?" 

Alan began to bluster. 

"I've told you," he said, showing 
anger. "I came back to check some 
figures. Can't I work in my spare time 
without having to answer questions?'' 

"Sure you can," said Bob. "What 
were the figures you wanted?" 

"Oh— er— about the costing of your 
new boat." 

Bob eyed Alan grimly. 

"You're telling me lies, Alan," he 
said evenly. "The new boat isn't being 
costed in the general office. In fact, no- 
body knows anything about it officially. 
Don't you think you had better " 

Alan's nerve gave. way. He turned 
quickly, dodged Bob's outstretched arm, 
and darted through tho door. 

Bob swung round after him and 
pursued him across the shops. Ho 
caught him close to the stores and 
gripped him by the shoulders. Alan 
wrenched himself free and lashed out. 

Bob had been expecting something of 
the sort. He jerked himself sideways 
and shot out with his left. It caught 
Alan on the side of the jaw, and Alan 
crashed to the ground. 

Bob helped him to his feet and shook 

"You'd better tell me what the game 
is," he said curtly. 

Alan wsa whimpering. He was 
frightened now. Bob's blow had 
knocked all the fight out of him. 

Every Tuesuay 

"I was copying the plans." he 
blubbered. "Someone who's building a 
rival boat is paying me." 

Bob regarded him with disgust. 

"So you were going to sell your own 
firm, were you?" he said. 

"I didn't want to do it, Bob," Alan 
cried. "Honestly, I didn't. They got 
me into their clutches, and forced me to 
Jo all they asked." 

"Who are ' they ' ?" 

Alan clung to Bob's arm, quaking with 

'If I tell you, promise me you won't 
let Joan know anything about it?" ho 

" Joan has got nothing to do with 
this," said Bob curtly. "It's between 
you and I. Who is it that is paying 
yon for the copy of those plans?" 

" Jessin." 

"Jessin! Why?" 

"He's afraid of you, Bob." Alan'3 
white face showed starkly under the 
glare of the overhead lights. "He's 
building a rival speed-boat, and he knows 
you know something about them." 

"How was it you got into his 
clutches?" asked Bob. 

"I went on board the Savarin several 

"And played roulette?" 


Bob nodded grimly. 

"I see," be said. "So he skinned you 

v ,t!i his faked wheel, and then made 

lo this in order to liquidate your 

debts. Great heaven9, Alan, why were 

1 ou such a blamed fool as to fall in with 

his rotten schemes? Why didn't you let 

him try to sue you for his money? No 

court in tho land will grant judgment 

imbling debts. He couldn't have 


"I gave him I O Cs," said Alan piti- 
fully. "He threatened to half-kill mo 
unless I did. His men " 

"I know," said Bob. "He keeps a 
lot of bullies on hand for people like 
you. Well, he can certainly make things 
bad for you if he holds your paper." 

He pondered for a few seconds, keep- 
ing a 6rm hold on Alan meanwhile. 
If'' watched Alan's face, am! could not 
help feeling contempt for his weakness. 
If he hadn't been Joan's brother, Bob 
Would not have spared him an instant. 

Sodden I y ho had an idea. 

"Look here. Alan, you've got to save 

' you can," he said. "I'm 

.'oing to let you have plans of mv 

l>oat, but you can take any copies 

)ron like of the other one. Give them to 

and mako him think they aro 

■line. Understand t" 

Alan nodded miserably. 

'Come hack to the drawing -office," 

.n. "I'll help you. Then go 

I don't say a word of this to 

ody. If you do, I can't promise that 

this business won't get into tho hands 

of the polios." 

IT' led Alan back, and about the 
corners of his mouth was a strange 


DURING the following week, Bob 
made secret inquiries into the 
movements of certain men 111 tire 
shops md slowly laid bare a dastardly 
plot. Not only Alan, but several other 
of the Stuart employees wero in Jeasin's 
md as fast as tho new boat was 
being built, just so fast was pro* 
being r< r *'- r t . •< J ook-competitor. 

En the end, Bob tent for Alan, and 
dragged him into a quiet corner. 

n, Alan, you didn't, tell me 
'King the other night," he 
" W do else is in Jessin a pay besides 

»r came into Alan's face Ho teUyou that a Stuart-built boat doesn't develop trouble at speed I " he rasped. 

January 2Stb, 1033- 


cowered back as though Bob had threat- 
ened to hit him again. 

"If I tell you, they'll kill me," he 

"Xo one will know," said Bob. "I'll 
take good care to keep your name out 
of it, for Joan's sake. Come on, now — 
who else is in it ?" 

"Well, there's McCary " 

Bob started. He had known about 
several of the others, but McCary — well, 
he had certainly never suspected the 
firm's chief designer. 

"That's ali I want to know," he said 
briefly. "Go back to the general office 
and keep out of sight." 

Alan went away thankfully, and Bob 
did some quick thinking. Finally he 
decided that there was only one course 
open to him. He would have to see his 

Ho found the old man in his office, 
and wasted no time in preliminaries. 

"Listen, father, there's a rival organi- 
sation buying information from our 
employees," he said. 

Tho old man had been sitting quietly 
at his desk, but at Bob's news he sprang 
angrily to his feet. 

"What nonsense is this?" he roared. 

"Xo nonsense at all," replied Bob 
impcrturbably. "I'm just telling you 
that some of our employees are selling 
us." He changed his tactics. "Tell me, 
what was McCary's first plan for the 
speed-boat like — the one that you 

The old man calmed down at this. 
He saw that Bob was, for once, in 
deadly earnc-t. 

"Rotten," he said. "Like a tug. I 
altered it to what I thought was a speed- 
boat." Some of his confidence left him, 
and he became frankly meek. "To tell 
you the truth, my boy, I don't know 
much about speed-boats. They've never 
como my way much." 

"Then sit down again, and I'll tell 
you something that'll mako your hair 
stand on end," said Bob. "The first 
Jung I want from you is a promiso of 
secrecy. " 

The old man slumped back into his 
chair and flapped his hands feebly. This 
speed-boat business was getting him 
down, and ho was feeling glad to have 
Bob to have to talk to him about it. 

"All right," he said. "Go ahead." 


Bob cleared a corner of the desk for] 
himself, and sat down on it. 

"Right at the start of this conference 
you'd better hear what I have been 
doing," he said. "I was convinced from 
the start that your boat wouldn't stand a 
dog's chance of winning against com-! 
petitors. So I had another one laid: 
down — one that I designed myself.] 
We're building it at nights." 

"You're what?" roared the old man',? 

"Don't shout," said Bob. "Let's talk: 
about this quietly." He leaned over and 
stabbed the old man's blotter with his 
forefinger to emphasise his points 
"Now, my boat's a good one — so good 
that somebody thought it worth whi'e to 
steal a copy of the plans. I discovered! 
the culprit, and made him give to his 1 
boss a copy of the plans of your boat. 
Do you follow that?'* 

The old man settled more comfortably 
in his chair. He was resigned to 
thing now. 

"I follow," he said. "Go on." 

"I'm not going to mention that young 
fellow's name," Bob continued. "I've 
dealt with him myself. Meanwhile, your 
own chief designer is a traitor. 

"You mean McCary?" Tho old man 
scoffed openly. "Bah! You're ts 
through your hat. McCary's been 
the firm for twenty year?." 

"Yet he gave you dud plans for a 
speed-boat," said Bob. "They w< 
bad that even you, knowing nothing 
about speed-boat design, saw that 
were wrong." 

The old man rubbed his chin tho 

"There's certainly something in 
you say," he mused. "Those plan- 
were bad. But who is this man v. 
paying our employees?" 

"Jessin. And ho doesn't pay them," 
said Bob. "Ho runs the Savarin." 

"The gambling ship out in 
harbour? The one you used to go to':" 

"That's tho one. Ho gets folks over 
there, then swindles them with a faki 1 
roulette wheel. When they're in 
debt and he's holding their I O Us he 
makes them liquidate by doing his dirty 
work for him. Now are you convinced?" 

The old man stared at Bob for a few- 
minutes in silence. He was beginning 
to realise for the first time in his life 
that there were gome things he was too 

1 Huh I " The old man poked an Indignant finger at Harrington. "Let me 


old to handle. Bob could maks a better 
job of them. 

Suddenly he leapt to his feet, and 
pounded the desk with his fist. 

"Jumping Jupiter!" he roared. "I'll 
have every one of those men sacked 
this instant. I'll have the police on 
I heir tracks. They'll be made to pay 
for thi6." 

Bob put a hand on his father's arm 
and forced him back into his chair 

"Let me deal with them," he said. 
"I give you my word they'll be out of 
your works in half an hour. Agreed?" 

The old man shrugged his shoulders. 
For once in his autocratic existence he 
was finding it easier to let someone else 
lake the initiative. 

"All right, son," he said, and there 
was a new kindliness in his voice. "Go 
right ahead. I'll back up anything you 

"Fine!" said Bob, and left him. 

He returned to the shops, and made 
his way straight to where McCary and 
his gang were working. 

"Hey, all of you — stop what you're 
doing and come here," he said. 

The men obeyed wonderingly. They 
had never heard the ring of authority 
in Bob's tone before. 

"It's come to my notice that certain of 
you men are selling information to a 
rival builder," said Bob, eyeing them 
grimly. "I'm not going to give any 
names, so the whole gang is dismissed. 
Draw your pay from the office, and clear 
out of these works pronto." 

An angry murmur rose from the men. 
McCary stepped forward blusteringly. 

"What in blazes do you think you're 

saying, young man i 

ho demanded. 

"I'm in charge here, not you. Go 

Bob tensed his muscles in joyous an- 
ticipation. He did not notice that Joan, 
on her way to see her brother, was 
standing a short distance away, watching 

"Since you take the lead, McCary," 
he said. "I'll deal with you first. Just 
now I told you to draw your pay and 
go. Well, you'll go all right, but I'm 
giving you instant dismissal, which 
means that you've got no pay coming 
to you. That's for arguing the point. 
Now clear out!" 

McCary's face turned purple. He 
took a threatening step towards Bob, 
and raised his fist. 

"By Heaven, young man " he 


He said no more. Bob spun him 
round, then grabbed him by his collar 
and the seat of his pants. Half-pushing, 
half-carrying him, he ran him out of the 
shops and into the general office. 

"Hey, Forbes," he said, "McCary's 
sacked at a moment's notice. Ask the 
old boy about it if you doubt my 
authority. See that this skunk doesn't 
came back." 

He raced back to the shops, and faced 
the gang again. 

"Any other gentleman feel like arbi- 
tration?" he asked pleasantly. 

No other gentleman did. They broke 
up rather hurriedly, and vanished in the 
direction of the office. 

Bob rubbed his hands joyfully, and 
followed. In the general office he saw 
Alan, and went up to him. 

"You'd better go, too," he said. 
"You're in it as much as they are, and 
I can't pitch them out without doing the 
same to you." 

"But, Bob, we're old friends " 

"We were," Bob corrected. "But 
we stopped being when you tried to 
sell us. Run along, and thank your 
lucky stars it's no worse." 

January 28th, 1933. 


He turned away, to find himself face 
to face with Joan. A frown was on 
her forehead, and two bright spots 
burnt in her cheeks. 

"What do you mean by dismissing 
my brother?" she demanded. "I think 
it's hateful of you." 

Bob groaned. Because he was acting 
in his father's interests — because, in fact, 
he was doing the job Joan had told 
him to do — he was landing himself into 
trouble with her. 

But there was nothing he could do 
to save himself. He could not tell her 
the reason why Alan was being sacked. 
He could only take refuge in lame 

"I have to," he said apologetically. 
"You see, we're cutting down staff. 
Times are bad." 

"T don't believe you've got a spark of 
decency in you," Joan said bitingly. 
"I saw you outside just now. You 
couldn't even dismiss a few men with- 
out fighting. That's all you're good 
for — knocking people about who are 
weaker than yourself. I hate you!" 

She turned and strode out of the 

Bob watched her go, and felt an im- 
pulse to go after her and tell her every- 
thing. He knew that unless he did, he 
might never see her again. 

Then he remembered the promise he 
had made to Alan. 

"Gosh!" he muttered. "What do 1 
do now?" 

Shadows of the Night. 

THE door of old Mr. Stuart's room 
banged open, and Mr. Stuart him- 
self put his head out. He saw 
Bob, and bawled at him. 

"Hey, Bob, come in here a minute," 
he said. 

Bob went, wondering what was going 
to happen now. 

"Listen, Bob," said the old man when 
the door was closed on them, "what's 
all this you were telling me about a 
boat of your own design?" 

"Just that I've built a real speed- 
boat, that's all," Bob replied. "It's a 
beauty. She'll beat everything else 

"I dare say," replied the old man, 
"but how are you getting her built in 
my shops? Why wasn't I consulted?" 

"If you had been, you'd have killed 
the whole idea on the spot." 

"Huh! When is this boat of yours 
going to be finished?" 

"In two days. Then she'll be ready 
for her trials." 

"Well, seeing it's my money you're 
spending, I'd better see her for my- 

Bob led the way to the enclosed slip- 
way, where the new speed-boat was still 
on her chocks. He pointed to her 

The old man looked at the craft, and 
opened his eyes in wonderment. She 
was the last word in stream-lining, with 
a sharp enclosed bow and a cut-away 
stern. Her two rudders and propeller 
tubes were in position, and her giant 
engines had already been bolted to their 

"Shades of Neptune!" muttered the 
old man, visibly impressed. "Till me, 
son, what will she do on the open 

"Every bit of sixtv-fivc knots." 

"Sixty-five I Holy mackerel!" The 
old man hugged himself with joy. "Get 
every man left in the shops on her. 
We'll finish her and try her out at once. 
Hey, Forbes, Forbes!" 

He dashed away in the direction of 
I In- general offices, leaving Bob grin- 
ning delightedly after hiai. 

Every Tuesday 

By seven that evening she wa3 
finished, and old man Stuart came 
along and saw her. Much as he had 
been against the speed-boat idea before, 
he was now frankly enthusiastic. 

"We'll have her on the water first 
thing to-morrow," he 6aid. Then his 
faco fell. ".Gosh, I'd forgotten. We've 
no one to run her. Now McCary's 
gone we're without the only man who 
can handle a craft like this." 

Bob insinuated himself gently into 
the conversation. 

"We're not," he said. "I'm taking 
her. " 

"You?" The old man wheeled on 
him suddenly. "Now look here " 

"It's already been decided," said 
Bob firmly. 

The old man gave in. He knew thero 
was nothing else to do. 

The men gradually drifted away to 
their homes, and soon the shops were 
empty. Even the old man had gone, 
leaving only Forbes and Bob. 

Bob looked round the empty shops 

"I'm going to stay here to-night, 
Forbes," he said. "With all those dis- 
missals to-day, Jessin is likely to get 
panicky. He- may try to tamper with 
the boat." 

"If you're staying, I'll stay with you, 
Bob," said Forbes. "If there's any 
trouble, two can deal with it better 
than one." 

"Thanks. Forbes," said Bob grate- 
fully. "It would case my mind con- 
siderably if I had you with me." 

Hour after hour passed uneventfully, 
and the clock on a neighbouring build- 
ing struck two. Then, suddenly. Bob's 
muscles went rigid, and he laid his hand 
quickly on Forbes' nrm. 

"What was that?" he whispered. 

"I didn't hear anything," Forbes 
whispered back. 

Bob peered into the darkness. 

"I thought I heard a noise from over 
there." He pointed to the back of the 
shops. "It sounded like someone walk- 
ing on tiptoe. Wait here, while I go 
and look." 

Cautiously lie crept along, pausing 
every now and then to listen. Once he 
thought ha heard a noise, like a soft 
thud, but as it was not repeated he paid 
no regard to it. 

Then he stiffened. Yes, there was a 
noise. It was the clink of metal upon 
metal, and it came from (lie direction 
of the enclosed slipway. 

Swiftly Bob made his way back to 
where he had left Forbes. Suddenly he 
stopped as ho felt something against 
his feet. 

It was Forbes himself. He was lying 
across the opening to the slipway, and 
he was unconscious. Somebody had 
knocked him out. 

Bob reached out for the electric switch 
on the wall, and the next instant (he 
place was flooded with light. Three 
men were staring into his face, startled. 
One held a tiny drill. 

Bob looked at them, and instantly re 
cognised Jessin. His hands bunched up 
into a pair of murderous fists. 

Jessin's hand leapt to his pocket, and 
Bob knew what it was for. The crook 
was pulling his gun. Bob picked up a 
wrench that was lying close at hand and 
flung it clean into Jessin's face. 

11.- flung himself after it. his fists 
lashing out with deadly effect. Jessin 
went down under the blow from the 
wrench, and the other two met the full 
force of Bob's attack. In a moment 
they were floundering about on the 
floor helplessly. 

Jessin's automatic had fallen near to 
(Continued on page 86.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 19 

West of Zanzibar on the Ivory Trail, at grips with the sinister Shillov, White Overlord 

of Darkest Africa's Bush ! A grand serial-drama of a strange quest that was fraught with 

Peril and Intrigue. Starring Tom Tyler, Noah Beery, Jun., and Cecilia Parker. 


sudden roar amid the tree boughs 
up above, and next second a half-human 
form swept down through a tangle of 

It was the form of Zungu, and the 

mighty ape-man of the bush dropped in 

a crouching attitude beside the spot 

where the girl lay, falling straight into 

the track of the leopard's jump. 

Tho dappled brute crashed into his 

ve chest, and bore him to the 

nd. But Zungu's hands had flashed 

to the animal's throat, and an exulting 

roar broke from him as he swung the 

id on its back and sprawled atop 

of it. 

i a few seconds Barbara watched 
;gle in awe, her ears filled 
with the tumultuous voice of the ape- 
snarling of the hungry 
'. of prey. Then she scrambled to 
her fi ■■ at a hasty retreat. 

Zungu's powerful fingers clenched 

hard on the leopard's neck, crushing the 

out of it.s writhing body. With all 

trength and litheness the brute could 

inquish its attacker nor escape 

i his grip, and it was in vain that 

■ flesh with its cruel claws. 

/. • i baffled its efforts to retaliate on 

him, and with relentless stranglehold 

throttled the animal until it lay dead 

■ th him. 

• ape-man rose then, and casting 
.-lance about him, he 3aw Barbara 
ng along the jungle path. He 
d after her for a spell, but made 
'tempt to pursue her, and reaching 
the festoons of creeper-tendrils that 
■ from the trees he climbed agilely 
in'o the lii^h fol age and vanished amid 

Silence came down, and all that re- 
mained to indicate what had happened 
on that bush track was the figure of the 
dead leopard. Nor was it long before 
a party of blacks saw it lying there, 
the search-party led by that faithful 
servant of Kirk Montgomery, Kazimoto 
the interpreter. 

Kazimoto stopped as he discerned the 
brute, and wondering if it were really 
dead, he and his companion! approached 
with caution. It did not take them long 
to satisfy themselves that they had 
nothing to fear, and then as he caught 
sight of something close to the animal's 
body ho gave an exclamation and 
stooped quickly. 

object was a handkerchief, and 
K.i/imoto recognised it as Barbara's. 
Ere he could al i follow up this 

clue, however, one of the party uttered 
a startled shout, and turning his head 
quickly tho interpreter saw a formid- 
able body of men swarming from a 
thicket, with Sliillov's henchman 
Krot«ky in the lead. 

"It's Montgomery's servant!" the 
ruffianly white man was shouting. 
"Take him alive !" 

Kazimoto had only a handful of com- 
panions with him, and the unexp 
nature of the onset put them to flight. 
The interpreter had no choice but to 
imitate their example, and he took to 
his heels, but before he had gone fivo 
paces he was overhauled and seized. 

II -lpless in the gra.sp of several of the 
hostile band ho found himself confronted 
by Krotsky, and the man gripped him 
by the shoulder and shook him roughly. 

"Where's the whito girl — Barbara 
Morgan?" he demand"!. 

Kazimoto shot a scared glance at him. 
He had thrust Barbara's handker 
inside his loose-fitting shirt and 
glad now that he had done so. 

"I do not know where whito girl :-, 
bwana," he said, truthfully enough. 

"You're lying, you dog!" snarled 
Krotsky. "You do know." 

"No, no, bwana!" the captive pro- 
tested. "Kazimoto does not know." 

Krotsky scowled at him for a moment, 
and then turned to those who held . 

'Tome, we'll take him back to 
and drag him before Shillo\, 
said. " March 1" 

The detachment made tracks for 
renegade settlement, and on res 

I inside the stockade. Kro 
then clutched Kazimoto by tho arm and 
forced him across to Shillov's bungalow, 
and as the rogue entered with 
prisoner he found tho grey-be;, 
tyrant and Bello Waldron in the li\ 

"Shillov," Krotsky announced to hi.s 
leader, "wo found this dog in the jui 
He says he doesn't know when. 
Morgan girl is." 

Shillov eyed Kazimoto menacii 

"She didn't return to the village, e 
he muttered. 

" No," Kazimoto stammered. "I I 
for her in bush." 

"While Morgan and the rest of your 
party went off on tho trail of Tipoo 
Tib's ivory, I BU] i K llov. 

The captive interpreter shook his head 

"No, bwana," he rejoined. "They 
look fo' Bwana Morgan's son .1 

"Ah, thrown him in with Montgomery 
and Oakes, Krotsky," Sbilloi 

' January 28th, ]0.;3. 


impatiently. "Then get back into the 
bush with your men again, and see if 
you can find any trace of the girl." 

Kazimoto was led away, and Shillov 
spoke gloomily to Belle Waldron. 

"Looking for Jack Morgan," he 
muttered. "That's what they all say. 
I'm almost ready to believe it myself." 

"It's what they want us to believe," 
Belle declared. "They know where the 
ivory is hidden, and they're using their 
search for Jack Morgan as a blind, to 
cover up their real purpose." 

Shillov nodded. 

"Perhaps you're right," he granted. 
"Jack Morgan knows where the ivory is, 
and I suppose by some manner of means 
he got word through to civilisation, tell- 
ing them his exact location. Well, I'll 
have that buried treasure yet. By 
heavens, Belle, can you picture it ? A 
million tusks, worth many millions of 
pounds, and all waiting for me, for 

Belle shot a sidelong glance at him. 
Yes, for him! That was Shillov's idea, 
but if he imagined that he was to de- 
prive her of her share he was mistaken. 

A Bid fop Freedom. 

FRED and Monty had been cut down 
from the crossbar to which they had 
been hanging by the wrists. Jn spite 
of the suffering they had undergone in 
that cruel position they had remained 
steadfast by their declaration that they 
could tell Shillov nothing about the 
ivory. Nor could they but because he 
believed otherwise, Shillov had had 
them unbound /or fear of them dying of 

They were somewhat recovered from 
their ordeal by the time that Kazimoto 
was led across the compound to the 
jfaol, and on the door of their cage 
being unlocked and the interpreter 
bundled into their presence they con- 
fronted him eagerly. 

"When did they get hold of you?" 
Monty demanded. 

Kazimoto waited until Krotsky and 
the rest of Shillov's men had departed, 
leaving one guard near the cage. Then 
he proceeded to relate all that had 
occurred, and as he told his story he pro- 
duced the handkerchief that he had 
found beside the body of the dead 

"It's Barbara's all right," Fred 
jerked, as he looked at two initials em- 
broidered in a corner of the handker- 
chief. "Monty, do you suppose the 
leopard could have — could have killed 
her before it met its own end?" 

Monty had gone pale. 

"No," he said, trying hard to reassure 
himself as well as Fred, "no, I don't 
think that. If the brute had attacked 
Barbara, surely there would have been 
more than this — this handkerchief left. 
But she's roaming at random through 
the jungle, and there's no telling what 
might happen to her. If we could only 
get out of here " 

He stared forlornly through the bars 
of the wooden cage, and his glance came 
to rest on a group of Shillov's native 
allies, who were squatting in the dust 
of the compound. There was a witch- 
doctor with them, a grotesque figure 
wearing the skull of an ox for a head- 
dress, and he was chanting some 
f gibberish to the negroes while they 
istened with wrapt attention. 

"Funny how these bushmen take for 
gospel everything that old bird tells 
them," Fred commented. "What's he 
saying, Kazimoto?" 

"Him make spells," the interpreter 
rejoined. "Cure all native people's ills. 
They very much 'fraid witch-doctor, 
January 28th, 1933. 


"Are you scared of him, too?" Monty 
put in all at once. 

"No, bwana," Kazimoto answered. 
"Me Christian; brought up mission 
school. Me no 'fraid witch-doctor." 

An idea had occurred to Monty, and 
he gripped Kazimoto by the arm. 

"That's fine," ho said. "You call 
that witch-doctor, and tell him we're 
both sick — see? Never mind why, but 
do as I tell you, and leave the rest to 

He retreated to a dim corner of the 
cage, stretched himself out there, and 
began to groan loudly, calling upon 
Fred to do the same. The latter obeyed 
wonderingly, and, just as nonplussed by 
Monty's plan, Kazimoto raised his voice 
and called to the witch doctor in an 
urgent tone. 

The medicineman looked round and, 
leaving the group of blacks, walked to 
the bars of the cage. Kazimoto imme- 
diately explained to him in the native 
dialect that his friends were sick, and 
needed attention, aud the witch-doctor 
was obviously flattered by the idea of 
white men invoking his powers. 

The man on guard at the gaol had 
approached also. He was a native, and 
when the witch-doctor spoke to him, he" 
unlocked the door cautiously. He was 
equally careful to fasten it again when 
the medicine-man passed inside. 

Kazimoto conveyed the witch-doctor 
to the dark corner in which Monty and 
Fred were huddled, and, while the 
grotesque heathen leaned over them and 
muttered incantations, the two young- 
sters continued to groan lugubriously, 
as if in the throes of some fever. 

Thus far Monty's scheme had suc- 
ceeded, and now he had only to wait 
until the native guard's back was 
turned. It was not long before this 
occurred, the sentinel growing weary of 
peering into the gloom, and pacing 
away with slow, measured tread. 

Monty suddenly straightened up, and 
seized the witch-doctor by the throat, 
and so unexpected was the attack that 
the wretch had no time to cry out. In 
the twinkling of an eye his head-dress 
had been stripped from him, and a 
blow from the young white man's fist 
knocked him senseless. 

"Kazimoto!" Monty jerked. "Here, 
put on this head-dress 1 Tell the guard 
to let you out of the cage, then close 
with him. We'll be right after you !" 

Kirk Montgomery's plan was now 
clear, and the interpreter hurriedly 
donned the witch-doctor's head-dress, 
which concealed his features entirely. 
When the disguise was adjusted to his 
satisfaction, he went to the door of the 
prison and hailed the sentry. 

The man came to the bars, and Kazi- 
moto indicated that ho wished to 
emerge. Believing him to be the witch- 
doctor, the sentry complied with the 
request, and the door was no sooner un- 
fastened than the interpreter pounced 
on him. 

The guard was taken completely by 
surprise, and had no chance to use his 
rifle, but he might have put up a stout 
resistance if Monty and Fred had not 
rushed to Kazimoto's assistance imme- 

The sentry was speedily disposed of 
then, and the three fugitives made a 
dash for a gate close by. They were 
clear of the stockade in a few seconds, 
and, heading for the jungle, plunged 
into the thickets ere they could be de- 

Kazimoto discarded the witch-doctor's 
head-dress, and then led the way 
straight towards the spot where he had 
picked up Barbara's handkerchief. The 

Every Tuesday 

body of the leopard was still there, but 
they could see no sign of the girl's foot- 
prints, and were compelled to choose a 
path at random. 

They wandered through the bush, and 
must have been travelling for almost 
half an hour when Kazimoto stopped 
and pointed to something about fifty 
paces away. 

"Something there," he said. "Close 
to that thicket." 

"It's a human being!" Monty ex- 
claimed. "It's — Barbara!" 

They ran forward, and were soon 
beside the girl. She was lying on her 
face, and, as Monty dropped to his 
knees and gathered her in his arms, 
he saw a bruise on her temple. 

"Barbara!" he panted. "Barbara, 
are you all right?" 

The girl made no response. There 
was an embedded snag of stone in the 
ground near by, and it was easy to guess 
that she had tripped, fallen and struck 
her head on it, rendering herself un- 

Monty was still striving to rouse her 
when Kazimoto uttered an exclamation 
and held up his hand to enjoin silence. 
Then he looked at his companions un- 

"I heard men coming," he murmured. 
"Maybe Shillov's. He send them out to 
look for Missy Barbara." 

Fred bit his lip. 

"We'd be in a fine fix if we ran into 
them now," he said, "unarmed." 

A moment afterwards however, the 
three friends were reassured, for, as 
the newcomers appeared in full view 
they recognised them as Morgan, Cout- 
lass and party, composed of their own 
black bearers and some warriors from 
the tribe of Chief Lazuma, their ally. 

Monty hailed them joyfully, and the 
shout was answered by Morgan and 
Coutlass. It was unfortunate for all 
concerned that the sound of their voices 
reached the ears of a strong safari 
marching along another jungle track— 
the detachment led by Krotsky. 

Krotsky stopped, and set his head on 
one side in an attentive attitude. Then 
he turned to his followers. 

"The shouts seemed to come from 
over there," he declared, pointing. 
"Come on; but be careful to make no 

They crept through the thickets, and 
a minute or two later they saw tho 
Morgan party grouped around Barbara, 
who had now recovered her senses, and 
Krotsky's eyes gleamed as he observed 

"Montgomery and Oakes must have 
escaped," he said to another white man 
by his side. "The girl's with them — 
the entire Morgan party's with them. 
Here's our chance to make a wholesale 
capture !" 

He turned to the rest of his com- 
panions and gave a signal, and next 
moment they were rushing from cover 
to assail their unsuspecting victims. 

Kazimoto was the first to see them, 
and he gave a shrill cry of warning. On 
the instant the Morgan safari wheeled 
to face the threatened attack, and at 
a glance they saw that they were out- 

Monty snatched a rifle from one of 
his bearers and spoke to the negro 

"Quick— back to the village!" he 
ordered. "Tell Lazuma— Shillov's men 
attack. Tell him send many warriore!" 

The black boy sped off, and Monty 
lifted the Winchester and fired into the 
midst of the oncoming swarm of foes, 
bringing down one of Shillov's bush- 
man allies with his first shot. 

Every Tuesday 

News from Afar. 

SURGING forward with loud yells, 
Krotsky's men poured in a volley 

from the hip, and the racketing 

-i of the fusillade resounded through 
the bush. It was succeeded by a medley 
of sharp cries and groans, as several 
of the Morgan party were hit, and blood 
stained the dust of the jungle track. 

"Give 'em rapid fire!" roared 

Kazimoto repeated the command in 
the native dialect, and the Morgan 
group blazed at their foes. Winchester 
and Colt revolver barked death, and the 
spears of Lazuma's detachment of 
warriors flashed through the air, adding 
to the toll of the bullets. 

Three or four of Krotsky's men were 
struck down, and the onrush of the sur- 
\ Ivors was checked. They scattered and 
nought what shelter they could find, but, 
v. ith numbers in his favour, Krotsky 
was not willing to prolong the affair into 
a long-distance duel. He was out to 
drive home a hand-to-hand onslaught 
that would overwhelm all resistance. 

With terse voice he despatched men 
to right and left, with instructions to 

op the rival party, and, as Monty 

those figures sneaking off through 
the thicket, he was thankful that he 
had had the presence of mind to send 
that courier to Lazuma's village ere the 
snare was complete, for there was a 
chance that help might arrive before it 
was too late. 

"They're going to surround us," 
Monty jerked. We'll have to hold 

i at bay as long as we can. Once 
they get close enough to rush, it's all 
up with us." 

They aimed at the fleeting forms of 
the enemies who were detouring. 

/ now and then the crack of a shot 
was followed by a scream, and a victim 
was seen to plunge headlong into the 
- oderbush. But t he majority of those 
stealthy forms gained the positions for 

i they were making, and presently 


a regular cordon of foes were around the 

The enemy began to edge closer, and 
their fire grew hotter. The Morgan 
party retaliated with leaden slug and 
sharp-tipped assegai, and Krotsky's men 
advanced but slowly, and with heavy 
casualties. Little by little, however, the 
ring was tightening, and there was still 
no sign of Lazuma's reinforcements. 

"They're getting ready to charge," 
Monty ground out. "It looks as if 
we're done for !" 

Even as he spoke the words, Krotsky 
leapt up into full view with a hoarse 
command on his lips, and the under- 
growth instantly became alive with 
bounding figures, speeding from all 
directions to engage the Morgan party 
in a fierce melee. 

Monty braced himself and all that were 
left of his companions followed his 
example. They challenged their an- 
tagonists' onset with a raking fusillade, 
then clubbed rifle and revolver as the 
tide of attack broke over them. 

Monty struck an assailant to the 
ground, but wa6 borne down an instant 
later by three more, and he had given 
himself up for lost when all at once there 
was a tumultuous din of yells, and from 
the rear a formidable body of warriors 
came racing towards the scene — the 
entire man-power of Lazuma's tribe, led 
by the chief in person. 

Monty's adversaries scrambled away 
from him, and ho struggled to his feet 
to see that Krotsky's men had been 
thrown into dire confusion by the 
appearance of the reinforcements. 
Krotsky himself was shouting the order 
to retreat, but he need not have wasted 
hi.s breath, for without waiting to offer 
battle his comrades took to their heels. 

With warlike cries Lazuma's men 
swept in pursuit, hurling their spears as 
they ran and picking off the hind 
Meanwhile, Monty was looking around 
to satisfy himself that his friends were 


safe and sound, and, though half the 
original party had been wiped out, he 
was thankful to 6ee that Barbara, her 
father, Kazimoto, and Fred were all un- 
harmed. Coutlass, too, had come off 
without a scratch, though it would have 
been no loss to the safari had he been 
lying among the dead. 

"Look at Lazuma's warriors making 
after that Shillov gang!" breathed 
Fred. "Gee, that's what I call turning 
the tables !" 

"Ay," growled Georges Coutlass, 
"and, by the twelve apostles, it's a pity 
that pig of a Shillov is not weeth them !" 

Monty was more concerned with the 
wounded than with the rout of the foe, 
and at once proposed carrying them back 
to the village for attention. The re- 
mainder of the party quickly fell in 
with this suggestion, and those who had 
been injured in the affray were lifted 
from the ground and conveyed in the 
direction of Lazuma's headquarters. 

The village was reached in twenty 
minutes, and shortly afterwards Lazuma 
and his warriors showed up there, the 
blades of their assegais red with blood. 
In the meantime, the wounded had 
made comfortable, and the whole ; tilt- 
joined in a feast and celebration to 
commemorate the rescue of their white 
friends and the repulse of their enemies. 

The little party of Europeans 
wa tohing the celebrations, and pre-' 
Barbara gave a sigh of relief. 

"It's wonderful to think that 
all safe," she declared, "and that we can 
go ahead with the search for poor J;. 

"Yes," Monty agreed, "and I 
think we should delay. The coa^t oi 
to be pretty clear for a spell, and " 

An exclamation from tieorges Cot 
interrupted him, and, turning his head, 

i w that the Greek was poin 
towards the edge of the clearing in 
which Lazuma's village stood. Set 
"s of a strange tribe had app< 
there, and each ono carrying a 

Tbe Morgan party retaliated with leaden slug and sharp-tipped assegai. 

Jaauary 28th, 1033. 


upon his shoulder, they stood hesitating 
on the fringe of the bush. 

"Ivory!" Coutlass ejaculated with an 
avaricious glint in his eyes. "I wonder 
where they found it." 

"Yes, I wonder where they found it," 
breathed Monty. "If we can make 
them talk, we may be able to locate Jack 
Morgan. For there's just a chance 
those tusks belonged to the buried 
treasure of Tipoo Tib. Kazimoto, ask 
them where they got that ivory." 

The interpreter went forward, and 
Monty and his companions filed after 
him eagerly. At their approach, two of 
the natives at the edge of the jungle 
made off as fast as their legs would 
carry them, but the others stood their 

Kazimoto spoke to them, and ex- 
changed a few words with them in the 
bush dialect. Then he turned to trans- 
late the conversation to Monty. 

"Blacks say they found ivory in great 
hole at Mount Elgon, other side big 
lake," he explained. 

"You mean the other side of Lake 
Tanganyika?" Monty asked. 

Kazimoto nodded. 

"Yes, bwana," he made answer. 
"Blacks say bad place — many 

"Tell them," Monty ordered, "that if 
they show us way to ivory we give them 
many presents." 

The interpreter continued his parley 
with the natives, and then glanced in 
Monty's direction again. 

"Blacks say white man send them 
with ivory and message for help," he 
announced. "He ask them to make way 
to any settlement of Europeans they 
can find. White man in great trouble." 

Barbara uttered a sharp cry. 

"That white man may be Jack!" she 

"It's possible," agreed Monty. "We'd 
better start bargaining with these 
natives. But wait a minute — ask them 
why those other two fellows ran away, 

Kazimoto obeyed, and after he had 
received an answer, a troubled expres- 
sion appeared on his face. 

"Bwana," ho told Monty, "two na- 
tives run away because they 'fraid when 
they see blood on spears of Lazuma's 
warriors. They make for Shillov's 

Monty pursed his lips. It was worse 
than useless to attempt overtaking the 
fugitives. By now they would have 
covered a fair amount of ground, and 
it would be a waste of valuable time to 
raise a hue and cry. 

"This means that Shillov will get the 
news within an hour," he ground out. 
"He's bound to follow it up as a clue, 
the same as we're doing, and it looks as 
if it's going to bo a race to Mount 

"You're right," Fred put in, "and 
we'd better get started. The safari can 
bo ready in ten minutes, and we'll set 
out immediately afterwards. We've a 
long tramp ahead of us, and it may 
mean travelling day and night." 

It did not take Kazimoto long to 
strike a bargain with the natives who 
had brought the tusks, and when these 
had announced their willingness to guide 
the party, the Morgan bearers were told 
to pack all supplies and equipment. 

Lazuma heard tho news of the safari's 
imminent departure with regret, and 
volunteered a number of his stoutest 
warriors. Thus in good shape for fight- 
ing as well as marching, the column 
moved out of the village, bidding faro- 
well to the many friends that had been 
made there. 

January 28th, 1033. 


Shillov Takes the Trait. 

WHILE Belle Waldron sat watching 
him through narrowed lids, Boris 
Shillov paced the living-room of 
his bungalow. He was scowling over the 
news of his prisoners' escape, which he 
regarded as a bitter blow, but ill-tidings 
were still to come, and Krotsky was the 
bearer of them. 

Krotsky appeared in the doorway 
tremulously, fearing the storm of wrath 
that was liable to break over him when 
Shillov heard what he had to say. 

"Well?" the renegade leader de- 
manded, as his henchman stood silent. 

Krotsky hung his head, and Shillov's 
eyes blazed. 

"Don't tell me you've failed to carry 
out my orders and recapture the Morgan 
girl?" he ground out. 

"Shillov," Krotsky protested, "Lazu- 
ma's entire tribe attacked us, over- 
whelmed us. We lost half our men." 

Shillov started to curse savagely, but 
his outburst was interrupted by a sudden 
shout in the compound, and, looking 
through a window, he saw two blacks 
carrying tusks of ivory — the natives who 
had fled from the vicinity of Lazuma's 

Shillov ' gave vent to an exclamation, 
and, with Belle and Krotsky at his 
heels, he hurried out of the bungalow 
and elbowed his way through a crowd 
of men who had gathered about the 

"Krotsky," he blurted, "ask them 
where they got N that ivory." 

His henchman obeyed, and from the 
two natives he learned what Monty and 
his friends already knew. Krotsky at 
once translated the story to his leader, 
and Shillov's eyes gleamed as he 
heard it. 

" And the Morgan party are in pos- 
session of this information, eh?" he 
said. "Well, we'll have to beat them 
to Mount Elgon, and if we come across 
them we'll massacre them to the last 
soul. Muster the whole camp, Krotsky 
—black men and white. These two na- 
tives will lead us, and we'll take the 
trail without delay." 

The Shillov safari was soon on the 
march, the procession being headed by 
the two guides, and ere night descended 
over the jungle they were many miles 
from the settlement. Still they pressed 
on, taking brief rests at long intervals, 
now filing through dense bush, and now 
across open savannah. 

Dawn of the next day found them 
just within British territory, in a remote 
tract of country near the foot of mighty 
Tanganyika. It took them another two 
days of forced marching to turn the 
mighty lake and leave it at their backs, 
and twenty-four hours later they were 
within sight of Mount Elgon, but 
separated from it by jungle. 

The whole company was crying out for 
rest, and, eager as he was to push on, 
Shillov agreed to pitch camp in the 
bush for the night. Tho equipment was 
dumped in a small clearing, and the 
men lay down to snatch a few hours' 
sleep, Shillov retiring to a tent that had 
been rigged up for him. 

He himself was in no mood for 
slumber, and presently he called Krotsky 
and Belle into his quarters. His hench- 
man entered first, and Belle a moment 
afterwards. The woman had insisted 
upon accompanying the expedition, and 
had good reaon for doing so, as Shillov 
might have suspected had he watched 
her more closely,, and seen tho thought- 
ful expression that was in her eyes 
whenever she looked at him. 

Shillov was seated at a collapsible 
table, and had poured out a stiff drink. 
He indicated a couple of chairs and a 

Every Tuesday 

bottle, told Krotsky and Belle to help 
themselves and then lifted his glass. 

"We haven't far to go now," he de- 
clared, "and I think we've outstripped 
the Morgan party. At any rate, I'm 
going to give you a toast — to my jvory." 

"To the ivory," rejoined Krotsky, 
gulping down his drink. 

Belle did not attempt to raise her 
glass. She was watching Shillov nar- 

"You call it your ivory, Boris," she 
said to Shillov, " but remember there 
are others to share in it. I haven't gone 
through ali this for nothing." 

Shillov 6neered at her. 

"You'll be paid for your services, 
Belle Waldron," he told her grutfiy, 
" such as they were. But the ivory 
belongs to my colony." 

"Don't forget your colony was started 
on money borrowed through my in- 
fluence," the woman snapped. 

"But I'll finish my colony with my 
own influence," Shillov retorted. "Once 
the ivory's in my grasp, I don't need 
anybody's help." 

Belle's face hardened, though Shil- 
lov's outlook was exactly what she had 
expected of the man. She 6at silent 
for a while, and then, when Shillov 
suggested splitting another bottle of 
liquor, she offered to fetch it from the 

She went out of the tent and moved 
across the clearing, and she was stand- 
ing in a pensive attitude when she heaid 
a footfall behind her and looked round 
quickly to see Krotsky. 

"Shillov can drink on," Krotsky mut- 
tered. "I'm going to turn in." 

"Shillov!" Belle spoke the name 
through clenched teeth. "That beast 
intends to have all the ivory himself." 

Kiotsky nodded. 

"Just what I was thinking," he 
growled, "and I'm beginning to believe 
that he'll use none of it for the colony, 
either. He'll probably leave us all Hat 
the first chance he gets." 

"Listen, Krotsky," Belle whispered, 
"in the last week or so I've hinted more I 
than once that you and I should strike 
up a partnership, and it's got to be now 
or never. How many of the men could 
you bank on?" 

Krotsky stared at her hesitantly for 
a moment, and then he gave her a look 
that told her ho was ready to throw in 
his lot with her. 

"We oan trust the whites," he said. 
"Like mc, they hate and fear Shillov. 
The blacks would bo with us, too — all 
except N'goma, Shillov's personal ser- 
vant. " 

"Good!" Bello murmured. "Organise] 
tho whole party and bo ready for an 
early start." 

"But what about Shillov?" Krotsky 
muttered uneasily. "There's not a man 
among us who isn't afraid of him, 

The woman eyed him scornfully. 

"If that's how you feel about him," 
sho said, "leave him to me. I've a 
drug that I can use in his next chink, 
and some rope is all I need. You can 
attend to N'goma." 

They separated. Belle going towards 
Shillov's tent. She entered it, and was 
in there for some little time, and when 
sho emerged again tho whole camp was 
astir — except for tho figure of N'goma, 
tho black, who Lay with a knife-wound 
between his shoulders. 

"Have you settled Shillov?" Krotsky 
asked Belle. "Are you — are you sure 
ho can't follow us?" 

"He'll rot here, my friend — rot 
here," tho woman answered. "I'd have 
finished him with his own revolver, 
after the drug took effect, but I want 


Every Tuesday 

liiai to wake up and find himself help- 
less and deserted. Come on, let's move 

The safari started to march, and soon 
their tread had died away into the 
prevailing silence of the clearing, a 
silence that lasted till daybreak, when 
the creatures of the bush began to greet 
the rising sun with their strange chorus 
of voices. 

Shillov awoke, too — with a sick head- 
ache that was an after-effect of the 
drug he had received. For several 
seconds he lay staring at the roof of 
his tent, and it was not until he 
attempted to move that he realised he 
o uid hand and foot. 

The truth dawned on him, and he 
started to curse and rave. Then he 
gave a shout, and the shout was an- 
swered by a faint groan, for, though 
mortally wounded, X'goma had not suc- 
cumbed to's knife-thrust as 
quickly as the latter had imagined, but 
had lain in a semi-conscious condition 
all through the night, slowly bleeding 
to death. 

lark crawled to the tent, and he 
m.-.naged to cut Shillov loose. It was 
his last act ere sinking lifeless to the 
ground, and it was an act that the 
bearded renegade did not deserve, for 
he spurned the negro's dead body out 
of his path as ho strode forth into 
the clearing. 

On to Mount Elgon. 

THE Morgan party had moved even 
more rapidly than the safari led 

by Shillov and Belle Morgan, but 
mder on the part of their guides 
had taken then) along the wrong trail 
and cost ; ■" :;i pre< ious hours of delay. 

The mistake had an important sequel, 
or, for about the time that 
Shillov awoke to find himself aban- 
doned they came upon a native village, 
and here tiny learned beyond all doubl 
that they wcro close to the long-lost 
Jack Morgan. 

of the v illage v. ore peace 
able enough, and informed them that 
they had among them an aged Arab 
who knew the white man of Mount 
Elgon. Within a few minutes, Monty 
and his friends were grouped around a 
rude pallet on which the "Id Moslem 

He was dying, but with his failing 
breath he managed to tell them 
thing of the man they sought. 

"I am Hassan," he «l. "I 

was faithful servant of white explorer. 
W find ■ m.j of Tipoo Tib. Then 
cannibals eome. Wo hide in caves of 
Mount Elgon. Many wicks pa-s, and 
each time wo try to . v.e End 

locked v. ith 'in inn . Hut one 
night I tnali alone. I reach 

Wlloi >nl then f fall sick. Very 

-I go to my fathers. It i 

wd» of Allah- " 

This white man of whom you 
speak." Monty broke in, "what u . 
name " 

"He is called Bwana Jack," the 
dying Arab murmured. "Bwana Jack 
Morgan. Jle is in great trouble. 
Maybo dead by now " 

Thi ' '• ,,,„ party lost no lime in 
taking thi ■ again, but, a mil< 

n id of |), em, the band led by It. lie 

the objec- 

•ive, and at, high noon the adventu 

'ulrelly a ii:n d 

flpr first clear of the mount. 

1 is a forbidding mass of cliffs, 

pitted with sinister caverns, and, as 

1 and her safari stole towards it 

I undergrowth, they saw 

«i crowd of armed and tattooed blacks 

in the foreground. 


They were obviously picketing the 
place, and, signalling a halt, Belle 
spoke to Krotsky. 

"These natives are bound to be hos- 
tile," she said, "but we're strong 
enough to drive them off. Now, listen, 
if we find Jack Morgan, don't mention 
his people. We want that ivory, and, 
if we're going to locate it, we've got 
to fool him into thinking we're 
friends. " 

"I understand," Krotsky rejoined, 
and then, turning, he repeated Belle's 
commands to the rest of the safari. 

They nodded, and Krotsky gripped 
his rifle. 

"Come on, then." he ordered, and 
with a loud huzza i he gang of ruffians, 
white men and black, leapt from cover. 

They opened fire as they ran, and the 
storm of lead struck clown half a dozen 
of the cannibals. But the survivor- 
wheeled io meet the surprise attack, 
and with warlike yells they hurled their 
assegais at the oncoming safari. 

Belle had remained in the under- 
growth, and Azu, her coloured hand- 
maid, was with her. But even there 
they were not out of danger, for a 
random spear plunged into Azu'.s heart, 
and with a sob the native girl fell back. 

The cannibal assegais took heavy toll 
of Krotsk_\'s men, but, since the safari 
had the advantage of numbers, the 
primitive weapons of the bushmen were 
of little avail against bullets, and 
within live minutes the tribesmen had 
been wiped out. Belle emerged from 
cover then, and she was approaching 
'her accomplices when a tattered figure 
stumbled from one of the mountain 

lie was bearded and haggard, ami 
Belle would never have recognised him 
as the Jack Morgan with whom she had 
been acquainted in far-off Zanzibar. 


But it was undoubtedly he, for ho 
called her name tremulously, and hur- 
ried forward with outstretched hand. 

"Belle, is it really you?" he panted. 
*'I can hardly believe my eyes. I've 
been skulking in these caves for weeks 
— dodging these cannibals you've just 
massacred, stealing out at nights to get 
what food I could lay hands on. It — it 
ali seems like a nightmare" 

Belle shot a glance in Krotsky's direc- 
tion, and then spoke to Jack Morgan. 

"Your troubles are over at last," she 
said. "When I eventually got news of 
von. I organised a safari at once. 
You're among friends now, Jack. 
We've tramped miles to re-cue you and 
help you to carry orF Tipoo Tib's 

Jack Morgan laughed huskily. 

"Ir will take many safaris to movo 
that ivory." lie answered. "Wo can 
only take back a -mall part o_f it, and 
we'll have to return again and again 
In fore it's all shifted." 

"Where is it?" Belle demanded, her 

voice pent mi with eagerness. 

"I'll show you in good time," Jack 
Morgan answered. "But right now I 
need food — white man's food." 

"We have plenty," put in Krotsky. 
"Our stores are oil the edge of the 
jungle. We'll " 

They were not destined to concern 
themselves with supplies just then, how- 
ever, for at that moment one of's companions gave an exclama- 
tion, and pointed towards a group of 
figures which were marching from the 

Belle instantly recognised them as the 
Morgan party, and a look of chagrin 
crossed her face, for the arrival of 
Jack's true rescuers could not have been 
more inopportune. As for Krotsky, ho 
shouted a harsh command that sent his 
men to the cover of a cluster of rocks, 

" He is called Bwana Jack," the dying Arab murmured. "Bwana 
Jack Morgan. He Is in great trouble. Maybe dead by now I " 

January 28th, 1933. 


and next second they were opening fire 
on the newcomers. 

Monty and his friends ducked down 
in the "undergrowth and answered the 
fusillade, and, with the lead flying thickly 
around him, Jack Morgan was forced 
to seek shelter with Belle and her gang 
of accomplices. He crouched there while 
the blasts of musketry rang in his ears 
»nd the shots whistled among the 

Krotsky's band had been thinned out 
by the engagement with the cannibals. 
and for once the Morgan party had the 
advantage in man-power. One of the 
first to be hit was Krotsky himself, and 
he dropped lifeless with a bullet in hu 
rascally brain. Less than a minute 
afterwards, Belle Waldron was struck 
by a slug that ricocheted off a rock on 
her left, and she died at Jack Morgan's 

Tour more of the Shillov gang fell, 
and a final rush by the Morgan safari 
overwhelmed the remnants. And Jack 
Morgan himself might have shared the 
fate of the rogues had he failed to place 
Monty as the latter was on the point 
of clubbing him down with a rifle. 

"Kirk Montgomery!" he gasped. 

Monty 6tepped back, peered at that 
bearded scarecrow of a man, then let 
out a whoop. 

"Mr. Morgan, Barbara," he yelled, 
"it's Jack!" 

Barbara and her father came hurrying 
to the spot, and there amid the rocks a 
joyful reunion took place, during which 
the treachery of Belle Waldron was 
made known to Jack. Then food was 
brought, and. after his first square meal 
in months, the young explorer obtained 
a complete change of clothes and a wel- 
come shave. 

He was something like his old self 
again when the subject of the ivory was 
broached, and he prepared to disclose 
the whereabouts of the treasure, none 
listening more attentively than Georges 

"A couple of hours' journey along 
that trail," Jack Morgan said, indicat- 
ing a track that cut through the jungle, 
" there is a stone cairn. Under it is an 
iron box, and in this box is a map that 
shows the exact location of the cave 
where Tipoo Tib's treasure is buried." 

Coutlass waited to hear no more, but 
sneaked away, thinking to secure that 
map and then force the Morgan party 
to come to terms. He had been gone 
for some minutes before his absence was 
discovered, and it was with some con- 
sternation that Monty explained the 
ti reek's character to Jack, but the latter 
only smiled. 

"Don't worry," he said. "I haven't 
any need of that map. I've been con- 
fined to the caves for weeks, and know 
them like the palm of my own hand. By 
the time Coutlass finds the chart and 
gets to the location, we'll 'be there ahead 
of him. Come on, we'll get started 

The Last of Tungu. 

BLUNDERING through the jungle, 
Shillov came to the bank of a 
river infested with crocodiles, and, 
turning to follow its course, he had 
tramped for about half an hour when 
he suddenly perceived a figure on tho 
other side of some thickets. 

His hand went to the butt of his re- 
volver as he recognised Coutlass, and 
he was tempted to shoot the Greek in 
cold blood there and then. But the 
man's strange behaviour held his in- 
terest, and he stood quite still, watching 
January &Sth, 1933. 


Coutlass was kneeling beside a small 
cairn — that same pile of stones which 
Jack Morgan had mentioned — and 
presently Shillov saw him drag forth an 
iion box. The Greek opened this, and 
produced a map, which he began to 
study, and he was poring over the chart 
when Shillov stepped clear of the 
thickets and moved up behind him. 

"Give me that map, Coutlass!" Shil- 
lov snarled. 

The Greek whipped round in alarm, 
made an attempt to reach for his 
holster, but saw that he was covered, 
and reluctantly threw the chart at 
Shillov 's feet. 

The big man picked it up warily, still 
keeping Coutlass at the end of his gun. 
Then lie dropped his eyes to the map, 
and the first glance told him what it 

"Tipoo Tib's ivory, eh?" he grunted. 

Coutlass took his life in his hands and 
made a desperate lunge at Shillov, but, 
though the latter's attention had been 
momentarily diverted to the document 
he was holding, he was still on his 
guard, and with a curse he shot the 
Greek at point-blank range. 

Coutlass fell groaning, and, spurning 
his body with his foot, Shillov turned 
away from him contemptuously. Then 
he came to an abrupt standstill, for 
from the branches of a tree a few paces 
distant a creature that was half man 
and half ape dropped nimbly to the 

"Zungu!" Shillov jerked, and 
started back in alarm. 

Zungu it was, and, with vengeance 
in his semi-human soul, that mighty 
denizen of the bush must have tracked 
Shillov from the country beyond Lake 
Tanganyika. Now, with wide-spread 
hands and heaving chest, he moved 
towards the renegade, and from his 
throat there burst that harsh, bellow- 
ing roar that spelled death for his 

Shillov's gun was still in his hand, 
and automatically he fired. Zungu re- 
coiled, and, through a mist of blue 
smoke, the white man saw the blood 
spurt from a wound in the creature's 
breast and clot his matted hair. But, 
with an effort that defied the mortal 
injury, the giant of the bush hurled 
himself upon the foe and tore the re- 
volver out of his grasp, flinging it far 
into the thickets. 

Shillov screamed, and, screaming, was 
seized by throat and leg. He struggled 
madly, but, despite his considerable 
strength, he was as a child in the ape- 
man's terrible grasp. 

Coutlass was the only witness of what 
ensued, and, huddled in the dust with 
a bullet in his ribs, he stared like one 
fascinated. He saw Zungu lift Shillov 
above his head, and three times the 
renegade was dashed to the ground with 
a fore* that, must have broken bones in 
his body. Then, with a howl of execra- 
tion, the giant of the bush tossed the 
mangled figure of his enemy out into 

Shillov fell with a splash, and from 
the muddy banks of the stream evil 
reptile forms slid into the water and 
cruised towards their prey with up- 
raised 6nouts. Shillov came to the sur- 
face, and floundered helplessly — dazed 
and in pain, but still conscious enough 
to realise his impending doom and to 
shriek out in terror. 

Coutlass turned his head. He did 
not see Shillov dragged under, food for 
crocodiles. He did not see the flurry 
of the waters as Shillov made his last 
vain struggle. He only saw Zungu sink- 

Every Tuesday 

ing down upon the ground, with his 
lite-blood ebbing fast 

The Morgan party were assembled in 
a cave an hour's march from the spot 
where Belle Morgan and her accomplice* 
had met their doom. They were stand- 
ing on the edge of a flit of grer.t depth, 
like the one into which Monty hail so 
nearly plunged far off in the Shillov 
country a week or two before. 

Kazimoto had been lowered into the 
pit by means of a rope, and this had 
been paid out to its limit when Monty 
gave a hail. 

"Do you see anything, Kazimoto?" 
he called. 

"I see ivory," came the remoie 
answer, delivered in a tone of awe. 
'"Many, many tusks— so many that no 
man could count them." 

They had reached the end of tho 
trail that had brought them into the 
heart of Dark Africa. Jack Morgan was 
safe and sound, and it now remained to 
take as many tusks as they could and 
then arrange for regular convoys to 
pick up the rest. In the meantime, it 
seemed fitting to return to the nearest 
friendly village and pitch camp for the 

Dusk found them at the native settle- 
ment where they had questioned old 
Hassan, the dying Arab, and Monty and 
Barbara had stolen away to a quiet spot 
when Fred suddenly approached them. 

"Hey, Monty," the youngster an- 
nounced, "the chief of this tribe has 
just told us that he has eighteen wives." 

"Yes?" Monty rejoined. "Well, all 
I want is one." 

He slipped his arm around Barbara, 
and the girl was smiling up at him when 
there was a movement in a thicket near 
by, and next moment the figure of 
Georges Coutlass reeled into view. 

He had one hand pressed to his ril*>, 
but he was not wounded dangerously, or 
he could never nave reached the village, 
and there was still plenty of bombast in 
his voice when he spoke. 

"Meester Montgomery, Meester Mont- 
gomery," he gasped, "at last I reach 
here. I, Georges Coutlass, who went 
forth into the jungle alone to find that 
pig Shillov. With my own hands I kill 
him, and now, by the twelve apostle*, 
I claim my ten per cent of the ivory." 

Monty was in too cheerful a mood to 
feel impatient towards the man, and hfl 
could not help smiling at his persistence. 

"Coutlass." he declared, "the Govern- 
ment will claim a good deal of it. and 
Jack Morgan will have the most 6ay in • 
sharing out what's left. But I'll tel! 
what I'll do— I'll suggest to him that lie | 
gives you a tenth of what you claim, 
which will be precisely one per cent " 

"One per cent!" the Greek cried. 
"Ungrateful jackal— after all I have 
done '." 

"Precisely one per cent." Monty re- 
peated, grinning at him, "and I'm not 
too sure that that isn't confoundedly 
high pay — for services mis-rendered." 

(Don't miss next week's grand number 
of your favourite film paper. It contains 
the opening episode of a thrilling new 
CANS," two long complete film stones, 
and a grand art plate of BUCK JONES, 
and a splendid FOLDING WALLET, 
FREE! This art plate is the first of a 
scries of 12, so why not place a regular 
order with your Newsagent, otherwise 
you may not get a full set and be dis- 

Every Tuesday 


(Continued from page 12.) I 

you'll be safe. Cross by the shallows, 
and then send the bronc back to me." 

"Send him back to you?" she echoed. 
"Will he come back to you?" 
Tom patted the animal's sleek neck. 
"Don't forget you're riding Tony, 
Nora," he said to the girl, "and don't 
forget I broke him in myself. He re- 
members rue all right, and he'll find me 
ii" you put him on the road. Won't you, 

"But what are you going to do, 
Tom?" Nora demanded. 
' c "I'm going to try and get the bank's 
money, " Tom answered grimly. "Go 
ahead now, Nora, and do as I tell you." 
He turned and started to run after 
Doc Griffin, who was still in view; and, 
fearful as she was for her foreman's 
safety, Nora obeyed his instructions and 
galloped northward in the direction of 
the river. 

Spike Weber and Big Ben Cooper 

were left alone in the little clearing, and 

for several minutes they lay like dead 

men. But both were breathing, and 

ently they began to stir themselves. 

Spike struggled up. There was smoke 

in hi.s nostrils, and clouds of it were 

sweeping across the glade. He could 

hear the roar of flames, too, and the 

crash of great trees toppling in the heart 

le woods. The fire was desperately 

close, and as he saw the glare of it in 

the underbrush a fit of terror seized the 


Blood was flowing from his wound, 
and he felt faint and sick. But he 
summoned up the strength to 6toop over 
Ben Cooper and shake him. 

"Get up!" he managed to say. 

"Come on, Ben— get up." 

The big bruiser uttered a hollow 

1 groan. He had a bullet in his chest, and 

ris condition was even worse than 

Spike's, but with the little man's aid lie 

able to gain hie feet. 

The two crooks staggered from the 

clearing, but, wounded as they were, 

they made poor progress. Often they 

foil, and only the horror of the inferno 

at their back drove them on, but they 

could not outstrip the flames, and soon 

the fire was abreast of them— ahead of 

They kept to a beaten track. On 
either hand the brush was alight, and 
hing heat played upon their 
bodies. They saw tongues of fire run- 
tiin',' up the trunks of the trees, de- 
vouring bark, boughs and foliage. 
Still they reeled forward, but they were 
Growing weaker, and their steps were 

I hey were in the thick of the blaze 
now, and the blistering flames and the 
Suffocating smoke aggravated their 
1, At last Hit-' Ben plunged face- 

downward, and he could do no more 
e himself to his elbows. 
I > make it— Spike," he croaked. 

•link (Jriflin • he did for me— 
■ben lie plugged me back there. I— 
make it." 
"(Jet, up. Ben," Spike gasped. "The 
I all around us." 
Ight hold of one of the big 
man's arms, and tu bly. He 

•ill pulling at him when there was 
■ud elose at hand, 
tant 'lie trunk of a flaming 
•j to the ground 

;< 'i rati 1 Bon ' 00] 



Spike stumbled away, appalled by his 
companion's fate, appalled by the nar- 
rowness of his own escape. For fully a 
minute he stared in horror at the broken 
body of the other man, lying dead under 
that burning log, and then he lurched 
away from . the scene. 

Nemesis had overtaken Big Ben 
Cooper, and ruthless Nature had avenged 
the death of the prison guard, fulfilling 
the man-made law that demanded a life 
for a life. As for Spike, who had never 
been a killer whatever other criminal 
characteristics he possessed, he was 
spurred onward by abject panic until 
he sank exhausted. 


The Last of Griffin. 
UNNING hard through the woods, 
Tom was able to keep Doc Griffin 
in sight, and at the same time he 
did his best to prevent the fight- 
manager from discovering the fact that 
he was being shadowed. 

Griffin's hope of overtaking the horse 
which he had attempted to follow was 
destined not to be realised, and he lost 
all trace of it within five minutes of 
leaving the clearing. He pressed on in 

Thrilling Complete Yarns 


Xo. 13 of the Boys' Womler Library 

This stirring yarn is filled with the 
romance and adventure of the 
Spanish Foreign Legion. Courage 
and high endeavour in the flaming 
deserts is the theme of one of the 
most exciting stories ever written. 


Xo.14 of the Hoys' Wonder Library 

Who was the strange new boy to 
whom danger came in an English 
public school ? What was his 
secret ? Read this entirely different 
school story and share the peril 
and adventures that betel Michael 
and his schoolboy chums. 



world of flame. Trees, grass and under- 
brush burned all around him, and the 
fear of death seized the scoundrel, bring- 
ing the sweat to iiis brow. 

Tom raced in pursuit of the man. 
Once a flaming trunk crashed within a 
few feet of him, and a shower of sparks 
enveloped him. But he escaped in- 
jury, and, leaping the fallen log, con- 
tinued the chase. 

He was steadily overtaking Griffin, 
and was scarce thirty paces from him 
when the crook chanced to turn his 
head. He checked as he caught sight 
of Tom, and with an oath lie whipped 
round to face him, dragging his gun 
from his pocket even as he did so. 

Griffin levelled the revolver, taking 
deliberate aim, and no effort on Tom's 
part could have saved him from the 
bullet. But, as the fight-manager was 
in the act of pulling the trigger, there 
was a rending of wood behind him, and 
the .sound diverted his attention at the 
critical instant of firing. 

The gun bellowed, and the .shot 
whined past Tom's cheek. Griffin had 
wheeled again, and was gaping in horror 
at a massive oak-tree that was tottering 
at its ba>e, where flames had eaten deep 
into it. 

The great trunk was falling towards 
the Doc, and with a hoarse cry he tried 
ring aside. But he had seen his 
peril too late, and the forest giant 
dashed him to the ground under its 
huge bulk, pinning his lifeless body to 
ouldering grass. 
l).ic Griffin had paid the same penalty 
as Big Ben Cooper, and when Tom 
hurried forward, one glance at the 
man's face was enough to tell him that 
he was dead. Indeed, his face and one 
hand were all that the cowboy could 
see of him, for the rest of hint was 
buried under the trunk of the oak-tree. 
The suit-case (hat contained the bank 
funds lay beside Griffin, and, picking it 
up, Tom set out in the direction of the 
river. He was beginning to suffer 
1 ly from the effects of the smoke, 
and, with the fire raging more furiously, 
he knew that he would never be able 
to escape on foot. Everything depended 
upon the horse, Tony, and he began to 
shout the animal's name at the top of 
his voice. 

the same direction, however, and he 
had travelled a mile before it dawned 
on him that the tide of forest fire was 
drawing perilously near to him. 

Griffin changed his course, but his 
somewhat vague knowledge of the 
woods only led him into worse straits, 
lb found the way blocked by dense 
thickets through which the flames were 
roaring greedily, and he promptly 
d back. 
Concealed behind some bushes, Tom 
watched him intently. It was the cow- 
boy's object to draw as close to him 
lOsrible, and then spring at him 
- he could use the revolver he was 
rag, and, had Griffin passed within 
ing distance of the spot where Tom 
bad ducked down, the latter would have 
lekled hirn there and then. 

But the crook did not come that way, 
and Tom was forced to resume his grim 
e of hide-and-seek. Darting from 
the bushes, he took after Griffin again, 
trailed him until the man found 
himself balked by a wall of fire once 

Griffiu swung northward in a blind 

t for safety, but the bla/.e had 

ed round like a cordon, and as 

he sped on he plunged deeper into a 

Once safely across the river, Nora dis- 
mounted and turned Tony's head in 
the direction of the burning forest 
again. Then, hoping against hope that 
drone would prove as intelligent 
and as faithful as Tom had declared, sha 
smacked him across the hindquarters 
with the palm of her hand. 

"Go back, Tony!" she panted. "Get 
Tom — go on !" 

The horse retraced its steps through 
the shallows of the river, set foot 011 
the far bank and then galloped into the 
woods. Ere long it was amid the smoke 
and flames of the forest fire once more, 
but it did not falter, and was careering 
into the heart of the inferno when it 
heard Tom's shouts. 

The voice came from the left, and 
Tony swerved in answer to it. Thirty 
• Is later the broil,: Sighted its 
former master, and, before another half- 
minute had elapsed, Tom was in the 

He was on the point of spurring away 
when he distinguished a feeble eiy, and, 
looking round, he saw a figure lying on 
a track about fifty yards away. It was 
the figure of Spike Weber, and, riding 
towards him, the cowboy dismounted 
beside tho wounded crook. 

"Tom," Spike moaned, "Tom, don't 
leave me." 

January 28th, 1933. 


"No, I won't do that." the cowboy 
assured him, with a genuine feeling of 
pity for the man. '"But where's Ben 
—Big Ben Cooper?" 

"Doneffor," Spike breathed. "I left 
him back there. He was dead, Tom — 
and — and burnin' •" 

He shuddered, and then suddenly 
catching sight of the suit-case, lie looked 
at Tom in awe. 

"You got it." he murmured. 

'"Yes." Tom answered, "and Doc 
Griffin is done for, too.' 

"I— I don't want any o* that dough,*' 
Spike blurted. ''It's blood-money. Tom. 
and you can have it. First there was 
that guard — back at the pen. You're 
tough, Tom., an' a killer, but I never 
did hold with murder " 

The cowboy interrupted him. 

"I'm no killer, Spike," lie stated. 
"You might as well know the truth 
now. I only came into the prison to 
hud out. what happened to this money. 
I've been workin' for the police all 
along — though they don't seen; to be- 
lieve it now." 

"Workin' for the police."' Spike 
reiterated. "Then that means I'm — 
goin' back to chokey. Well, I — I ain't 
carin' much." 

"I'll have to turn you over." Tom 
muttered, "but I'll tell you this much — 
when I clear my own name I'll put in 
a good word for you. Meantime we've 
gotta get out of here." 

He had helped Spike to his feet while 
he had been talking, and now he lifted 
him into the saddle. Then he climbed 
up in front of him. 

"Hang on, Spike," he said. "Here 
we go." 

The little prizefighter clutched him, 
and Tom sent hie bronc forward with 
a pressure of the heels. Away tin v gal- 
loped, and, though their faces wen 
smirched and their clothes singed, they 
gained the river without a hitch, 

Nora was wailing on the far bank, 
and when he reached her Torn indi- 
cated the suitcase. But she hardly 
noticed the triumphant gesture. 

"Thank heavens you're safe," she told 
him. "Listen, Tom, I just saw the 
posse ride by. I didn't call to them, 
because I didn't know what you 
planned to do. Everybody thinks you've 

turned criminal " 

' "A while back," Tom mentioned. 
"You advised mc to give myself up, 

"Yes," she admitted, "and I still do. 
When you return that money it should 
prove your innocence" 

"That's just what I aim to do," he 
declared. "Spike, you carry this suit- 
case, and keep a tight hold on it. 
Nora, you climb up beside me." 

He held out his hand to the girl, and 
pulled her into the saddle. A moment 
afterwards Tony was trotting off with 
the three of them. 

"Nora," Torn observed, "I've squared 
myself with you, and. after I've squared 
myself with the law and squared up at 
the bank, Buppose you and I go along 
and see if we can square ourselves with 
— a minister?" 

Nora looked at him with shining eyes. 

"You mean you want to marry me, 
Tom?" she faltered. 

"That's what I'm tryin' to say. young 
lady," he told her. 

"Okay, Tom," she whispered, and he 
slipped his arm about her waist to draw 
her closer 

(By permission of Universal Pictures, 

Ltd., starring Tom Mix and Judith 

January 2Sth, 1088. 




(Contioaed from page 18.) 

them, and Bob snatched it up and 
tossed it several feet away. 

"Gel out of here, you skunks," he 
roared. "And it vou dare to come back 
I'll half-kill you." 

Jessin dragged himself to his feet, a 
sneer on his face. 

"Why not send for the police?" he 
asked ironically, and. as he spoke, ho 
edged closer to Bob. "It's because 
you're afraid, isn't it? That precious 
sister of Alan Harlan might find out 
what her beloved brother has been 
doing " 

He suddenly sprang, intending to 
take B<i!j by surprise. But Bob had 
watching his movements, and, as 
Jessin came towards him, he stepped 
on one side and caught the crook by 
the throat. 

He flung Jessin backwards, and the 
crook cr-nnoned into hi- two confeder- 
ates. They glared at Bob, hate in their 
eve- for a few moments, then Jessin 
exchanged glance? with one of his men. 
The man gave the slightest of nods. 

Jessin turned back to Bob, grinning 

"AH right. We'll go. Cood-night. 
Mister Stuart." 

They passed down the slipway to a 
motor-boat, and a few minutes later 
the chug-chug of their engine died 
away in the night. 

Bob waited until they had gone, then 
went, to the telephone and called up the 
hospital. Forbes showed no signs of 
regaining consciousness, and seemed 
seriously hurt. 

An ambulance came at last, and 
Forbes was taken away. Bob spent the 
remainder of his vigil alone. 

The Race of Death. 

WHEN morning came, there was a 
shock for Bob and his father. 
Mr. Harrington, the Govern- 
ment official in whose power lay the 
granting of the contract Mr. Stuart 
Wanted, arrived at the general office. 

"Good-morning, Mr. Stuart." he said 
affablv. "What time is the race to be 
run ' " 

''Race?" said the old man. "What 

"Why, the race between your speed- 
boat and Jessin's, of course." said 
Harrington. "Mean to say you didn't 
know ?" 

Tho old man gulped back the "No" 
that came to his lips. 

'Just a — a minute," he said. "My 
son Bob knows all about that side of 
the business. I'll send for him." 

He touched a bell and an office-boy 
canu in. H L was told to find Bob anil 
bring him back at once. In less than a 
minute Bob oame in. 

"Hey, Bob, about that race with 
Jessin lo-day — 'are we ready for it?" 
said the old man. 

Bob started, and was about lo say 
ihing when the look on the old 
man'.- face stopped him. It would not 
do_ (o let Mr. Harrington think any- 
thing unusual was afoot. 

"Quite ready." he replied, "except 
for ono or two minor adjustments. 
Whit time will suit you, Mr. Harring- 
t on '. " 

"Well, about midday Jessin said in 

his not.." Harrington replied. "I 

-liit I'd look you up early to make 

knew all about it. As you do, 

Every Tuesday 

icn oinor Ji«e a couple or 

tploded Bob after a whileB 
J know about that for casW 

I'll run along to my office, and retur 
hero shortly before twelve. So long." 

He went, leaving father and sol 
gaping at each other like a couple oj 
prize idiots. 

"Well," ex 
"what do you 

iron nerve? Jessin arranged the race! 
thinking that perhaps we couldn't goi 
ready in time." 

The old man chuckled. 

"Just wait until he sees our craft offl 
the water !" he said gleefully. 

A worried frown appeared on Bob'J 

"Someone tried to tamper with tho- 
boat last night," he said, and explained! 
what had taken place. "I've been overt? 
her pretty carefully, but I can't find] 
anything wrong, so I reckon I din 
turbed them before they had time tol 
do any mischief." 

The old man patted Bob on the baekl 

"You're a good lad, Bob," he saidS 
"I don't know what I should do with-J 
out you. Come on, let's go down to 
the shops." 

They spent the time between then audi. 
twelve in getting the speedboat into I ha 
water and warming up the engines. 

Mr. Harrington returned to the shop* 
sharp on time, and Mr. Stuart had himl 
brought out on to the tiny quay at' 
which the boat was now moored. 

The old man pointed to the eraftf 

"There she is," he said. "She'll bcaS 
any sea-going boat of her class." 

Harrington pursed his lips doubt* 

"I've heard that she's likely to de 
velop trouble when she's all out," h 
said. "An error in design, or sonr 

Old man Stuart's face went purple 

"Who told you that?" he demanded. 

"Oh, I just heard it, that's all!" said 
Harrington evasively. "Things like- 
that have a habit of getting about." 

"Huh!" The old man poked an in- 
dignant finger at Harrington. "Let me 
tell you that a Stuart-built boat doesn't 
develop trouble at any speed. When 
we put a craft on the water, she's the 
finest that can be built by man. What's 
more, we're going to win to-day. You 
can take that as a certainty." 

Harrington was apologetic. 

"Sorry if I said anything that annoyed 
you, Mr. Stuart," he said politely. "I 
hope you do win, because I'm giving the 
contract to the fastest boat, and I'd like 
you to have it." lie glanced at his 
watch. "Well, shall we go?" 

The old man led him to a launch, and 
they went out into the harbour, where a 
second speed-boat was waiting for them. 
Tiie course that had been chosen by 
Harrington was around three buoys 
about a mile apart, and the two boats 
were to start together, irrespective of 
engine-power or weight. 

With a healthy roar, Bob appeared in 
the harbour in his craft, and lined up 
against that of Jessin's. Jessin's was 
powerful looking, and seemed likely to 
be pretty fast, but it was not that which 
gained Bob's attention. 

In the cockpit of the rival boat was 
none other than McCary. 

The race was going to be a bitter one. | 

"Stand by!" roared Harrington 
through a megaphone. "Listen, all. 
This race is to be a test of speed and 
navigability. You are to follow the 
ordinary racing rules about fouling the 
buoys and each other — beyond that jour 
business is to prove to me that you are 
fast and seaworthy. I will fire a pistol 
for ready, and a second pistol for the 

Bob glanced over bis engines con- 
fidently. They were Gring evenly, and 

Every Tuesday 

the gases from the open exhausts were 
white, hot, and clear. 

Crack ! 

Bob eased in his clutch and edged in 
towards the starting-line. Having 
reached it, he reversed for a few seconds, 
and checked his way. 

He was all ready now for a standing 


He put in his clutch again and eased 
his throttle forward. The great engines 
roared like a pair of machine-guns, and 
he felt the sturdy hull shoot forward 
under him. 

The rival boat almost leapt out of the 

er. Its pilot, McCary, had given her 

ihe full power of his engines almost from 

the moment of the shot, and had placed 

himself a clear two lengths ahead. 

Bob did not worry. He was not going 
to risk oil trouble like that. Good 
engines paid for being nursed. 

lie went on edging his throttle open, 

and the engiru up their speed 

lily. Then he pushed it open wide, 

and let them take all the petrol they 


Their response was magnificent. The 
bows of the craft rose well from the 
water, and she shot forward with 
iug -peed. 

Bub watched his instruments, and 
grinned with satisfaction. The ei - 

■ turning at jn-t over three thousand 
revolutions per minute, and both pro- 
pellor --hufts were spinning evenly. The 
knot -met. i '- needle was .. avering at 

Bob bore down ii|>on the craft ahead 
with inexorable swiftneea, and came 
abeam. From that moment there v. 

'ion which was th< boat. 

Jessin's craft was nothing compared with 

Harrington, standing up in old 

man launch, could not repress 

a shout of admiration. 

"Splendid!" he exclaimed. "Splen- 

"What did I say?" demanded old 
man Stuart. " She's the finesi • 
her l<md a(l<«it. Only a special 
like ' mil r-oidd beat her, and I 

reckon Mi I wouldn't stand up 

Dg cortdil i' 
1 1 nut. red an exclamation 

tppening? The 

• old man looked an 
of dismay. What Harrington had said 
A long spiral <>i thick black 
it, too, and watched 
it ion counters m bewilderment. 
drop. Quickly 
he beni. to Ins petrol-pipes, and swore 
at what Ik- 'aw. 

'Idcnl.v Haines began lo flicker 

to the ignition cables, i 

burnt through with alai pidity, 

and bet.'. in to throw sparks down into 

><>l that 1 
I no beds. 
Something warned Bob to look at 
the petrol tanl I were bulging 

I ' 
was a of seconds before they 

He 'limbed out of the corkpit, cli 
down th>- throttle as he did to. The 
lost her way rapidly, and Bob 

tting roar 
of tl but whin he 

iface he saw his beloved 
I i , one of tni 

i clean through ber hull. In the 
few seconds that hi e upon her, 

led and sank. 
He i fitted hii teeth as he set out to 

irds his father's launch. 
"Jessin is going to pay heavily for 



THE launch picked Bob up and went 
back to the landing-stage at once. 
. As it was being tied up, Harring- 
ton held out his hand regretfully. 

"I'm sorry about what's just hap- 
pened, Mr. Stuart." he said, "but I'm 
afraid I must give that contract to your 
rival. Nothing would justify me in 
t,ivmg it to you after what happened. 
You understand that, don't you?" 

The old man nodded dismally. 

"Yes, I understand.'' he said. "Good- 
bye, Mr. Harrington.'' 

They shook hands, and Harrington 
went away. 

Bob watched iiim go, then turned to 
his father. 

"I know what's happened,"' he said, 
'and I'm going to square with Jessin. 
Harrington's going back to his own 
office to fix that contract, I expect, and 
if only I can get hold of Jessin in time 
I can stop it." 

"What was the trouble?" the old man 

" Petrol - pipes were half - drilled 

through," -aid Bob. "It was infernally 
clever. It they'd been drilled right 
through, I'd hi it. As it was. 

they burst under pressure, and so set 
the boat a£ 

He raced across the quay and info the 
shops. Several of his own building 
gang were hanging about. He called 
1 hern together. 

"You .-aw what happened, boys," he 
said to them. "It was foul play, and I 
want your help to square things up 
with the man that did it. Any 
volitnt* ' 

There was an instant shout. Every 




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Starring Betty Compson, Claudia Dell, 

and Tom Douglas. 


Starring Sari Maritza and 

Gene Raymond. 

Don't forget your copy of — 

On Sale Wednesday. Price 2d. 


man there was willing to do anything 
that Bob asked. 

"Get into the launch!" said Bob. 
"Hurry! There's not a moment to lose. 
I'll tell you what has to be done later 

They ran out on to the quayside. 

Meanwhile Alan Harlan had seen the 
disaster, and realised with horror that 
Jessin's plot might have cost Bob his 

Alan became conscience-stricken. His 
sister was with him, and he turned to 
her shamefacedly. 

"Joan." he said, "I know how that 
happened. It was Jessin, the man who 
runs the show-boat out in the harbour.'-' 

She looked at him with troubled eyes, 
not comprehending for the moment. 

"Jessin got me into his clutches," Alan 
went on miserably. "I'd been gambling, 
and when I got into his debt he made 
me steal Bob's plans. Bob found out. 
bur he wouldn't say anything because of 


"Me?" -aid Juan breathlessly. "I 
don't understand." 

"I made him promise not to tell 
you." said Alan. "I was ashamed — 
afraid of you knowing. That's why ho 
hasn't gone to the police." 

"lie did that— for me," said Joan 

"Yes; and now his father's lost that 
contract," said Alan. "Bob's in love 
with you, and he'd do anything to save 
you front uiihappiness." 

Juan's eyes were shining, but tile ex- 
pression on her face was a resolute one. 

"Alan." -he said, "we've got to siop 
Mr. Harrington signing that contract, no 
matter what it costs us. We'll tell him 

Alan shrank awa-v. scared, 

"I I daren't do that," he whimpered. 
"II I do. I'l! have to sro to prison." 

"Gel into the ear.'' said Joan firmly. 
"We're going to Hat iffice." 

He obeyed, and she drove through the 

city to where she ki : ould find 

the 1 1 I hey hut ied 

Into his office, to find II' eady 

I ar his desk, pen in hand. Efe 

ting tlie terms 
to McCary when the sound of Joan's 
i break off. 

" You can't sign thai i oni rac't, Mr. 


I bo i mgton looked i ply. 
"Why not?" 

"Because it was Jessin uho was 

up that boat 

Mil 'ai . here « as in the plot; 

he was selling information to .1 

1 - pay. I was in it, 

■ ington stared at Alan in amaze- 

"1 ran I say 

" It isn't . true I" shouted Mc< ';< ry. 
"He's ti Ding a pack of lies I" 

" Possibly he i ■ ■ ably he isn't," 

said 1 Ian ington quietly; "but I'd like 
to know more about i his business before 
I commit myself. I think we'll all go 
to Mr. Stuart's office and hear 
what he has to say about it. 

Meanwhile Bob, his launch filled with 
trusted men, bore down upon the 
Savarin. The crew on board the show- 
had seen him corning, and wero 

lining the gunwale. 

Boh ' '■<< ! of his launch 

when he ■ uigside, and cupped 

bis hands to his mouth. 

"Jessin there?" he asked. 

"lie's down below,'' replied one of 
the men. "Who wants him?" 

"Tell him young Bob Stuart wants to 
talk to him." 

January 28th. 103S. 


There was a tense silence as the man 
went below. Presently lit- returned, 
Jessin with him. 'Jessin leaned over the 
side sneeringly. 

"Well, well, if it isn't MiMn Stuart!" 
he said. "How are yon, Mister Stuart? 
Anything I can do for you? - ' 

"Yes, there is," replied Boh. 
"You're coming along to Harrington, 
and you're going to tell him exactly 
how my boat came to blow up to-day." 
Jesson grinned down provokingly, 
"Try fetching me," he invited. 
Bob saw that attack was the only 
course left to him, and he gripped hold 
of a rope ladder and swung himself 
aboard. His men crowded along behind 

A smashing blow in the face made him 
wince as he swung his legs over the 
gunwale, but he did not fall hack. Ho 
gained the solid foothold of the deck 
and lashed out right and left, giving his 
men time to get aboard also. 

Soon they were solid behind him, and 
he let up a shout. 

(i "See. to the others, boys!" he called. 
"I'll deal with Jessin personally !" 

Ife hurled himself straight at Jessin 
as the crook jerked a belaying-pin from 
its socket. The pin whined past Bob's 
face as he closed. 

The fight raged like fury around them 
as they rolled across the planking, locked 
in each other's arms. Jessin managed to 
get uppermost, and entwined his fingers 
about Bob's windpipe. 

Bob felt the pressure, and struggled to 
get clear. He could feel himself losing 
• his breath, and his eyes began to bulge. 
Swiftly he freed" one of his hands and 
ptished his forefinger on to the nerve- 
centre immediately beneath Jessin's uot>e. 
Jessin let out a scream of pain, and 
lelaxed his grip instantly. 
Bob's hand took him under the chin 


and Forced his head back sharply. Jessin 
rolled dear, and Bob leapt after him. 

Again and again he dashed bis list 
into Jessin's face until the crook began 
to whine for mercy. Then Bob dragged 
him tn his feet. 

"Well.' In- gasped, "are you going to 
talk to Harrington now '.'" 

'I'll see you in blazes first," growled 
Jeseiir, arid lunged ma savagely. 

Bob parried the blow and slapped in 
an uppercut. Jessin tottered backwards 
under the force of it, but Bob gripped 
him by his jacket and held him tip. 

"Are you going to talk'.'" lie de- 
manded again, and drew back his arm 
threateningly . 

• Ii issin cowered. He had had enough. 

'' I'll t;ilk. " he h himpercd. 

Bob dragged him to the ship's side 
arid made him climb into the launch. 
Then he Followed, calling out to his men 
10 return. 

It was ;i dishevelled bunch of men 
that finally landed ;ir the slipways again. 
While the men made the launch fast, 
Bob hustled the whining Jessin into old 
Mr. Stuart's office. 

"I've gut him," he announced. "I've 
come to pick you up, then we'll go 

along " 

He broke off as he saw thai Harring- 
ton -was already there, together with 
.loan and Alan. McCary *af in a corner, 
a frightened look on his face. 

"Oh, SO you're all here." said Bob, 
with satisfaction. He jerked Jspcin for 
ward. "Go on. you! Say what \ou 
have to say, and be quick about it." 

.Te^sin looked at Bob he-itat ingly, 'then 
decided that he had no chance of escape. 
Any attempt at treachery would he dealt 
with by Bob's fists, and he had had 
enough of those b\ now. . 

"It Wae 1 who planned to blow up 
your speed-boat to-day, Mr. Stuart," he 
said. "I broke into your works last 

Every Tuesday 

the peti ol pipes, 
n short with a 

night and drilled 
I " 

Harrington cut h 
gcsl ure. 

"You need -ay no more now. Jessin," 
he said sternly. " You can make the 
remainder of your statcmenl in tin- 
police." He turned to Stuart with a 
friendly Miiilc. " I think I have heard 
enough. Mr. Stuart. Your craft was 
undoubtedly the faster, and T can see 
now that the accident was uoi caused 
bj fault iii design. If you will make the 
necessary arrangements to have Jessin 
taken into custody, we will get signed lip 

Bob indicated Alan. 

"How about him?" he asked, " I can 
see you know all about hi- share in the 


Old man Stuart beamed happily. 

"From what I have heard, in- buy." 
he said, "Alan is likely to become a 
family connection, and I could not pos- 
sibly prosecute in his case." 

It took Bob several seconds in assimi- 
late the import of this remark, but when 
he did he turned to .loan with a shout. 

"Joan, you mean you " 

She edged away from him appre- 

"There's rather a crowd. Bob, isn't 
there .'" she faltered. 

But Bob cared nothing for crowds. 
He made a dive for her, and grabbed 
her in his aims. 

Old man Stuart coughed in embarrass- 
ment, and turned to the other*. 

"I think perhaps we can conclude our 
business elsewhere," he said tactfully, ■ 
and led them out. 

Bob did not bear. He was too busy 
telling Joan all about how he was the 
happiest man alive. 

(By permission of Ideal Films. Ltd., 

starrinq Richard Talmadge. Nancy 

Drexel, and Donald Keith.) 

100,000 WONDERFUL 

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January 23th, 1931!. Registered for transmission to Canada at Magazine Rales. S.Q, 

The opening Episode of a Grand Mew Serial -"THE LAST OF THE 
MOHICANS" and Two Long Complete Film Stories in this Issue! 





No. 686. 


FEBRUARY 4th, 1933. 


Every Tuesday 

Al! letters to the Editor should be addressed to BOY'S CINEMA, Room 163, The Fleetway House, Faningdon Street, London, E.C.4. 

" The Last of the Mohicans." 
Hawk-eye, Hurry Carey; Cora Mitnro, 
Edwina Booth; The Sagamore, Hobart 
Bosworth ; Major Duncan Heyward, 
Walter Miller; Uncas, Junior Coghlan; 
Alice Miuiro, Lucille Browne; Dulac, 
Walter McGrail; Magua, Bob Kort- 
nian; David Gamut, Nelson McDowell; 
Colonel Miinro, Edward Hearn; General 
-Montcalm, Miseha Auer; General Stan- 
wix. Ah an Cavan; Red Wing-, Jewel 
Rich ford; Huron Indian-. Big Eagle, 
Big Tree, Whitefeather, High Eagle, 
and Little Pine. 

" White Eagle." 

While Eagle, Buck Jones; Janet Rand, 
Barbara Weeks; Bart Kennedy, Ward 
Bond ; Gregory, Robert Ellis; Dave 
Rand Jason Robards; Grey Wolf, 
Frank Campeau; Sheriff, Bob Kort- 
niau; Captain Barton, Robert Elliott; 
Zack, Jimmie House. 

" Sport of a Nation." 
King, Richard Arlen; Lug, 
Andy Devine; Irene Steffens, Gloria 
Stuart; Chick Knipe. James Gleason; 
liob King, John Danow; Gloria 
Neuchsrd, Merna Kennedy; Betty Car- 
. June Clyde. 

A Cioss-Eyed Comedian. 

Cross-eyed comedians are as difficult 
to find as tire proverbial pin in a hay- 
stack. There is, in fact, only one 
artiste in films who can claim to look- 
both ways at once, and he is Ben 
Tin pin, who makes an appearance in 
"Make Me a Star" and •'Million 
Dollar Legs." 

There was a time when he was one 

of the popular sta,rs in screen comedies, 

though that was in the days when all 

films were silent. Vet Ben Turpin was 

not always cross-eyed. In his boyhood 

days he could look as straight as any 

normal lad. It was his part on the 

Stage years later which caused his oye- 

wrong, though, incidentally, 

on in this way the fame he might 

ithei u ise have achieved. 

He did ' cceed in getting a stage 

part at once. So he began as a stage 
and then from appea 

before the footlights in small pai 
tinned to vaudeville as a comedian. 
About that time Opper, the American 
was contributing u> pa 

a widely popular cartoon in which tin' 

chief comia figure "Happy Hooligan' 
was cross eyed. Ben Turpin then I - 
the impersonation of this figure fcwi 

day for weeks at a time before errthuai- 

Ho had, of course, f" 

tantly, and e\ ent 
found that he could not straighten them 
after the show was over. 
In despair he con ami 

optici I .lists and was told an 

I lion would be In put his 

lit, but that this would also 

mean having to abandon Ins imitation 

of Happy Hooligan. lien Turpin 

February -itli, j<j:)3. 




Jim Kenyon, a dare-devil airman, fights 
first for the rebels and then for the 
National Army in the Chinese War. 
Franklyn Bennett, a debonair war 
correspondent, incurs Kenyon's hatred 
by falling in love with Jnlie March ; bat 
when the girl is captured by the brigand 
Fang the two men match their wits 

against the enemy to rescue her. 

Suspected of a orime she had not com- 
mitted, she faced the ordeal of a police 
investigation until a strange denuncia- 
tion brought the real killer to justice. 
A gripping mystery drama starring Gilbert 

Roland and Barbara Kent. 


The second episode of our grand new 

serial : 


Starring Harry Carey, Edwina Booth and 

Hobart Bosworth, 



thought it over. He had become a 
popular figure on the stage and there 
were plenty of engagements still to be 
obtained. He decided for the sake of 
his art at any rate to continue being 
cross-eyed, and when he left the 
for silent films ho won further fame in 
ies bearing his name. 

Spanky's Rival. 

Another touch of colour has been 
added to "Our Gang " comedies. It is a 
little black boy named Tommy, the two- 
year-old brother of Spanky, whose other 
name is George Robert Phillips 

Tommy's first screen appearance will 
be in "Forgotten Babies," and the other 
Hal Roach kids are watching his pro- 
gress in wonderment because RoberE 
McGowan, the director, has nicknamed 
him "Dynamite." 

Answers to Questions. 

Such disputes as to who is the leading 
cowboy are difficult to settle, J. H. 
(Stoke-on-Trent). It all depends on 
one's point of view, and I do not see 
iiow else the question can be settled. 
Tom M;x, Ken Maynard, and Hoot 
Gibson all have their hosts of admirers 
and so have Rex Lease and Jack Perrin. 
Here is the cast of "The Utah Kid "; 
Rex Lease (Cal Reynolds), Dorothy 
Sebastian (Jenny Lea), Tom Santschi 
(•'Butch''), Mary Carr (Aunt Ada), 
Walter Miller (Sheriff Bentley), Lafe 
McKeo (Parson Joe), Boris Karloir,' 
(Baxter), Bud Osborne (Deputy). 

Boris Karloff has never been in 
Russia despite his name which he 
assumed for acting purposes, J. M. 
(Dublin). He was born in London, and 
before turning an actor was known as 
Charles Edward Pratt., After complet- 
ing his education at the Londoa 
University he decided to go abroad to 
one of the Colonies and being uncertain 
which to choose to>sed a coin — heads for 
Australia and fails for Canada. The 
latter country won. Eventually in 
British Columbia he joined a stock 
company, and some time later went to 
Hollywood where his early experience 
m films was gained in playing villainous 
roles in Westerns. Then he returned to 
the -tage, but once more gave it up for 
the screen on which he made Such a 
notable success in "Frankenstein." 
Among his new pictures arc "The Old 
Dai I; House,' and "The Mummy.'' 

4 ^Wonderful Booh] 

\ for 

EVERV Film^T' 
and Hundreds of 
Photographs oi 
Famous Film Stars 

* «„« mi know 

Everything S°" i? rf * our W - 
about a treStaeS-«nd • «! 
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more besides, a j. aichB " *? a 
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Sow on SaU , ann 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 3 

While French and British battled for supremacy in Canada, Redskin vengeance loomed 
dark behind the scenes. Read the double-length opening episode of this serial-drama 
of an English Scout's adventures in the stirring days of General Wolfe. Starring Harry 

Carey, Hobart Bosworth and Edwina Booth. 


The British Scout. 

Till-- year iwi- seventeen hundred anil 
fifty-six, and the season v. 
spring. Lower Canada, battle- 
ground of t ivo nations striving for 
supremacy in the New World, was bathed 
in uarrn and kindly sunshine. The grip 
of winter had been broken, and 
great lakes and the rivers had been 
i from the sheets of ici thai 
i tlieir raters. 
The "ar betwixt Britain and France 
loomed prominent again after a lull 
hard ireather 
during which military operations bad 

impossible as the eighteenth 
tury knew them. Now, with the coming 
of spring, a fresh campaign rat on the 

point of bring launched. 
On the prairies and in the fore- 1 

of bugle and the tattoo of kittle 

wa.s again to be heard. Within 

es that marked the 

limits of British-Canadian territory, 

il Wolfe's red-coats were drilling 

sternly, and looking to their muskets 

with more grimness than had been 

many a. long day. While 

tows rd tfa I nil' li pro-. in< <• ot (,i 

the troops of General Montcalm were 
iting with impatience the ordi 
Op and invade the Anglo 9 

Briton and Frenchman were not the 

oin - who were preparing for 

in, for it had long b 

of both nation to. cufti ieqd 

Indian tribes who lived 

ii the frontier^ of their colonies. 

dskins, under their separate 
chief?, were only too eager in many in- 
stances to take sides arid avenge real 
or mncied wrongs, and thus, across the 
length and breadth of that fair and 
smiling land between the Atlantic and 
the lakes, there was hatred in men's 

There was hatred in the heart of 
M la the Huron ns he stood in the 
tillage of the Mohican people, a peace- 
able tribe residing near the borders of 
British territory. A burning hatred 
t srped his .soul and transformed his 
bronze face into a thing of crafi 
and evil. 

gua was facing a solemn council 
of the Mohiean tribe's wise men. His 
tall, powerful body seemed to quiver 
with rage as he addressed them, bis 
dark eyes gleamed with an emotion tluct 
fres ill-suppressed, and. under the 
blanket that was thrown about hi 
naked shoulders, his broad chest swelled 
at every hai sb tone I v. huh he 


"1 COI with a message from 

i och," Magna .-.nil. "a message 
offering gifts to you if you will join the 
Huron- against the accursed British. 
'III. British ere the !"■ ol French end 
Man alike ! 1, Magna the Huron, 
can tell VOU of their greed and their 
<ruelty. They seek to steal our hunting 
ground-, end drive ns from the land 
,,f our forefathers, Ere they can bug 

in this, let the Huron- and the Mohieans 
D ight and help the French 
to hurl the British into the sea." 

The wise men of the Mohican tribe 
had listened with that habitual stolid- 
nesf of the average Redskin. In the 
background a numerous assembly of 
braves, squaws and papooses 
were gathered, and in 6ilencc these 
awaited the decision of the group which 

sat in Council. 

The wise men were none too hnpn 
In Magna's violent denunciations of the 
British, for they felt them to be ! 
The Mohicans were a happy and care- 
free people, and regarded no other 
nation as an enemy, least of all the 
Anglo Saxons, their neighbours. 

Many years ago, the hatchet had been 

•I In-side (he war-post that stood in 

thi' centre of the village. Since then 

tin-' had had ample opportunity of dis- 

ring that the British were the 

reverse of what Magna now claimed 
them to be. The soldiers and lubj 
of King George the Second had always 
shown respect for their rights, their 'laws 
and their religion, and never once had 

there been dissent between them. 

''The Mohicans doubl me," Magna 
went on. sei-ing that hi- harangue was 

not proving as effective as In- had 
hoped, "lint think well ere you mako 
a decision that you may not have tin 
chance to remedy. I say again that the 
British arc your foes, even though they 
in the guise of friends. They 
have ir good-will so that, they 

cm use you against the French, but Ihe.y 
will cast you down when you ceaso to 
be cf value to them." 

The members of the council glanced 
February 4th, l'J33. 

at one another, and then turned towards 
an imposing figure who sat cross-legged 
in their midst. He was a Redskin of 
some fifty years, but still very upright 
and strong. His fine, noble face was 
beardless, for it was not the custom of 
the northern tribes to grow hair upon 
the face, and in accordance with the 
rule of the Indians living in those parts 
his head was also shaven clean, except 
for a small tuft on the scalp. Like 
Magna and the people of his own little 
village, he wore a feather in this tuft. 

The elderly but well-preserved Red- 
man was known as the Sagamore, the 
head chief of the Mohioan tribe. He 
might seek the advice of the other mem- 
bers of the council, but His would be 
the deciding word, and in this instance 
he did not consult the rest of the circle, 
but gave Magua his answer forthright. 

"Long have we been the friends of 
the British," he told the Huron. "You 
speak of them as a nation which would 
fake our land from us, but this I cannot 
believe. Such, indeed, might be the aim 
of the French." 

"Nay!" cried Magua. "The French 
are true friends of the Redman. They 
promise you many guns and rich gifts to 
gladden your eye, O Sagamore— if you 
will but strike a blow for them." 

The Sagamore shook his head. 

"I have pledged my word to remain 
at peace with the British," he said. "I 
do not break my vow so readily, 

The Huron's brow darkened, and 
then. with a savage gesture, he 
wrenched his blanket from his shoulders, 
and half-turned to display a back that 
was marked by the scars of a whiplash. 

"Great is your folly, O Sagamore," 
he rasped. "See these weals, of which 
no man may be proud— least of all 
Magua the Huron, son of chiefs, leader 
of his people. Thus was I treated when 
I passed into the British stronghold of 
Fort William Henry as a friend. Thus 
was I served at the orders of Colonel 
Munro, the commander there. Magna 
the Huron tied to a stake and. whipped 
like a dog, with the English drums beat- 
ing in my ears !" 

Behind the Sagamore stood a lad of 
sixteen. He was the old chief's son, 
nn upstanding youth known as Uncas, 
and, like some of the council members, 
his face expressed some awe as he gazed 
at Magua's scars. 

"The Huron is a chief among his 
people, my father," he murmured. "To 
bo whipped like a slave is surely good 
reason for his grudge against the 
British, and does it not bear out his 
accusations against them?" 

The Sagamoro pursed his lips. 

"Beware of leaping swiftly to any 
conclusion, my son," ho counselled. 
"Colonel Munro is my friend, and I 

know him to be a just man " 

( "Just !" Magua broke in fiercely. 

"Was it justice to scourge a chief? 

Take care, O Sagamore, lost your own 

lders smart under a British lash 

He in turn was interrupted by a 
loud hail that came from some thickets 
between the Mohican village and a 
broad but shallow river that ran near 

"Heed not the words of yon mangy 
Huron!" it, called in English, and, as 
all turned their heads, they saw a stal- 
wart, well-knit figure stepping from the 

"Hawk-eye!" exclaimed the Saga- 
more, scrambling to his feet to welcome 
the newcomer. "Hawk-eye, the British 

The approaching white man was 
dressed in a rough suit of buckskin, and 
wore a fur cap upon his head. Ho 

February 4th, 1933. 


carried a long musket in his hands, and 
across his shoulder a cord was slung, 
from which was suspended a powder- 
flask made from the horn of an ox. 

His true name was something that 
he had almost forgotten himself, for he 
was known alike in Redskin villages 
and European settlements by the sobri- 
quet of Hawk-eye. But he had been 
bom of English parents south of the 
Niagara Falls, in a province now known 
as the State of New York, though it 
was a British Crown colony then, and 
he had spent his life in the backwoods 
as an agent of King George's men. 

"Hawk-eye," the Sagamore said to the 
scout, as the latter came up with long, 
free stride, "it gives me pleasure to see 
you after so many moons." 

"Nor could I have come at a more 
opportune time, old friend," rejoined 
the white man, casting a glance at the 
scowling features of Magua as he spoke. 

From the thickets Hawk-eye had 
heard every word that had passed be- 
tween the Huron and the Mohicans, and, 
though the conversation had been 
carried out in the Redskin tongue, he 
had understood it in detail. Now ho 
himself broached the subject that had 
been under discussion. 

"Magua," he said grimly, "the French 
do well to call you le Renard — the Fox 
—for your cunning is equal to that same 
critter's. Ye've shown them lashes on 
your back, but not a word have ye 
mentioned as to the reason for com in' 
by them." 

He turned once more to the Saga- 
more, and, while Magua ground his 
teeth in rage, began to offer an explana- 
tion of the whole affair. 

"Magua came to Fort William Henry 
as a friend," Hawk-eye announced. 
" That's true enow, and he was treated 
as a friend until he took some fire-water 
from the stores and let his drunken 
tongue run loose, blurtin' out that he 
was on business for the French. Magua 
was a spy for General Montcalm, and, 
in the guise of offering his services to 
Colonel Munro, he tried to betray the 

Hawk-eye had spoken in English, a 
language with which all his listeners 
were familiar, and at this juncture 
Magua the Huron interposed a harsh 
denial of the facts. 

"The white man lies!" he snarled. 

"It is Magua's tongue that's crooked," 
the scout retorted, "and Magua's words 
that are false. For your attempted 
treachery, Colonel Munro would have 
done well to shoot you like a dog, but, 
because he is a merciful man, he did no 
more than have you whipped and 
turned out of the fort." 

Magua glared at Hawk-eye, and then 
faced the Sagamore. 

"Will you believe a white man before 
one of your own colour?" he demanded. 

"Aye," the Mohican chief replied, 
" for, though the skin of Magua is rod, 
his heart is black. Go, and come here 
no more with your falsehoods." 

"That is the Sagamore's answer?" 
Magua grunted ominously. " So, the 
consequences of it rest on his own 

He drew his blanket around him 
and strode off angrily, and, after watch- 
ing him till he had disappeared into 
the woods. Hawk-eye and the Sagamore 
confronted each other once more. 

"It does my heart good to welcome 
you," the Mohican chieftain said. "But 
hero is Uncas coming to greet you. 
You remember him, my white brother?" 

"Aye, and remember him well," re- 
turned the scout. "Faith, the lad's 
grown since I saw him last, though." 

"And what brings you to our hunting- 

Every Tuesday 

grounds, Hawk-eye?" put in young 
Uncas. "I had almost begun to think 
you had forgotten us." 

"I am on business of his Majesty 
King George," Hawk-eye answered. 
"I'm carryin' important despatches from 
Fort Edward to Colonel Munro, at 
Fort William Henry, and cannot linger 
here for long." 

He was prevailed upon to stay for a 
meal, cooked by the hands of the Saga- 
more's hospitable wife, but he would 
remain no longer than an hour, and at 
the end of that time he said farewell to 
his Indian friends and strode from the 
chief's lodge. 

The Sagamore and Uncas emerged 
from the tepee at his heels, and, before 
permitting the scout to leave, the older 
Redskin offered a few words of advice. 

"Beware of Magua, Hawk-eye," he 
warned. "He knows that you are in the 
service of the British generals — more- 
over, you have offended him grievously 
by denouncing him here." 

Hawk-eye laughed. 

"I'm not the man to dread a varmint 
like yon Huron," he scoffed. "If he 
moans mischief, let him only come within 
range of my trusty musket and I'll send 
him to his forefathers." 

He set out on his way, and the Saga- 
more and Uncas gazed after him until 
the woods had completely swallowed him. 
Then, following a considerable spell of 
silence, the Mohican chieftain spoke to 
his son earnestly. 

"Uncas," ho said, "Hawk-eye treats 
the hostility of Magua too lightly. As 
his friends, it is fitting that we take 
his trail and keep guard on him. Come!" 

Together they left the village, and, 
entering the forest, soon picked out the 
scout's tracks with their keen Redskin 
eyes. But they failed to overtake him 
in the first two or three miles, and it 
was not until they were almost an. hour's 
journey from the Mohican settlement 
that they sighted his lone figure. 

He was wading through the shallow, 
rock-strewn waters of the river, and, 
marking him as he made progress down- 
stream, the Sagamore glanced at Uncas 
and smiled. 

"Hawk-eye's wisdom is proof against 
the treachery of foes, my son," he de- 
clared. "He goes by way of the river, 
so that he will leave no trail for enemies 
to follow him by. Therefore let us 
return to our village." 

Feeling satisfied that no harm was 
likely to come to their paleface friend, 
the chief arid Uncas wheeled around 
and started to retrace their steps in the 
direction of the Mohican topees, fully 
four miles away. 

The Massacre. 

IT was with chagrin and resentment 
written on his ugly faco that Magua 
the Huron made his way back to 
his own people, after his dismissal from 
the Mohican village. 

Magua's disappointment at having 
failed in his mission to the Mohicans 
was not only occasioned by his black 
hatred of the British. A personal lust 
for gain and power had encouraged him 
to throw in his lot with tho French, 
for clever Montcalm had played upon 
the Huron's vanity by painting a picture 
of a future in which all tho Indian 
tribes would be united under one mighty 
chief — Magna, who woidd be subordin- 
ate only to tho Government of France. 

Magua dreamed of that day as he 
hurried with swift and silent tread 
through the woods, but the ambitious 
dream was punctuated by muttered 
curses in which the name of Hawk-eye 
figured. For the Huron was inclined 
to believe that he might have gained a 

Every Tuesday 

jreai many sympathisers among the 
Mohicans if the scout had not appeared 
on the scene and related the true facts 
concerning- the punishment meted out 
by the British. 

Coming presently upon an expanse of 
prairie, Magna looked towards a num- 
ber of tepees. They were the lodges of 
his tribe, and, reaching the village 
within a few minutes, he was met by a 
group of his braves. 

"How fared you, O Magua?" one of 
~hem demanded. "Are the Mohicans 
with us and the French?" 

"No," Magua growled, "they stand 
fa3fc by the British, and it seems to me 
they will fight on their side when the 
time comes." 

"You bring ill tidings, Magua," 
another of the braves commented. 
" With the Mohicans solid against us 
they may check the French when they 
advance towards Fort William Henry." 

Magua laughed harshly. "Bah!" he 
scoffed. "You know not the strength of 
French. Their numbers would over- 
whelm the Mohicans even as a flood- 
torrent sweeps over the plains. No, the 
Mohicans could offer little resistance 
alone, but they would prove valuable 
to the British, and would carry 
warning to the fort as soon as the French 

Thus reasoned Magua, and, in his 
desire to curry favour with General 
Montcalm, he was prepared to launch a 
bloodthirsty scheme. 

"My brothers," he declared, "we shall 
deal with the Mohicans. They sent me 
from their village in scorn, but they shall 
I-am to their cost the folly of having 
crossed the path of Magua. So, too, 
I the paleface scout, Hawk-eye, if he 
still be there." 

In a short space of time the war-drums 
of the village were sounding, and, armed 
to the teeth, the braves of the Huron 
tribe executed the fierce movements of 
the death-dance ere taking the trail. 
Then, eager for the fray, they followed 
Magua as he trotted in the direction of 
the woods. 

The war-party hurried along the forest 
paths, the sunlight glancing on their 
painted bodies as it pierced the leaves 
overhead in mellow shafts. Travelling 

.1 smart pace, they 

in-.v nearer and 

irer to their 

it ion, and, when 

rimy were almost 

ii earshot, they 

tied their speed 

and moved on with 

■nor <ii' ion. 


They reached the fringe of the woods 
at last, and set eyes on thjs Mohican 
settlement. It was a hive of industry, 
peace and contentment, the simple in- 
habitants busy at their daily tasks and 
never suspecting the approach of swift 
and sudden doom. 

Magua paused to let his braves muster 
for the rush. Then he gave the signal 
for action, a loud, shrill-toned whoop, 
and with a medley of cries the war- 
party burst from the forest. 

The Mohicans were taken completely 
by surprise, and shouts of alarm broke 
from them at the unexpected sight of a 
swarm of foes surging upon their village. 
They were still in confusion when Magua 
and the foremost of the Hurons leapt 
amongst them, striking with dagger 
and tomahawk, blazing at close range 
with carbines of European make, or 
driving barbed arrows into the bodies 
of their victims from a distance of a 
few paces. 

Many of the Sagamore's people were 
murdered in cold blood, while their 
hands were empty. Others had time to 
rush to their tepees and snatch up 
weapons that had not been used for many 
a long day. But these were slaughtered 
ere they could unite and offer any 
effective resistance. 

Bold enough when the advantage was 
overwhelmingly in his favour, Magua 
was like a tiger in his ferocity. No 
longer wearing his blanket, which he 
had cast aside to leave his body nude 
to the waist and free for battle, he 
wielded his Indian hatchet with a merci- 
less arm. and blood streamed from the 
blado of his axe. 

The Hurons gloried in the brutal 
massacre, killing and scalping on all 
sides. Before long not a man of the 
Mohican tribe was left alive, but there 
wore plenty of women and children sur- 
viving, and the ruthless Magua and his 
warriors hunted them from lodge to 
lodge. Screaming infants and their 
mothers were slain where they cowered, 
and, within fifteen minutes of the 
enemy's first appearance, the Sagamore's 
people were no more. 

But what of the elderly chief himself, 
and what of his son, Uncas ? Magna 
had seen no sign of them, nor of 

scout Hawk-eye, and a rapid scrutiny of 
the bodies strewn about the village told 
him that they were not among the dead. 

"The Sagamore and his brat are not 
here," he said to his warriors, as thev 
assembled around him in triumph. "No 
matter, we can deal with them when 
we cross their trail again. Come, back 
to our own settlement ! " 

They disappeared into the woods, and 
the silence of death descended over 
the Mohican village. It was as still as 
the grave, and such, indeed, it was — as 
the Sagamore and Uncas were to discover 
when they approached the scene about 
an hour later. 

Father and son were aware of the 
awful quiet as they gained the fringe of 
the forest, and. on staring ahead and 
espying the huddled figures lying 
between the tepees, they stopped short 
and stood as if rooted to the spot. Then 
a hoarse exclamation broke from the 
Sagamore's lips, and. with Uncas at his 
heels, he ran on to the settlement. 

He and Uncas gazed in tragic horror 
at the signs of bloodshed which met them 
on every hand as they passed into the 
village, and with one accord they mado 
for their own lodge. 

Just across the threshold they came 
across a woman's body. Ir was the 
mother of Uncas. bleeding from cruel 
wounds, and, although they had been 
prepared to sec her thus, both father and 
son groaned aloud as they sank to their 
knees beside her. 

The Sagamore raised her head gently. 
She was still breathing, and. as ho 
uttered her name, she opened her eyes 
and recognised him. 

"Who has done this?" ho said, with 
a break in his voice. "Who has done 
this to you and my people?" 

Her lips moved slowly, and her answer 
came in the merest whisper. 

"Magna." she breathed, and then her 
head fell back and the glaze of death 
transfixed her eyes. 

The Sagamore laid her down, and for 
a spell he knelt over her with bowed 
head, while Uncas struggled hard to 
force down a sob of anguish. 'I hen th I 
chief rose to his feet and moved slowly 
from the tent, and the boy followed 
him in a grief-stricken silence. 

•: • 

Next moment the scout and his friends were engaged In 
a deadly melee. 

February Ith, 153! 


His father walked into the middle 
ot the village. There was a set look on 
his face, and he did not pause until he 
was standing before the reddened war- 
stake. Here Uncas joined him, and, 
after a moment, the Sagamoro laid a 
hand on his shoulder. 

"Our tribe — is no more," he said 
heavily. "We, my son, are the last of 
the Mohicans." 

In the breast of Uncas, grief seemed to 
give way to blind rage. He was young, 
and had never raised his arm to kill, 
but he was seized with a desperate crav- 
ing to avenge the terrible wrong that 
had been inflicted on his kin and his 

"The last of the Mohicans !" he ground 
out. "Then let us show the Hurons that 
we can still strike a blow against them! 
Let us seek them out in their villages!" 

The Sagamoro bit his lips. "Head- 
strong words, my son," ho murmured. 
"They would slay us ere we could raise 
a hand. They are too many for us. 
But strike a blow wo will, for one day 
our opportunity will come, and never 
shall we rest until we have brought to 
his grave tho man responsible for this 

With the words he stooped swiftly 
and started to dig into the ground with 
his bare hands, and in the space of a 
few seconds he had unearthed a toma- 
hawk—the hatchet buried so long ago as 
a token that the Mohicans were at peace 
villi their neighbours. 

"I am growing old," the Sagamoro 
said. "One day, Uncas, you will be the 
very last of your tribe. To you I give 
this weapon, commanding you to swear 
a vow of vengeance which must some 
day be fulfilled." 

The eyes of the lad gleamed fiercely 
as he seized the axe, and, gripping it by 
the handle, he drove the blade deep into 
the tough war-stake. 

As he struck the blow he pronounced, 
in violent tones, the name : 

"Magna !" 

In the French Camp. 

FOLLOWING the massacre of the 
Mohicans, Magua the Fox left the 
main body of his braves to 
their way to the Huron village, but 
selected two or three of the war-party 
to accompany him northward to the 
camp of General Montcalm. 

Montcalm was in position on the right 
bank of the River St. Lawrence, and a 
formidable army was mustered under his 
command in the south-east corner of the 
province of Quebec. It was only after 
an arduous march that Magua and his 
companions reached tho bivouacs, and, 
coming through some thickets in front 
of the French position, they were chal- 
lenger by a soldier in the tricorne hat, 
blue coat, white breeches and gaiters of 
Louis the Fifteenth's infantry. 

"Qui va la?" the sentinel demanded. 
"Halt and give the password." 

"It is Magua the Fox," the Huron 
chief replied, in awkward French. "I 
come with some of my braves to see the 
general. And the password — King Louis 
and La Belle France." 

The Indians were permitted to go by, 
and made their way through the lines 
to the simple, but comfortably-furnished, 
tent of the French commander, who re- 
ceived them stiffly. 

General Montcalm was a fine aristo- 
crat and a credit to the French nation 
—tall, active and somewhat austere, but 
possessing a chivalry that had earned 
iiim the respect of friend and foe alike, 
and particularly the respect of tho 
British, who held that same quality in 
such high esteem. 

"Well, Magua," he 6aid lo the Huron 
chief, "you bring news?" 

February 4th, 1933. 


"News, indeed," answered Magua with 
a crafty smile, "for I have come straight 
from the Mohican village." 

Montcalm's interest quickened. 

"Ha," he exclaimed, "and what was 
the outcome of your mission ? Are the 
Mohicans with us?" 

"Huh!" Magua grunted. "The 
Mohicans are with their gods now." 

"What do you mean?" the French 
general asked with a frown. "Explain 
yourself in clearer terms." 

Magua leaned towards him. 

"The Mohicans declared themselves in 
favour of the British," he said, "and 
for that you must thank a certain 
English scout known as Hawk-eye. But 
you have me to thank for clearing the 
Mohicans from your path." 

Montcalm's brow darkened. It had 
always gone against the grain for him 
to seek the allegiance of savages like the 
Hurons, but he had had instructions to 
do 60 from his Government, and had had 
no choice. Now ho began to regret that 
policy the more. 

"You are telling me — that you — you 
have made war on the Mohicans?" he 

"Ay, and slain every man, woman 
and child we could lay hands on," 
Magua answered with a leer. " We 
have wiped them out, oh, Paleface 

Montcalm's impulse was to seize the 
Huron by the throat, denounce him for 
the fiend that he was and then have him 
thrown out of the camp. But he was 
compelled to temper his wrath, for to 
have lost the allegiance of these Indians 
would have meant a severe censure from 
the chief minister of the French cabinet, 
and probably his withdrawal from the 
command of the army. 

He could not refrain from uttering 
a stern reprimand, however, and : 

"Magua," he said, "France does not 
make war on women and children, nor 
does she massacre an innocent and harm- 
less people. " 

Magua scowled at the rebuff. 

"Did not you say that the Mohicans 
might prove an obstacle in your cam- 
paign?" he protested. 

"Had they done so, they must have 
taken the consequences when the time 
came," Montcalm replied. "But they 
may have remained neutral, and you 
had no right to assume otherwise. But 
I heard you mention the scout Hawk- 
eye. What happened to him?" 

"He was not at the village when we 
attacked it," Magua muttered sourly. 

"H'm," the general mused, _"I have 
had intelligence that he is carrying im- 
portant despatches. You would have 
done better to bring him here as a 
prisoner, Magua, than to have 
slaughtered the Mohican tribe." 

Before the conversation could proceed 
farther, an orderly entered the tent and 
sainted smartly. 

"An English soldier lias been seized 
by a patrol of our men, general, hard 
by Ticonderoga," he announced. "They 
are here with him now." 

"Bring him in," Montcalm ordered. 
"We may learn something from him." 

The prisoner appeared in the tent a 
few seconds later, under escort of half 
a dozen French infantrymen. The regi- 
mentals on his red coat and tall, ornate 
hat showed him to be a grenadier of 
the 13th Foot, and from his captors 
Montcalm learned that he had been 
coming from the direction of Fort 
William Henry when he had been seized. 

"How many men has Colonel 
Munro?" the French general asked him 
in English. 

"I am not answering questions," the 

Every Tuesday 

Briton rejoined, "at least, none that will 
be of any military value to you." 

Montcalm looked at the dishevelled 
figure of the English soldier, who had 
evidently put up a fierce struggle before 
he had been overpowered by superior 

"Perhaps you will tell me where you 
were bound for when you were cap- 
tured," he said. 

"There can be no harm' in that," the 
grenadier rejoined with a shrug. "i 
was on my way with a small party of 
comrades to meet an English officer 
called Heyward and the two daughters 
of Colonel Munro. They are coming 
from Fort Edward, and we were to guide 
them to William Henry. Your fellows 
ambushed us, and all but myself were 
killed in the action. But bear in mind 
that wo were outnumbered by four to 

Montcalm was compelled to smile at 
the Englishman's defiance. 

"I am sorry that my men should have 
deprived Colonel Munro's daughters of 
their intended escort," he murmured. 

"Well, you need not think to intercept 
them," tho grenadier declared. "By 
now they should be beyond your reach.'' 

"We have no desire to molest them, 
my friend," Montcalm retorted. "I 
trust they reach their destination safely." 

In uttering that statement, he 
reckoned without Magua the Huron. 
For, standing in the background with 
his handful of braves, the savage had 
listened to every word that had been 
spoken, and his dark eyes had gleamed 
wickedly at mention of the British 
colonel's daughter. 

Munro — the man he hated above all 
others — and here was a ripe and golden 
opportunity to seize two who were near 
and dear to him, and to wreak ven- 
geance for the punishment he had re- 
ceived in the British fort. 

The villainous design had no sooner 
taken shape in the Huron's mind than 
he made a sign to his warriors, and they 
quietly left the tent, moving hack 
through the French camp, and then 
hastening off through the brush. 

"Tho heart of Magua rejoices," he 
told his companions with a leer, as ho 
led them forward at a trot. "My 

chance has come to make some recom- 
pense for the injury done me by tho 
British colonel. Munro's daughters may 
be beyond tho reach of the French, but 
tho arm of a Huron is long, and his 
stride swift, and he knows the forest 
paths as the palm of his own hand." 

Magua took a trail that led through 
the woods, and followed tho course of 
the river. It was a little-known track, 
but tho Huron chief was well aware 
that it was a short cut to the main 
route leading from Fort Edward to Fort 
William Henry, and by using it, ho 
hoped to overtake his victims. 

Several miles farther on, and deep in 
tho heart of tho woods, the track along 
which tho Indians were running took a 
sharp swing to the left. Tho Redskins 
thus turned their backs on the river, and 
not long afterwards they sighted the 
trail that, led to Colonel Munro's strong- 
hold, which was still a couple of hours' 
march to the south. 

Magua stopped all at one, and set his 
ear to the ground. Then, after listen- 
ing attentively for a moment,, he 
straightened and faced his companions. 

"I hear horses," he muttered. "Pale- 
face horses at that, for the sound of 
the hoofs tells me they are. shod." 

The Indians concealed themselves in 
a mass of thickets, and a few minutes 
later four horses moved into their view 
on the trail. Two of them carried girls, 
who were riding side-saddle, and who 
were richly dressed in the fashion of 

Every Tuesday 

the period, young ladies of quality and 
breeding-. With them was a British 
officer mounted on a spirited charger, 
and the rear was brought up by a lank 
and ungainly civilian of comical appear- 
once, who seemed thoroughly ill-at-ease 
on the back of a sturdy nag. 

"We are in good time." breathed 
Magna. "These are Munro's daughters, 
without a doubt." 

"What now. Magua?" one of the 
other braves asked. "Are we to spring 
upon them as they come up? There 
are but two men, and the lean one seems 
no warrior. 

Magua shook his head. He was deter- 
mined to take no risks, for in the event 
of a scuffle there was every possibility 
of the two girls escaping on their horses. 

''No." he declared. "We will hail 

i in the guise of friends, and lead 

m to our village, where they will be 

!y in our power. Leave all to me." 

The party of whites were now quite 
dose, and all at once Magua stepped 
from the thickets, his braves following 
at his heels. 

The sight of four Redskins sudden! v 
planting themselves in their path caused 
the riders to draw rein abruptly, and 
the British officer instantly plucked 
out a horse pistol. But Magua held up 
his hand in a sign of peace. 

"Stay!" he cried, in English, "we 
is no harm. Are the palface 
maidens the daughters of Colonel 

The girls looked at the British officer. 

One was Cora Munro, a brunette whose 

dark curls framed a singularly beautiful 

face, and whose eyes seemed to express 

a fine courage. Tho other was Alice, 

a year or two younger than Cora, and 

fair. She seemed_ considerably 

alarmed, and spoke to their 

r-escort in a tremulous 


"Keep him covered. Major 

Her ward," she whispered, 

with a frightened glance in 

Magiia's direction. "There 

be some treachery." 

"[ doubt it, Alice," re- 
joined Major Duncan Hej 

ward, of the 60th Rova 
Americana. seem 

friendly enough. Who are 
you?" he added, addressing 
Magua. "And what is your 

ness with the colonel's 

"We come from Fort 

William Henry," Magua 

lied. "Colonel Munro '■cut 

out to find you and bring 

you safely to his quarters. 

~e woods are full of 

nch patrols and 

hostile Indians, and 

have orders to 

conduct you to tho 
fort by way of a 

. ir." 

There was an ex- 

from the 

' ivilian who- was 


li ward and tho 

Mil m> girls, David 

iie, he 

'■r and 

rig tutor to the 

I awkward frame was 

t h <: m o r e 

■ 'ous by an ill- 

-', skirted coat, 


. rinkled 

I a pair of 



"French patrols and hostile Indians '." 
he groaned. "Woe is me that I should 
ever have entered such a country. 
Come, major, let us accept this timely 
escort ere any ill befall us." 

Major Heyward had already put aside 
his pistol, satisfied that Magua and 
his three braves were indeed friends. 
A sign from him told the Hurons that 
they were to proceed, and the Redskins 
turned and led the way along the trail 
to a path that forked eastward through 
the woods, the four whites following un- 

There was an inscrutable smile on 
the face of Magua as he took that path. 
for it was one that led direct to his 

In Full Cry. 

LEAVING the scene of the Mohican 
massacre, the Sagamore and Uncas 
bent their steps towards that 
quarter in which Fort William Henry 
lay. for they had decided to take 
shelter in the British stronghold until 
such a time as they could effect their 

Anxious to steer clear of any Huron 
scouting parties that might be in the 
woods, they made a wide detour that 
brought them towards the river, and 
they were hastening forward at a rapid 
pace when they espied a solitary figure 
ahead of them. 

On drawing closer they recognised the 
traveller as Hawk-eye, and, when they 
were near enough, the Sagamore 
attracted his attention with a call that 
was like the hoot of an owl. The white 
man turned at once, and on seeing his 

two Indian friends, he waved to them 
and waited for them to come up 

"We thought you had been at the fort 
ere now, my paleface brother, " the 
Sagamore said. 

"I rested back yonder," the scout ex- 
plained: "but am for pushing ht.rd on 
now, till I am well clear of this con- 
founded Huron country. What brings 
you here, though ?" 

In a voice that shook with emotion tho 
Sagamore related how his tribe had 
been destroyed, and Hawk-eye's face 
imidened as he heard the stay. 

"Mangy varmints I" he growled, "and 
like enough they're lookin' for us now, 
my friends. Well, we'll keep a-goin'." 

They resumed their march, but had 
not been on the trail much longer when 
Uncas suddenly gave an exclamation. 
and pointed towards the right. 

The two Indians and tho white man 
were on the top of a promontory from 
which it was possible to look dow-i on 
liie woods, and they could see the imn 
trail to Fort William Henry running 
like a ribbon between the trees. But 
what Uncas had discerned was a party 
of Redskins and Palefaces striking 
away along a bnmch-track that forked 
eastward, and his eyes blazed a= lie 
picked out a familiar figure in their 

" Magua !" he grated. 

Magua it was, treacherously leading 
the Munro girls in the direction of his 
village, but, if Uncas and Sagamore 
saw nothing in the circumstance beyond 
a chance to avenge themselves. Hawk- 
eye took a very different aspect of the 

Magua closed with the chief of the Mohicans and 

the two men grappled fiercely. 

February 4th, 1933. 


"By thunder!" he jerked. "I know 
not who them girls are, but there's a 
British olficer with them, and Magna 
is no friend of my race. Mebbc them 
folks are prisoners. Come, we'll get 
down there an' rescue 'em." 

They hurried through the trees, 
crossed the main trail and sped along 
the track which Magua's party were 
following. Before ten minutes had 
elapsed they wine within a stone's throw 
of the Unions, and with a loud whoop 
Ifawk-eye rushed forward, with the 
Sagamore and Uncas close behind him. 

Magna and his braves turned their 
heads, and at sight of the scout and the 
two Mohicans they cried out in alarm. 
They might have stood their ground 
and fought, for, even had Heyward and 
David Gamut learned the truth and 
helped the newcomers, the odds would 
have been fairly even. But the Hurons 
were boldest when the advantage was 
overwhelmingly in their favour, and as 
one man took to their heels and fled 
through the forest. 

Hawk-eye came up at the double, and 
Major Heyward promptly covered them 
with his pistol, believing them to be 

"Hold !" he ordered menacingly. "Til 
put a ball through the first that draws a 
Btep nearer." 

"Lay a^ide your pistol. friend," 
Hawk-eye rejoined "'Tis a Briton who 
speaks, colonial bred, and you and the 
young ladies can thank us for scarin' oft 
those Huron varmints." 

"What do you mean?" Heyward de- 
manded. "They were friendly enough. 
They were guiding us to Fort William 
Henry, where I am to hand over these 
two young ladies to their father, Colonel 

Hawk-eye started, and the truth of 
the situation dawned on him in a 

"These arc the daughters of Colonel 
Munro?" he ejaculated. "Then that 
explains everything, I reckon. The 
leader of those Hurons was Magua, who 
bears Munro a grudge for a whipping 
he once received and deserved. He was 
leading you straight to his village, 
where heaven knows what misfortune 
might have befallen the young ladies." 

Major Heyward gripped his pistol 
more tightly. "If that's the case," he 
ground out, "let us take after them and 
seize this Magua. We can soon verify 
your story when we reach the fort." 


"No," Hawk-eye answered. "'Tis 
worse than useless to think of giving 
chase. We're close to the Huron village, 
and ere long there will be a pack of 
fiends huntin' us. Come on, we've got 
to strike back to the main trail and 
push ahead — hard as we can." 

They wheeled, and, while Gamut, 
Heyward and the Munro girls rode 
at a trot, Hawk-eye and the two 
Mohicans ran behind the horses. But 
they had hardly reached the track that 
led to the fort when they heard a 
tumult of unholy yells in the forest. 

The fugitives sped on, but the Hurons 
had cut straight through the woods to 
intercept them, and an advance party 
of the enemy braves suddenly sprang 
into the path of Hawk-eye and his com- 

Next moment the scout and his friends 
were in a deadly melee. They fought 
with desperate valour, crushing the 
onset of the group of Hurons. Yet it 
would have gone hard with Sagamore 
but for the intervention of Hawk-eye 
and Major Heyward, who sprang from 
his horse, snatched up the musket of 
a fallen brave and helped the scout to 
beat down a savage who was attempting 
to attack the Mohican from behind. 

The last of the assailants having been 
disposed of, the whites and their 
Mohican allies prepared to continue 
their flight. But the main body of the 
Hurons were desperately close now, and 
were racing forward in a sort of 
crescent formation that threatened to 
envelop the quarry. 

To go forward was impossible, and 
Hawk-eye gave the order to swing oft 
to the right. With the foe in hot 
pursuit the fugitives raced on till they 
gained a clearing, where they took cover 
behind a fallen log of stout dimensions. 

The Hurons entered the clearing, and 
Hawk-eye's musket banged. Down went 
a Redskin who was just in front of 
Magua, and at the same time the 
Sagamore and Uncas launched a couple 
of arrows, bringing down two more. 

A fourth fell to the pistol of Heyward, 
and Magua and his braves sought cover. 
From undergrowth and trees they 
opened a steady fire on their prey, and 
a shower of carbine-bullets and feathered 
shafts whistled about the heads of the 

The trunk behind which whites and 
Mohicans crouched was the girth of 
two full-gTOwn men, and afforded 


No. 2 of our Series of Postcard Art Plates — 

Order your copy ol BOY'S CINEMA at your Newsagent to-day I 

February 4th, 1939. 

Every Tuesday 

them plenty of cover. No one was 
struck by the Huron volleys, though 
David Gamut had his hat carried away. 

Busy with ramrod, powder-horn and 
bullets, Hawk-eye continued to blaze 
away at the skulking figures of Magua's 
warriors. Heyward used his pistol to 
good effect, too, and the arrows of Uncas 
and his father were never far off tho 
mark. But, though the Huron casualties 
were mounting up, Hawk-eye and his 
Mohican friends gained little heart from 
this, for they knew full well that their 
enemies were too strong in numbers 
for them. 

"Hawk-eye," said Heyward, who now 
knew the scout by name, "what chance 
have we ?" 

The scout glanced at the Munro 
girls, cowering near by, Cora with her 
arm about her younger sister's 

"Our chances are nil, Major," Hawk- 
eye muttered, lowering his voice. 
"Presently these Huron scum may pluck 
up enough courage to rush. I reckon 
it will be all up with us then.'" 

"I am not concerned with my own 
safety," Heyward said, "but for the 
safety of Colonel Munro's daughters. 
Can nothing be done for them ?, 

The Sagamore had overheard, and, 
while fitting an arrow to his bow, he 
turned to address Heyward and the 

"The Hurons keep a fleet of canoes 
on this stretch of the river." he ex- 
plained. "The paleface maidens might 
take one, and make their way down- 
stream, landing just above the falls. 
But they would have to beware of the 

"That's the idea, Major," Hawk-eye 
declared, priming his musket as he 
spoke. "You and Gamut ride to the 
river with them. Uncas and the Saga- 
more and meself will cover your 

Heyward demurred, announcing that 
he was ready to share "in the danger of 
bringing up the rear on foot. But the 
scout answered his arguments by remind- 
ing him that he was in charge of Colonel 
Munro's daughters. 

"'Tis your duty to take them safely 
to the fort, Major," he said. "And 
remember, it will take strong hands to 
hold that canoe against the current of 
the river." 

Heyward nodded, and instructing 
Gamut and the girls to accompany him. 
he prepared to mount. But at the same 
moment Magua the Fox was ordering 
a formidable party of his warriors to 
make a circling movement and attack 
the defenders from the direction of tho 
river, and they were already well on 
their way before Munro's daughters had 
been helped into the saddle. _ 

Heyward and his companions dashed 
off, and when they had had a fair start, 
Hawk-eye and the two Mohicans sprang 
to their feet and began to retire. With 
that Magua and the main body of tho 
Hurons leapt from cover, and, uttering 
fearsome howls, they swept forward at 
the double. 

Hawk-eye sent a bullet into their 
midst, and, while he was reloading, the 
Sagamore and Uncas directed arrow 
after arrow at the oncoming savages. 
Tims, fighting on the retreat and taking 
advantage of every scrap of cover, the 
trio were able to hold up the enemy 
advance, and at length they had tho 
satisfaction of seeing the Munro girls 
entering a canoe with Gamut and tho 

The scout and the Mohicans then 
altered their course and worked down- 
stream, and, leaving the trees, they 
clambered to the summit of a bluff that 
overlooked the swift-flowing river. 
(Continued on page 28.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 9 

A cattle thief stirs up strife between the Redskins and the White Men, but a paleface 
" brave " dogs his trail like a menacing shadow. A stirring story of the West. 


The Pony Express Rider. 

A ROUGH wooden shark and an old 
post with a board on which faded 
white letters announced the place 
Barton Creek." A lone valley with 
fed, barren hills on either side and 
uneven trail. 
This trail led from civilisation out to 
Virginia City, a big armed settlement 
in t he western sector of Nevada. 
In these carl} pioneer days the West 
.1 lighting ground for Indians, 
soldier- and bad men. At the moment 
was peace between Redskin and 
I' deface. 

A h rumbled along the trail. 

The shack door opened and out stepped 
irded, massive old veteran, who was 
i- ■ hii Ioim- post. 

With much shouting the driver pulled 

lip I: and when the dust had 

i d tin- door opened and a girl 
.. d wearily out. Two other male 

'iL'ers in the clothe, of the day fol- 

Janel Hand was a pretty, fair-haired 
The blue bonnet with 
'iv ribbons set off the gentle, refined 
Though hot and tired shi 

L'irl that ohl Sam, the 
lardian, had e 
How ' ' cried the guard of 

"I'm fine I've got some grub ready." 

'I ! doffed li 

girl, "Had a good trip''" 

The lean. weather-beaten driver 
chimed in with "Fair and middlin'. 
Fourteen days from St. Joe." 

"I call that travellin'," chuckled the 
suard. "Hut Jim's never satisfied. 
What's news ?" 

"Nothing much. A few hoss-thieves." 
Sam walked up to the girl. "Ain't often 
a lady takes this trail." 

I his is my first visit to the Wit' 
II smile was charming. "I've been 
at a school and now I've come out to 
join my brother. He works for the 
Pony FJxpress at Virginia City." 

"Does he now?" Sam scratched his 
head "What's hi- name?" 

" Da\ id Rand." 

"Dave Rand?' Sam held out a great 

hand. "Sure I know Dave arid mighty 

pleased to meet, his sister! Dave S 

on Superintendent and a fine 


ittering hoofs made the girl look- 

"You'll see one of Have's fastest 
riders go through In. dned Sam 

"A Pony Express rider?" The girl 

was thrilled. 

"Vfe'm. White Eagle's due 
from the E I 

"White Eagle?" The girl showed 
her i teeth in a puzzled smile. 

" He's a full-blooded B i 

Indian." Sam pointed out. "Wish all 
lliem fnjiins Here like him. lb' 
eagle right enough, and his folk called 

him white 'cos of his skin. Here he 

The rider wore a fringed buckskin 
coat, stout breeches, riding-boots of 
strong soft leather and a wide-awake 
hat. Perhaps this hat was the chief 
sign of his Indian parentage, because 
it had a curious woven band round it 
coveted with queer figures. Besides a 
decoration, it was a token against evil 
spirits. A bright feather was fixed to 
this band. 

Janet .stared at the rider with interest. 
She saw a clean-shaven man of some ago 
abort of thirty; a strong jaw. and two 
wide apart eyes that told her that this 
Indian brave was as fierce as be wa3 

White Eagle swung out of the saddle 
and ran across to the hitching post, 
where he jumped to the saddle of the 
biggest horse. Old Sam had caught the 
animal he had been riding. 

"Sam," Janet was surprised at the 
refined manner of speech of this Indian 
and his clear pronunciation. "I'm late, 
so I can't stop." His eyes glanced for 
oiid at the girl, then to the guard 
of the coach. "Carrying much mail?" 

"Three bags, W T hito Eagle," answered 
the guard. "More than you can handle, 
chief, but I'm pulling outta here mighty 

"I'll let them know that you're carry- 
ing mail," White Eagle nodded, and 
with another swift glance at the girl 
February 4th, 1933. 


-touched the flank of his mount with hi6 

At a pace that seemed incredible, 
White Eagle dashed away down the 
trail. With parted lips the girl stared 
after him. 

Indian Against White Man. 

VIRGINIA CITY was growing 
rapidly. Besides the rough shacks 
of the settlers, there were frame 
houses with gardens where business men, 
who realised the possibilities of the 
West, had taken up residence. Their 
money and enterprise were opening up 
new pasture lands. A captain and fifty 
soldiers were stationed at Virginia City. 
There were several stores, saloons and 

The superintendent's office was a well- 
buiit shack. 

On the veranda stood a curly-haired, 
handsome young man. His grey trousers 
and blue jacket were well made— they 
came from Washington. The eyes were 
wide apart, but the forehead was short 
and spoilt an otherwise strong face. De- 
termination was written in the looks of 
David Rand— and stubbornness as well. 

An unshaven, furtive-eyed giant of a 
man stood on the veranda close to 
Rand. His coloured shirt was open at 
the neck, whilst the big hands rested 
on his hips. He wore a blue waistcoat 
and faded blue trousers that were tucked 
into short riding boots. A gun reposed 
in the leather holster strapped down to 
his leg. 

"Say, Daver." The man's eyes studied 
the superintendent in a curious manner. 
"How about sendin' some of those 
extra bosses out to the range for pas- 

Dave Rand had been staring fixedly 
down the main street towards an open 
stretch of land through which the silvery 
trail wound. Bushy eyebrows came 
down over dark eyes as he turned to his 
foreman, Bart Kennedy.- 

"I've said no twice to that question," 
spoke Dave. "There's too many horse 
thieves about lately. Let them stay in 
the barns." 

Without answering, Bart Kennedy 
lumbered away, but there was an angry 
gleam in his small eyes. 

Many other keen eyes must have seen 
that distant speck, because the main 
street began to fill with settlers and 
their families. 

"Here he comes!" cried one man. 

"Trust White Eagle to be ahead o' 
time," laughed another. 

The horse and rider galloped up the 
main 6treet, and there came a hoarse 
cheer of greeting. White Eagle, before 
his horse had slithered to a stop, leaped 
lightly from the saddle. 

"Pony Express!" Ho called out and 
grinned at the superintendent. "H'ya, 

"Fine, Big Chief!" Rand shook 
hands with White Eagle. There was a 
strong bowl of friendship between these 
two nun. Rand had learnt much of the 
ways of the West, and the handling of 
Indians, from this strong, taciturn 
" brave " with the white skin. 

A young fellow in buckskins pushed 
his way through the crowd. The boy's 
parents had come to the West and had 
died there, but tho lad had stayed. Dave 
Rand gave him a job tending the 
horses. He was known to all as 
"Zack," and his hero and friend was 
White Eagle. 

"Hallo, Zack!" While Eagle saluted 
the fourteen year old lad. "Will you 
take my horse and give him a good rub- 

February 4th, 1933. 


"I sure will," piped Zack. "I'll have 
him > shinin' like a nigger's skin." 

White Eagle handed over a satchel of 
mail to Rand, who at once became the 
centre of an eager throng. 

As Zack was about to lead away the 
big horse, White Eagle stayed the lad 
with a question: 

"How's Silver getting along?" 

Silver was White Eagle's grey stallion 
and pet. 

" Aw, he's still lame, and Bart sent 
him out on the Carson run," was the 

In a flash White Eagle's face was a 

"What made Bart do that?" 

"I told him the hoss weren't fit to 
travel." Zack nodded his brown head 
vigorously. "But Bart sent him, all the 

" I'll have a talk to Bart about this." 
White Eagle spoke through gritted 
teeth. "Best get moving — I'll be round 
after talking to Dave." 

A clean-shaven man with thin, well- 
cut features, and wearing the uniform 
of the United States Cavalry, appeared. 

"A letter here for- you, captain!" 
Rand called out. 

" I hope it's orders to get ready for 
the paymaster," the captain grinned. 
"1 don't think my men or myself have 
a cent between us." He took the long 
envelope. "This is it — or I'm a sick 
man." He opened it swiftly. "Yes, 
Major King, the paymaster, is coming 
in with the stage. I'll go tell the 

Many of the men gathered round 
Rand wished the captain luck. He was 
a popular officer. But one man on the 
edge of the crowd did not cheer; he 
twirled his small black moustache and 
stared thoughtfully after the captain. 
His name was Gregory, and he was in 
Virginia City on Government business. 
His grey cloth suit was well cut, but of 
a loud tone, his waistcoat of flowered 
silk, a brown cravat tied in a stock and 
ornamented by a diamond horseshoe — a 
stiff white collar. Somewhat of a 
dandy, but the eyes' were too close, the 
black moustache too thin, and the 
mouth too hard. Handsome, but far 
from popular, though certain of the 
rougher element thought Gregory a fine 

Seeing that Rand was still busy with 
the mail, White Eagle walked after his 
horse round to the barns, where he 
found the burly Bart arguing with the 

" You can't rub down that hoss here ! 
You've " 

"Hey, Bart!" There was a glint in 
White Eagle's eyes. "I want to talk 
with you." 

"Well, an' what d'you want, Injun?" 
Bart swung round aggessively. 

"I hear you sent Silver out on the 
Carson run." 

"What if I did?" 

"The horse belongs to me, and I 
don't want him sent out when he's 

"Don't you stand around tellin' me 
what to do!" Bart's ugly face was livid. 
"You get out of here! Handlin' the 
hosses in this outfit is my business." 

White Eagle was unmoved by the 
scowls and blusterings. 

"Maybe so," he spoke calmly. "But 
Silver belongs to me — and he doesn't go 
out without my giving the word." 

Bart swung round and glared at 
young Zack. 

"You tattlin' little brat!" he shouted. 
"This will teach you to keep your 
mouth shut." 

Every Tuesday 

And, with a cowardly and brutal blow, 
his fist floored the youngster. 

One second later mighty hands were 
laid on Bart's shoulders, and he was 
swung round. White Eagle banged his 
fist into the evil face. 

The sounds of the fight and Zack's 
shrill shouts of encouragement carried 
to the group in front of the super- 
intendent's office. 

"Looks mighty like a fight down in 
the corral," said a voice. 

A fierce-eyed man with a shaggy 
moustache and a large star on his waist- 
coat growled. 

""I'll clap whoever's fightin' in gaol! 
I'll have law and order in this city !" 

In a body they rushed towards the 
barns, Gregory going with them. 
. On the ground lay young Zack, nurs- 
ing a tender jaw, whilst Bart and White 
Eagle waded into each other with fierce 
blows. Even as the sheriff rushed for- 
ward to intervene, Bart's head went 
back from an uppercut, and he 
measured his length on the ground. 

The sheriff flung himself in between. 
Bart staggered to his feet, but the arm 
of the law kept him back. 

" Stop this fightin' !" 

"Let me alone!" yelled Bart. "Let 
me finish this cursed Indian " 

"This is a law-abidin' town," the 
sheriff reproved. "If you want to fight, 
go behind the barns." 

David Rand looked at these two men 
of his. 

"What's the trouble?" he asked. 

" This Injun's gettin' too high an' 
mighty around here!" growled Bart. 
"I'm gonna learn him his place!" 

" What was the trouble, White 
Eagle?" Rand ignored Bart. 

The Indian brave remained silent. 

"I'll tell you, Mr. Rand." Zack got 
to his feet. "I told White Eagle that 
Bart had sent Silver out on the Carson 
run when the hoss was lame. Bart hit 
me for tellin' — and White Eagle came 
to my aid." 

"I guessed it wasn't your fault, 
White Eagle." Rand smiled at the 
express rider, then scowled at the burly 
ruffian. "You know the company's 
rules, and I've warned you before. 
You're fired." 

"Well, if you 
Express like an 
on with it!' 
stained teeth, 
with it." 

The sheriff waved the crowd away 
with his hands. 

"That's all, boys. The show's over." 

Bart slunk away, and the glances at 
him were not friendly. 

"A rat!" muttered the sheriff. 

"Don't you worry, Zack," White 
Eagle comforted his young friend. "If 
Bart makes any more war medicine, 
we'll make a stronger one." 

"You run along, Zack, and get your 
face bathed." Rand took White 
Eagle's arm. "I'm glad that skunk's 
out of the service." A. smile appeared. 
" We got to put on our best feathers to 
meet the stage." 

White Eagle looked at his friend, 
wondering what he might mean. "Best 
feathers to meet the stage? That is 
strange talk!" 

"My sister is coming to live with 
me," proudly explained Raud. 

"Your sister?" White Eagle re- 
membered the fair-haired girl. I have 
seen her. Her eyes are full of 

It was Rand's turn to stare. 

"You've met her?" 

" At the relay station when I went 
through." White Eagle spoke gravely, 

can run this Pony 

old lady's home — get 

Bart sneered, showing 

" I'm glad to be through 

Every Tuesday 

''I was going to report news of the 
stage-coach, but the words that Silver 
had been on the trail gave me much 
anger. Your sister is very beautiful." 

'"You saw a whale of a lot in a mighty 
short time!" 

'Indian eyes are very sharp." A 
faint smile twitched the lips. "One 
look, and they see everything." 

"Janet's a great kid," enthused 
Rand. "The coach should be sighted 
within the hour. 1 want you to meet 
my sister." 

Arm-in-arm the two friends walked 
back to the superintendent's shack. 

Behind the barns the man Gregorj 
- 'aring at Bart. 

" Can't you keep yourself out ol 

'■ I took all I was gonna take from 
that Injun, and " 

Gregory interrupted him fiercely. 

" I needed you around here to watch 
things, and you've made a fine mess of 
it with your fool temper." 

" Maybe I lost my head," muttered 

" I never saw any proof that you had 
one." Gregory caught his underling's 
arm. "Listen. Captain Barton has had 
a letter from Major King, the pay- 
master. King is on the stage." 

"Those warrants of yours aren't an;. 
"good." Bart's face was ashen. "We'fl 
better hightail out of here." 

" We're not running. The major is 
not going to arrive." A cruel grin 
showed on, Gregory's full lips. "That's 
the job I got for you. You know where 
to find the boys. You've got to act 
quick. Jump to it, and don't bungle — 
or you'll dangle from the end of a 
rape '." 


The Wounded Driver, 

GREGORY saw his man ride towards 
the hills, and with a satisfied smile 
went to the main street, where 
some fine horses were being sold. 

"My name's Gregory. I'm buying 
horses for the Government. How much 
do you want for that stallion?" he 
would say, and he did not quibble much 
over the price. 

He never paid money, but gave out 
a warrant. Some of the cattlemen had 
been suspicious of these warrants, but 
Captain Barton had assured them that 
the warrants were genuine, and that, as 
soon as the paymaster arrived, they 
would be cashed. 

The horses bought, were turned into 
a big corral and, after a few day. were 
taken olf by Gregory's men to a fertile 
valley. Being unsuspecting and honest 
men in Virginia City, no questions 
were asked of Gregory. 

Gregory bought many horses that 
afternoon. Many times he glanced 
down the main street towards the dis- 
tant hills and the winding trail. 

Others also glanced along that trail. 
White Eagle, Rand and the sheriff were 
continually shading their eyes with 
tliiir hands. 

"It is strange that the stage is so 
late." murmured White Eagle. 

"The stage is nearly two hours 
behind." Rand's face was pale with 
suspense. " What do you think can 
have happened, sheriff?" 

"Nothing, nothing! Don't you worry, 

Dave. Why " The tautening of 

the Indian's expression caused him to 
glance down the trail. " What do you 
see, White Eagle?" 

"A horseman who staggers and sways 


in the saddle," White Eagle pointed. 
"That man is wounded." 

A rush for horses and then they roda 
out to stare in horror on the badly 
wounded white man. One arm hung 
limp and blood trickled down his face. 
Rand caught him in his arms as he 
fell from his mount. 

"Indians on the warpath," the 
wounded driver muttered. "Wiped out 
everyone on the stage!" 

"Killed the passengers!" was the 
horrified cry of the sheriff. 

"Yeah, every one of 'em," was the 
faint answer. " Give me a drink o' 
n ater — I'm all in." 

"Curse these murderin' redskins." 
The sheriff raised clenched fists and 
shook them in his rage. 

David Rand was like a man struck 
dumb. He stared at the bloodstained 
driver in a dazed manner as if he 
could not understand what had been 

"Tell us what happened?" It was 
White Eagle questioning. 

"I was ambushed five mile out of 
town an' they killed all my passengers." 
The driver drank greedily at White 
Eagle's water bottle. "I was thrown 
an' left for dead. The Redskins took 
cverythin'. They took all the bosses 
pt this poor crittur." White Eagle 
notice the gash in the animal's neck. 
"After a while I dragged myself up 
and got on his back." 

"I'll go get a posse," the sheriff 
decided. "We may get their trail." 

"I!ll ride on," White Eagle decided. 
"Do not lose heart, Dave. She may bo 
a prisoner." 

"My Bister, My little Janet!" Dave 

bowed his head. Oh, C , why did 

I bring her out here!" 

" White Eagle, I can never thank you 
for what you have done," said Rand. 

february 4th, 1933. 


"Look after hiVn sheriff," whispered 
White Eagle. "And do not believe all 
that is said about my peoples. These 
Redskins are not of my tribe." 

The sheriff rode back to town and 
soon raised a posse. One of the first 
to volunteer was Gregory. 

At a gallop the posse charged along 
the trail and at last they came to the 
smashed coach. Arrows were sticking 
into the woodwork, and the two bodies 
that were dragged forth had been 

"It's the work of Indians right 
enough,"' opined Gregory. 

"Yeah, I reckon so." agreed the 
sheriff. Anyone else inside the coach?" 

There was no sign of the girl. The 
sheriff __ was puzzling over this when 
a member of the posse hurried to him. 

"We've found White Eagle's; hat and 
an arrow resting on it. It's his sign 
for us to go the way the arrow points." 

Another member of the posse, who 
had been examining the ground, 
reported that a number of horses had 
been led away to the East. 

"Take Charlie an' Otto an' follow 
*\ hite Eagle." decided the sheriff. 
"The rest of us will go after the main 
bunch. Bud and Hank will stay by 
the coach." 

Man Against Panther. 

WHITE EAGLE had found the 
guard and the two passengers. 
A quick glance showed him they 
were dead, but there was no sign of 
the girl save her bonnet. 

Lacs that could read every sign on 
the ground were soon at work. He 
could build up the swift attack. How 
the stage had been taken by surprise, 
and. out of control, had crashed into 
a boulder to overturn. The passengers 
had tried to defend themselves and had 
been instantly killed by knife or arrow. 
The horses had been driven away with 
the exception of the one wounded beast. 
He saw the spot where the driver had 
lain and knew his theory was right. He 
found the trail leading east and swiftly 
he went down on his knees. There was 
a queer light in his eyes as he stood up. 
He stood there like a graven image, 
staring before him, deep in thought. 

White Eagle went towards his horse 
and then saw a small heel mark in the 
sand. The marks went west. After 
trailing the marks for some distance 
he returned and fixed the arrow to show 
his direction. 

I he small heel marks were very 
uneven and he could tell that the 
person to whom they belonged must be 
in distress, but there were no other 
marks beside them and from that White 
Eagle found hope. 

Closer and closer the Indian brave 
came to the white cliffs and now the 
trail was hard to follow as small stones 
and boulders covered the sand. Perhaps 
he would have lost the trail if a girl's 
cry of terror had not sent him running 
in great strides towards a cave among 
the rocks. 

Dark and gloomy, but White Eagle 
had tli.- eyes of a cat. Blackness, then 
a space lit up by a shaft of light that 
beamed down from a tunnel or crevice 
in the cliff face. 

Backed against the wall, with hands 
to her cheeks, was a girl. She was 
staring with fascinated horror at a large 
firry creature that was prone on its 
belly preparing for a spring. 

A panther or mountain lion. A power- 
ful, dangerous beast and probably mad 
with hunger. The girl had stumbled 
into its lair. 

\< the creature tensed its sinews for a 
spring, White Eagle hurled himself to 
the ri 

Janet Hand watched with amazed 
February 4th, 1933. 


eyes the most thrilling and terrible 
battle. A clawing, snarling cat and a 
bronzed giant. Almost she fainted when 
the claws of the panther ripped away 
White Eagle's breeches and buried 
themselves in the flesh of the leg. 

The Indian had got his hands round 
the creature's throat. 

Fighting desperately, man and beast 
rolled to the ground. She saw the buck- 
skin coat torn to ribbons. Surely this 

brave man would be killed Janet 

could have escaped, but she seemed too 
paralysed to move. 

The fighters broke free. White Eagle 
was streaming with blood. Janet 
thought that the end for both of them 
was near. 

The panther sprung but not so fiercely 
and those mighty hands fastened again 
round the creature's throat. With super- 
human strength White Eagle lifted 
the panther high, then hurled it against 
the rock side of the cavern. A harsh 
scream of pain and the panther came 
back to the attack. Again and again 
White Eagle flung the animal against 
the rocks, and at last with all his 
remaining strength his hands got a 
throttling grip. 

The three men had reached the cliffs ; 
they had lost the trail — when out of a 
hole in the cliff face rushed a girl. She 
screamed at them and beckoned to the 

"Come on, boys!" gasped one of the 

"Get him out of here." shrilled the 
girl. "Don't stand staring. He may- 
be dying. He saved my life." 

Gently they carried White Eagle out 
of the cave and then Otto rods off alone 
after the posse. 

Dave Rand shouted for joy and relief 
when he heard that his sister was 
safe. White Eagle staggered to his feet 
when Rand and the sheriff rode up. 

Brother and sister were clasped in 
each other's arms. Janet poured out an 
excited tale of her adventures. 

"He saved me from an awful animal," 
sobbed Janet. "I think it was a lion. 
She pointed to White Eagle. "He's 
terribly hurt " 

"White Eagle, I can never thank you 
for what you have done." Rand, with 
one arm round hi3 sister, went up to 

the lacerated hero. "I can't say " 

White Eagle managed to smile. 
"You are my brother. There is no 
need for words between us." 

"No, but time for deeds." Rand 
swung round on the posse. "Boys, we 
got to make a sling and get White 
Eagle back to town." 

On the way back Rand asked the 
sheriff if he had any news. 

"The Redskins got clean away." The 
sheriff bit savagely at his old pipe. 
"They always do, doggone it. They 
steals hossas, they raids ranches an' 
holds-up stages — an' always thev 
vanish. We followed them for a spell, 
an' then a bunch o' wild horses crossed 
their trail. We lost them. Say, Dave, 
might I ask your sister a few ques- 

Janet had been found a horse, and 
she was riding close behind the sling of 
ropes that supported the wounded brave. 
The ropes were fixed to the saddles 
of two of the horses, but in spite of their 
walking gait, she knew White Eagle 
must be suffering intensely. Not a 
moan escaped his lips. She dropped 
back at her brother's call. 

"How brave he is," she whispered. 
' Strange that he should be an Indian, 
because he looks so white and his 
features are so English." 

"It's often puzzled us," the sheriff 
inswered "Miss Rand, could you tell 
me anythin' about the attack?" 

Every Tuesday 

"I was inside the coach." She shud- 
dered at the memory. "There was a 
lot of shooting and yelling, then the 
stage overturned. I think I was flung 
from the coach when it overturned. I 
have a vague remembrance of crawling 
behind a boulder, and when I came to 
again all was quiet. I staggered to my 
feet and I saw dead men everywhere." 
She buried her face in her hands. "All 
I wanted to do was to get away — and 
I ran blindly. I found myself in brush, 
and at last I came to the cliffs. There 
was an opening in the rocks, and I . 
wanted to get out of the blinding sun, 
and then I heard a mighty roar " 

"There, there, Janet, don't excite 
yourself," comforted her brother. "We 
can guess what happened after that. 
Try and forget all about it." 

The wounded White Eagle was taken 
to the Rand bungalow and the doctor 
was fetched. White Eagle had lost 
much blood and was badly mauled, but 
the doctor announced he would soon be 
well, provided the lacerations were kept 
clean. Janet said that it would be her 
duty to nurse him back to health. 

But before White Eagle would go to 
sleep he insisted that the sheriff should 
come to see him. 

"They were not Indians," muttered 
White Eagle as the sheriff bent over his 

The sheriff shook his head, imagining 
that White Eagle was delirious. 

" How do you make that out, Big 
Brave ?" 

"The tracks show that all the horses 
had shoes," White Eagle «spoke with 
difficulty. "Indian ponies are not 

"Afraid that don't prove a thing*" 
The sheriff shook his head. "They 
might have stolen those horses." 

" Indian know — one day he prove it." 
White Eagle sank back. "Now he sleep 
— get strong — then he go and find bad 

"Delirious, poor chap!" whispered 
Rand to the sheriff. "Best let him 

David Rand paused at the doorway 
to glance back. The eyes of White 
Eagle were closed, but the hand of 
Janet Rand was soothingly stroking the 
broad forehead. 

The Sun Maiden and Qrey Wolf. 

THE fine physique of W 7 hite Eagle 
caused the wounds to heal rapidly. 
Janet was a very practical young 
nurse, and she tended the man, who 
was her hero, as if he were a child. 

White Eagle would repose in an arm- 
chair on the veranda and always his 
eyes rested on the dainty curls of his 
nurse as she read aloud to him, but he 
was careful to look away when she 
glanced up. Perhaps Janet may have 
seen some of those glances, because she 
wondered at times why her heart raced 
so madly. 

Within a week White Eagle was able 
to go for a walk, and, a day or so later, 
for a short ride on his great white 
stallion, Silver. Naturally, Janet rode 
with him. 

Only one incident marred the peace. 
A Pony Express rider's horse came in 
badly wounded, and the body of the 
mail carrier was found very near the 
hold-up of the stage. An arrow pro- 
truded from his chest and the mail was 

Captain Barton sent out a trooper, but 
this man vanished. The officer was 
alarmed and sent six of his men with 
a special despatch. They got through 
to St. Joe, and a rider took the mes- 
sage towards Washington. The cap- 
tain urged that more soldiers should be 

Every Tuesday 

sent and asked for money for his men. 
It would be weeks before an answer 
could be received. 

Gregory gave instructions to his gang 
that a careful watch must be kept — so 
that a Pony Express rider should not 
bring an answer to Virginia City. 

"Suppose a letter slips through?" 
Kennedy was a craven at heart. "Why, 
if these folks find out that you're not 
the regular Government agent — what 
then ?" 

Gregory had laughed in his mocking 

"They might even go so far as to 
try and hang us ! I'm not ready to 
move yet, but the time is growing 

The killing of the Express rider had 
inflamed the people against the Indians, 
but the captain and the sheriff even- 
tually calmed the firebrands. Justice 
take its course. No good could be 
done until definite proof of the offend- 
ing tribe could be secured. 

Even White Eagle was looked upon 
with suspicion by many, but the brave 
ignored their glances. As he grew 
Stronger lie went riding in the early 
hours. He searched the hills for a 
out, because he was certain that the 
outrages and attacks were not Indian 
work. In the cool of the day he rode 
with Janet 

One day Gregory spoke to David 
Rand regarding these rides. Was it 
wise for a beautiful white girl to go 
about so much in the company of an 
Indian ? 

"Janet " — David had decided to speak 
to his sister—" it has been brought to 
nay notice that you are constantly in 
the company of White Eagle. You're 
still very much of a tenderfoot, my 
dear, and I suppose the Indians appear 
very romantic and picturesque to you." 

" But he is your best friend — your 
brother !" 

"He is, and no man could ask for a 


better," David answered. "But you 
mustn't forget he is an Indian." 

"You need not worry, Dave." Janet 
was sure of herself. "I may be roman- 
tic, but I'm not likely to forget that I 
am a Paleface and he is a Redskin." 

That very same day Janet went with 
White Eagle on their favourite ride. 
A lake surrounded by beeches and pines. 
Here they would rest a while and talk. 

White Eagle was in a serious mood. 

" Have you ever heard the story of 
the Sun Maiden?" 

"No — do tell me!" 

With legs crossed White Eagle 
squatted, and he stared over the water 
as he spoke : 

"A long time ago, before the white 
man came, a young man named Neep 
Queagant fell in love with a Sun 
Maiden This girl was so beautiful that 
the sun called her his daughter. She 
was sacred to the sun. Neep loved 
her very much, but he was poor and had 
never been on the warpath " 

"Poor fellow," sighed Janet. 

"He was afraid the Sun God would be 
angry with him for falling in love with 
this maiden," continued White Eagle. 
"One day he went out all by himself to 
the lodge of the badger. The badger is 
a wise animal. He .knows all the under- 
ground people, and has powerful medi- 
cine. " 

"What do you mean by medicine — 
h isdom ?" 

" Yes,' .'i great .spirit come- to you in 
a dream and tells you the trail to follow. 
The Badger told Neep to go out and 
prove he was brave — and to be always 
honest. The sun would like this better 
than a present of many horses. So the 

young man " White Eagle finished 

abruptly because the girl was gazing 
with wide, staring eyes at something 
behind him. His hand went to his knife. 

A thin, gaunt, wizened Indian chief 
uas standing but a few yards away. 
His arms were folded across his chest 


and the eyes blazed in a manner that 
made Janet shudder. 

White Eagle raised his hands in signal 
of greeting. 

"I have waited for you many days," 
said the old man in a tongue that only 
White Eagle understood. "If you arc 
a true Eagle of the Bannock you will 
come back to your own people. My 
shoulders are heavy with the snow of 
many winters and my eyes are dim with 
the smoke of many fires. You must lead 
our people on the warpath." 

"There is no war between the Bannock 
and the white man, my father." 

"There will be war. The white men 
make peace with a lie in their hearts. 
they lay their evil works at our door, 
and say the Indians have killed when it 
is a lie. Some day the Bannock. Payute 
and Shoshone must fight or die." 

"We are all brothers," answered 
White Eagle. " We are the children of 
the Great Spirit. When we learn the 
way of the white man we can all live 
together in peace. I know of what you 
speak, and I stay here to find out who 
is the cause of our troubles. Even these 
white people have their bad men." 

"Wlien the smoke clouds rise so must 
you return to your people," cried the 
old brave. "That is my last word, my 

Solemnly the old brave turned and 
walked softly away, whilst White Eaglo 
stared after him. This meeting with 
Grey Wolf made him realise how hard 
it was for an Indian to be friends with a 
palefaco girl. 

" What a murderous-looking old 
savage," cried Janet, when the chief of 
the Bannock tribe had disappeared. 
" Who is he?" 

White Eagle's head was bowed: 
"That was my father." 

"Oh — oh " Janet was thunder- 
struck. Her brother's warning came to 
her. "I think we'd better be going 

White Eagle spoke scarce a word until 

* % WtKSS i 
Captain Barton turned over the medallion and gave a gasp ol surprise. "This belonged to Major Harvey ! " he said. 

February 4th, 1988. 


the Rand bungalow was reached. There 
lie doffed his buckskin wide-awake. His 
wounds were healed and he would return 
to the corral to tend to the horses of 
the Government and the Pony Express. 
Janet wondered why she should feel so 
miserable as she watched the upright, 
broad-shouldered man stride away. 
Suddenly the stark truth came to her — 
she was falling in love with an Indian! 

The Trail of the Stolen Horses. 

WHITE EAGLE was talking to 
David Rand and Captain 
Barton about the long-overdue 
appearance of the Pony Express. It 
was a week since White Eagle had riden 
with Janet. For a reason the girl half- 
Linderstood, he avoided her. The 
Indian had volunteered to ride to St. 
Joe to find out if the rider had reached 
that .settlement when shouting startled 

"That's young Zack ! cried White 
Eagle. "Something is wrong." 

Bad news spreads quickly and by the 
time the three were running towards the 
corral a number of settlers had heard 
the cries. A bruised and battered Zack 
lay groaning on the ground. 

"What's happened to you, Zack?" 
cried Rand. " 

"I was on guard over the horses, 
groaned the boy. " I was thinkin' how 
Hue they looked when somethin' hit me 
on the head. Then Injuns stole all the 

"Indians!" cried White Eagle. "Are 
you certain? What did they look like?" 

"Injuns — that's all," answered Zack. 
"I saw the feathers and one of them hit 
me again. When I came round, I 
crawled out here." 

"Dave," White Eagle spoke earnestly 
to his friend. "I don't believe we know 
the truth about all this. We are being 
fooled with a lie." 

"How can you prove that?" 

"I can, if I can find those horses." 

A number of men had gathered round 
and there were angry mutterings at this 
latest outrage. Gregory was one of the 
loudest mouthed. 

"Maybe you know where those horses 
are, Injun'.'" he sneered. 

" When 1 have moje time you'll tell 
me what you mean by that." A dan- 
gerous glint shone in White Eagle's 
eyes. Gregory backed away, realising 
that his words had been hasty. " After 
I return from finding the horses." 
Swiftly White Eagle turned. "Dave, 
tend to Zack whilst I am gone. May 
the Great Spirit help to keep peaco 
between our two peoples, brother." 

From the Rands' own stable White 
Eagle went for his horse Silver, and 
slid out to trail the stolen horses. 

The trail was lost by a stream, but 
the tracker went up and down till he 
found the trail again. Wild horses cros- 
sing the trail was the next obstacle, and, 
after that, the feet of many cattle. The 
cattle and wild horses had been driven 
across the trail on purpose. 

White Eagle came at last to the cliffs 
and there he found a winding crevass 
between the rocks. Carefully ho picked 
his way over loose stones. The trail 
forked and he took the upper, less used, 
trail until ho came out on to a great 
rock that overlooked a small valley. 
Everywhere were horses, but what in- 
terested White Eagle most was a small 
pool a hundred feet below. 

A number of painted figures were 
there, anil as he watched the feathered 
head-dresses were removed. With shouts 
and coarse oaths the men dashed into the 
water. They were white men disguised 
is Redskins! 

Like the wind White Eagle rode back 
to Virginia (Jit v. 

February 4th, 1933. 


The Fury of the White Men. 

THE lust to kill had been roused in 
Virginia City. One cannot blame 
these white men for being so in- 
censed against the Indians. In the very 
early days the Redskins had attacked 
wagon trains, putting men, women and 
children to death — and this was not 
easily forgotten, even though there was 
peace at the moment between white man 
and Red Indian. 

The tempers of the men were sim- 
mering, just waiting for that little 
something that would cause rage to 
master their reason. The theft of the 
horses under their noses made them mad 
with humiliation, but soon after White 
Eagle had ridden away a discovery was 

A search had been made of the barns 
and a gruesome discovery came to light. 
A man rushed up to the sheriff while 
hi was discussing the latest outrage with 
David Rand. 

"We just found old Curly Bill- 
knifed in the back!" 

Curly Bill — dead!" cried Rand. 
"Why, he was on guard with another 
man, Dan Dawson." 

"Yeah, we found both of them," was 
the reply. "Both dead an' scalped!" 

"Scalped!" The sheriff beat a 
clenched fist into the palm of his left 
hand. "Who can have done this but 
Indians !" 

"It's Indian work right enough!" 
shouted David Rand, who was some- 
what of a firebrand. 

A crowd formed round the sheriff. 
"We ought to go out an' learn these 
murderin' coyotes a lesson!" came a 

" Yeah, that's the talk ! Why can't 
we wipe some of 'em out?" came a 
second cry. 

"I'm the law in this burg." The 
sheriff did not like the ugly tone. 
"Come along to the saloon an' I'll fix 
what we'll do." 

Gregory and Bart were in that shout- 
ing, infuriated mob and their voices 
were louder than any. Xearbv the 
saloon, Bart stayed his chief with a 
touch on the arm. 

"That scalpin' idea was all my own," 
boasted the rogue. 

"A most artistic touch," Gregory 
admitted. "The horses got through 
and all traces were removed'. - '' 

"Easy," laughed Bart. "Say, chief, 
we got all the horses we want, so why 
don't we get out of here?" 

"We're not leaving till I get good and 

"T know what's keepin' you here," 
jeered Bart. "It's that Rand girl." 

"My personal affairs are none of your 
business." The full lips twitched. "It 
is not healthy to talk as you are doing. 
Now, get inside and see if you can 
rouse 'cm to a frenzy." 

Everyone in the saloon was raving and 
shouting. The general cry was the ex- 
termination of all Indians. The sheriff 
at last obtained silence. 

"I want men for a posse to trail the 
Indians that 6tole those horses." 

"Trail 'em nothin' !" shouted one 
angry pioneer. "What we want to do 
is to smash some of their villages." 

This suggestion was received with 
hoarse cheers. 

"Wait a moment, boys. Don't go off 
half-cocked." The sheriff yelled himself 
hoarse to obtain silence. "It's easy 
enough to start trouble with th6 
Indians, but not so easy to stop it." 

"We ain't worried about that!" came 
the answer. 

"Burn up the pests!" shouted Bart. 

"There's a bunch of 'em camped on 
Squaw Creek," hinted Gregory. "Maybe 

Every Tuesday 

they stole my horses ? Let's wipe 'em 

" Rand, I don't like this," the sheriff 
muttered to the superintendent. "I'd 
like to lynch them Injuns myself, but 
is it wise? Dave, what would Captain 
Barton say ?" 

"To blazes with the captain," re- 
torted Rand. "The Government horses 
stolen, some of the Pony Express' ; three 
valuable men 6calped and — we do no- 
thing ! We want revenge. We " 

The saloon doors burst open, and there 
was White Eagle. 

"Wait! Wait! Listen to me, every- 
body," panted the brave. "You have 
all been fooled. You believe in a lie!" 

A disgruntled murmur: 

"The same old tale," hissed Bart con- 

"Let White Eagle talk!" cried the 

"Those horse thieves were not Indians 
— they were white men dressed as 
Indians." He held out his hands in an 
appealing gesture. "I've seen them — 
I can lead you to them." 

"Ah, don't believe him." Bart's 
voice attracted all eyes. "The only 
reason he's sayin' to protect them 
Injuns is because he's a thievin' Red- 
skin himself. You wouldn't find any 
white men dressed as Injuns." He 
iaughed. "White Eagle would lose the 
trail an' have 6ome other likely yarn 
prepared. Are you gonna suffer the 
Injuns to rob and murder " 

"No! No!" came the clamour. 

The sheriff and Rand had to hold 
White Eagle back. 

"The skunk," White Eagle cried. 
"Sheriff, if these men go into Indian 
country — there'll be war!" 

"I reckon you'd better lock him up 
before he sneaks out to warn them." 
This came from Gregory. "Why not 
put him in gaol, sheriff?" 

"No, he hasn't committed any 
crime." The sheriff slid a hand to his 
hip. "Why don't you give him a try- 

But the hoarse bellowing of Bart and 
one or two others inflamed all the other 
men to a lust for revenge. Several of 
them bought liquor to encourage their 
ardour, and after that there was no 
holding them. 

"I've got a room behind the saloon 
with iron bars to it." the saloon-keeper 
called out. "Look him up there, 
sheriff! I'll free him when we get back 
from wipin' out these Redskins." 

"Best let the men have their own 
way, or else they may lynch White 
Eagle." whispered Rand. 

"All right, lock him up." The sheriff 
nodded to the saloon-keeper. "But I 
ain't ridin' with you on this fool trip. 
Why can't we talk this over with Cap- 
tain Barton?" 

Bart began to shout and rave. It 
well suited the plans of the two crooks 
that there should be a murderous attack 
on the Indian camp. 

White Eagle was dragged away, thrust 
into a room, and the door locked upon 
him. All the while he protested and 
argued, but these men were killers with 
the blood lust, aroused. 

Waving their guns and shouting, about 
fifty men swarmed out of the 6aloon and 
raced off to get their horses; but, when 
the maddened mob rode out of town 
Gregory and Bart were not with them. 

The Escape. 

WHITE EAGLE paced his prison, 
an old lumber room. Not often 
does the Indian show signs of 
deep emotion, but now he was over- 
wrought. Unless he could 6top these 
fool white men they would massacre that 

Every Tuesday 

small Indian settlement, and then the 
smoke clouds of war would rise from 
every hill. Terrible bloodshed would 
ensue, and, though the war might last 
for many moons, the white man with 
his modern weapons and cannon was 
bound to win. What made White Eagle 
so mad was that the stealings, the hold- 
ups, and the scalpings were not Indian 
work, but the sinister schemings of men 
disguised as Indians. They must have 
a chief with a master brain. 

He thought then of Gregory and how 
the Government buyer of horses had 
excited these men to attack the Indians. 
That was not the act of an officer. 
White Eagle paused abruptly in his 
strides. For a moment he imagined that 
he had heard some noise under the floor. 
He tried the bars of the window for the 
sixth time, but they were beyond his 
strength, so with a resigned, despairing 
shrug he went back to his thoughts. 
Gregory and that man Bart? Suspicions 
began to grow as he pieced small inci- 
dents together. 

This time there was a noise under the 
floor. He stared down in surprise and 
then, through a crack in the boards, 
carve a small saw. The teeth twisted 
and turned until the edge could rasp a 
straight cut. 

White Eagle went to the grilled door 
of the lumber room and stared out. 
Old Joe, the bar sweeper, eat in a chair 
smoking a pipe. He might hear this 
Boise. The Indian found a box and 
placed it in front of the busy saw, then 
he began to chant in his queer tongue. 

"Hey, what's goin' on in here?" Joe 
I through the bars. 

'"Making medicine to help me 
escape," White Eagle answered. "The 
Spirit will come to my aid.'' 

"If you try to escape, 
you'd better have medicine 
that can stop a bullet." Joe 
held up the gun significantly. 

White Eagle still chanted 
on, arid Joe went back to his 
chair. The saw went 
through one board. 
A section of the same 
board was half cut, 
and as it was pushed 
up White Eagle sang 
very loudly — so Joe 
r In aid the snap ! 

" S t o p that con- 
founded r o w !" h e 
i . 1 1 White 

face of young Zack 

stand up at his hero. 

the saw up 

and strong wrists set 

k on the rotten 

Wood, Hearing a 

shuffling outside, the 

saw was passed back 

k. Joe glared 

saw nothing 

wrong, loosed off a 

few oaths and Went 

back to his chair. 

Th'- -I-' ond board 

h r o u g h. 

i o was a foot 

clearance under the 

Boor, and like a snake 

the Indian wormed In - 

way into the hole, He 

crawled after / 

and ' .mie out at the 

back of the burn. 

"Ketch Silver 

With an understand- 
ing nod the youngster 
aped away. Whistling 
in a a unconcerned 
manner, Zack fet< bed 


the horse to the back of the saloon. A 
shout warned White Eagle that his 
escape had been discovered. Like a 
flash he got to horse. 

"Get back to the barns, Zack," 
urged the brave. "You need know 
nothing of my escape. The Great Spirit 
shall reward you for what you have 

A clutter of hoofs and, like the wind, 
White Eagle streaked down the main 
street. Old Joe fired, but his aim was 
far short of the mark. 

White Eagle took all number of 
chances to gain time. He called upon 
the Great Spirit to stop the Palefaces. 
A cold chill went through his heart as 
he schemed what he should do if he 
reached the Indian village before the 
Palefaces. Would he have to fight 
against his friends? 

The clouds of smoke rising in the air 
answered the question for him. Sounds 
of shooting and distant yells; but as 
White Eagle lessened the distance to the 
village the smoke increased, while the 
firing ceased. 

He stared down on a scene of desola- 
tion. The tents and wigwams were in 
flames. The bodies of Indians— men, 
n and little children, lay scattered 
around. He wondered if any of his 
■ n had escaped the massacre. 

His eyes saw a great belch of smoke 
go upwards. All along the hills the 
smoke was rising. Like lightning the 
bad news had spread. There came the 
distant, sinister rolling of a drum. 

After a quick and vain search to see 
if any lived, White Eagle galloped back 
to Virginia City. By a detour he made 
his way to the bungalow of the Rands, 


hitched his horse to the rail, and en- 
tered the house. 

Janet was seated at a work-basket, 
sewing. A flush mantled her cheek at 
sight of the Indian warrior. 

"White Eagle, what brings you here?" 

"I have come to warn you." He spoke 
in solemn tones. " Blind fools have 
raided an Indian village and driven them 
to war." 


"Yes, war! Signal smoke has taken 
the word to every tribe." His hands 
seemed to encompass the world. "Those 
distant drums call the warriors from far 
and wide. The heart of every Indian 
is filled with hate for the white man. 
The Bannocks, Shoshones, Payutes, will 
all join the warpath.'' 

" And you ' 

Janet a^ked the ques- 

tion anxiously. 

" The wrongs my people have suffered 
are heavy in my heart." 

"Then you will join them?" Janet 
realised how much this strange v. 
Indian meant to her. He was to be- 
come an enemy instead of a friend. 

"No!" His answer surprised her. "I 
have strange feelings in my blood. Do 
not think I am a coward, but the ways 
of the White Man are my ways, and yet 
the call of the Great Spirit comes to 
me, saying that my place is with my 

"Stay here with us." There was an 
eager light in Janet's eyes that White 
Eagle understood. 

"Janet." He spoke her name for the 
first time. "You mean you " 

The door burst open, and there stood 
an angry figure. David Rand, with 
hands clenched and blazing eyes. 

"1 was afraid something like this 

A sinewy hand was round Gregory's throat In a throttling grip, and a hand of steel 

was holding his gun arm. 

February »tb, 


would happen." He spoke bitterly. "I 
tried to warn you." 

White Eagle's arms fell away from 
Janet's shoulders and his face was like 
a graven image as he faced the angry 

Rand had been inflamed by the theft 
of the horses and the scalping. He had 
taken no part in the destruction of the 
Indian village; if so, this blood-lust of 
revenge might have been abated. But 
he scowled at White Eagle. 

"I treated you like a white man," 
he cried. ""But you have forgotten that 
you are an Indian." As the man fac- 
ing him made no answer Dave's hot 
temper mastered him and his hand 
slapped White Eagle across the cheek. 
"Perhaps this may remind you that you 
arc a Redskin!" 

"Dave!" Janet cried out in protest. 
If she expected White Eagle to leap at 
her brother she was mistaken. 

" An Indian — a Redskin — I under- 
stand." White Eagle folded his arms 
across his chest. "I was a fool not 
to listen to the words of Grey Wolf, my 
father. I am a Bannock warrior — I be- 
long with my people. Through you has 
the Great Spirit guided me." 

With set expression White Eagle went 
to the open door and was gone without 
one backward glance. 

David Rand bit his lip, because Janet 
had flung herself on to a couch and was 
sobbing as if her heart would break. 

" Farewell, Sun Maiden ! " 

MUCH happened in the next few 
days. Settlers had to abandon 
homesteads and seek the safety of 
Virginia City. The Indians were every- 
where. The hotheads realised what they 
had done now it was too late. A con- 
voy of prairie schooners lost half their 
men before making the safety of the 

Captain Barton used much strong 
language. He had heard of the inci- 
dent in the saloon, and the sheriff re- 
ceived the greatest slanging of his life. 

"Because the Injuns — a renegade 
band — .--teal some horses and do some 
scalping, you allow a lot of fools to 
burn up an Indian village! Nothing 
more <"' less than mufder. Now the 
blame is as much on the shoulders of 
the White Man as on the Indians. 1 
believe there was something to White 
Eagle's story, but. your 'friends would 
in it listen. And what have you done to 
that great warrior? He has gone back 
to his people, and though White Eagle 
'has killed no one, he has destroyed 
many homesteads. I lay this destruction 
as much at your feet, sheriff, and your 
hot headed friends as anyone else." 

"It seemed Injun work to me," mut- 
tered the sheriff'. 

"Most of the relay stations have been 
wiped out," snapped the captain. 
" Unless I can make peace, I shall have 
to get many soldiers -and the battle 
will be long and bitterly fought. 1 am 
going out with my men to find White 
Eagle to make peace, and "■ — he paused 
significantly — "if any of your hotheads 
want to start any more killings — you 
clap them in gaol or fill them full of 

And with those words Captain Barton 
turned his back on the sheriff and strode 
away to give orders to his company. 

What of Janet and her brother? The 
girl had lost colour and seemed listless. 
'Alien David suggested that she should 
go back to an aunt of theirs in Washing- 
ton, she agreed. 

''I will get you away from here as 
soon as possible." David tried to coin- 
February 4th, 1933. 


fort her. "What I did, Janet, was for 
the best." 

" You have made White Eagle the 
enemy of our people." Her voice was 
fierce. "I hope he gets some of those 
men who wiped out that Indian village." 
With a toss of her head she went to her 

Most days she went riding to the lake 
where White Eagle had begun his story 
of the nervous young brave and the 
Sun Maiden. Her brother did not know 
she rode that way, or he would have 
told her of danger from roving bands 
of Redskins. 

Janet was sitting on the bank, a prey 
to her thoughts, when a blood-curdling 
yell made her look up. A terrible 
creature, bedaubed with paint and with 
many gaudy feathers in his head- 
dress, was stealthily advancing towards 
her. In his hand was a tomahawk. 

The girl screamed with fear and ran 
towards her horse. 

In spite of the fact that White Eagle 
was now a fighting warrior, he could 
not sever his ties with the Palefaces. 
Especially did he think of Janet, and 
perhaps it was the Great Spirit that 
caused him to ride towards the lake 
where he had ridden so often with 

His keen eyes saw a horse in the valley 
below. Then he saw that bedaubed 
figure with raised tomahawk. As Janet 
screamed, White Eagle was urging his 
horse, Silver, in a mad gallop down the 

The hands of the dark-skinned Indian 
brave had gripped Janet by the- throat 
when White Eagle flung himself from 
his horse. The upraised tomahawk was 
wrenched from the brown hands. 

The Shoshone cursed White Eagle as 
a traitor and rushed in to kill him, but 
Janet's hero stopped the attack with a 
mighty punch with his right. The Sho- 
shone dropped, but was up in a flash. 
How Janet's heart thrilled as White 
Eagle's mighty arms picked up the brave 
in his arms and raised him high above 
his head. Screeching with fear, the vic- 
tim went flying through the air, to 
land with a splash in the waters of the 

For a moment White Eagle watched 
the floundering warrior before smiling 
at Janet. Never before had she seen 
him in the costume of an Indian chief. 
A mighty plume of feathers was on his 
massive head , he was stripped to the 
waist; ornamented and fringed buck- 
skin trousers, and his feet were firm 
in plaited mocassins. A magnificent 

figure of a man. 

"We must get away from here." He 
beckoned her. "He may make mis- 
chief. My orders were that no white 
woman should be harmed." 

White Eagle placed the girl on the 
saddle of his horse and then mounted 
behind her. 

"I will take you to safety." 

With one arm he held her, and she 
thrilled at his touch. 

"Twice you have saved me," she 

"The Great Spirit guided me," was 
his simple answer, and, after this, 
became strangely silent. 

From a lofty spur his keen eyes 
sighed the squadron of cavalry under 
Captain Barton. 

" Soldiers, I will turn you over to 
them. You will be safer." 

"But they will- capture you." 

Janet was anxious. 

"No. They will respect the flag of 
truce." To a spear ho tied a piece of 
white cloth. "Captain Barton is a man 
to be trusted." 

Every Tuesday 

Captain Barton rode forward uione 
when he saw' the Indian. The cavalry 
waited in readiness for any treachery. 

"White Eagle, I've been trying to 
reach you," cried the captain. " You 
and 1 have important business to 

"First 1 will turn this lady captive 
over to you," was the grave reply. 
" Miss Rand did not understand her 

"1 am honoured to accept your trust." 
The captain spoke gravely. The girl 
was lowered from tho saddle. "I have 
a spare horse that Miss Rand can ride." 

" Now must 1 go back to my people." 
White Eagle spoke reluctantly. " There 
is war between you and me." 

"The Indians are foolish to make 
war. Their fight is hopeless." 

"We did not start the war. The 
White Man sent us on the warpath." 

" If the Indians will make peace, 1 
promise justice." The captain spoke 
earnestly. "Will you get that word to 
your chiefs ? And ask them to meet me 
in council in your village?" 

"I will take your word to Grey Wolf, 
my father." 

"Thank you, White Eagle." Captain 
Barton knew something of the friendship 
that existed between the white maiden 
and the Indian brave. "I hope when 
we meet again it will be in peace." He 
turned his horse. " We will wait for 
you, Miss Rand." 

" For a little while our trails ran side 
by side," White Eagle told the girl of 
his heart. "That is a memory I shall 
always treasure. Good-bye." 

"And in mine " — there was a catch in 
her voice — "it must be good-bye, but I 
say so with great sorrow." 

" We have been friends. No cloud of 
unhappiness can ever cast a shadow 
over that memory." White Eagle, on his 
horse Silver, moved slowly away. 
"Farewell, Sun Maiden!" 

Not till the White Indian had dis- 
appeared over the crest of the hill did 
the girl walk slowly towards the waiting 
captain and his troopers. 

Gregory Plans a Get-Away. 

DAVID RAND decided that as his 
beloved sister wanted to get back 
to Washington he might go as 
well. As he told the sheriff, this war 
had smashed up the Pony Express and 
his job. 

" Fine job you fellows did in learning 
the Indians a lesson!" 

"I was all agin it," growled the 
sheriff. "Were you?" 

But David Rand was unable to 
answer. Gregory hailed him. 

The cattle thief had had news that 
had changed his plans. A Pony Express 
rider had attempted to get through; 
Bart and his disguised Indians had 
given chase, anil, though they had shot 
the rider, the horse had got away. If 
that mail were picked up it would go 
hard with Gregory. He instructed Bart 
to. prepare for company on their trip 
towards the border. 

"My work is finished here," lied 
Oregory to Dave. "I am going back to 
St. Joe and then to Washington. I 
could give you a good position in my 

Rand accepted the offer with alacrity. 
Gregory very readily agreed to Janet's 
accompanying them. The crook 

twitched his small moustache as David 
hurried off to tell the good news. He 
had guessed Rand would want to take 
his sister— so everything was working 
according to plan. 

(Continued on page 26.) 

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA 17 

A tale of the playing fields and how the lure of gambling nearly ruined the lives of two 

young athletes. 


OFA * 

Hero Worship. 

A HUNDRED thousand football Emu 
packed the terraces of the Cali- 
fornian stadium and yelled en- 
igemeat to the men in mid-field. 

It was a day of days for the Pacific 

University, the closing match of a 

>ii that had bees singularly 

triumphant, and their collegian op- 
ponents of Western Universttj were 
crumpling under tho hon. 
I at tucks. 

From the ( 'auadian border to the 
Mexican line, millions of followers of 
the game were eagerly listening -in to 
a running commentary over the radio 
— followers of the sport that playi 
prominent a part in the social !r 

"(Jarry King takes a Ion/ pass from 

Noble," the onnouaeer was saying 

"There ho goes, and it looks as if 

nothing will stop him I" 

Garry King! The name was a by- 
• or : ihusiasts of tin- Ameiiean 

f rxjt l>;il 1 code, that stern test of man 
hood calling for superb skill, tough 
Stamina and brute force. Garry King- 
tie- Mar of stars in Pacific Dnivei 
wonder team, the youngster who bid 
carried them through to victory niter 
victory and piled up a record number 
of points in the inter-eoUegi 

In padded suit and helmet, with the 
oval ball "hug to his body, 

Garry mado straight for thi 
goal- 1 inc. He was running as swifrl/ 

as a dear, but, though his 

lithe and free, there was 
reminiscent of a buffalo's rush in the 
style with which ho hurled himself over 
the turf. 

A defender attempted to tackle him — 
a young fellow kie. n ■ Ped Bowen. 
»ho occupied one of tho guard posi- 

S tarring 


tions in Western University's team. 
There was an ugly collision, and 
Bowen went down, but Garry King 
raced on with' scarcely a falter. 

Hen wave spaedma to intercept him. 
Garry b affl ed one with a powerful hand 
off, dodged two others in rapid - 
-ion with a zig-zag swerve that de- 
lighted the howling spectators, then 
planted tho ball behind the rival goal- 
posts and earned six points for his 

Up on the score, board, tho tally 
! at fourteen for Pacific and -i\ 
for Western University. The fourteen 
was changed to twenty amid roars ot 
applause, but a solemn silence fell over 
the crowd as Ted Bowen was seen leav- 
in;; the Said on a stretcher, suffering 
from internal injuries that were 
tmed to cripple him for life. 

\ took his place, and. play 

being resumed, (Jarry eonverted the 
try that he had made by kicking a 

■iful goal between the tall peats. 
"The King can do no wrong.' i 
tho announcer on the radio. "Thi 

of the season, and his 
final appearance for his University, for 
he'll have finished college before 
tnd. Well, it 
looks as if he's going to make his exit 
in a blase of glory." 

nnouncer was right, for before 

ml of the match Garry had CTOSSe I 

lines twiee more, and whe.i 

he trotted off tho pitch the air fairly 

vibrated with the thunderous accl 
lion? of thi ors. 

In the Pacific 'cam's dressing-room, a 

small, bald-headed man mingled with 
the players. He was Chick Snipe, 
their coach, an individual wh 
countenance was for ever mournful, 
and in spite of the side's magnifii 
win his faeo bore no trace of good 

"What's i lie matter, Chick?" Garry 
asked him, pulling off his helmet. "Are 
jou -ore about something?" 

" Yeah," the coach growled. "I'm 

ise this is your last year, 
you'll be leavin' when you're gradu- 
ated. So will Ste\e Kelly and 

Wliittlebottoni," be added, indicating 

two stalwarts near by, "and I don't 
know how I'm gonna make up a cam 

thai could even be called passable." 

"That's what you sav at the end of 
every season," Steve Kelly put in with 

a laugh. " Why don't you keep 

OH young Bob, dairy's brother? 

II' been shaping well in the t 
man's team, I hear." 

Chiek Knipe grunted, and m<" 

id tho dressing room while tl e 
players changed from football rig to 
everyday (lollies. Meanwhile, out on 
the field, a brass band was playing the 

collego song of Pacific University, and 
Garry King moved somewhat wistfully 
tow ards the w indow. 
Steve Kelly and Lug Wbittlebol 

joined him there. They were his par- 
ticular cronies 111 tie' -Indent li r e of 

the University — being a big, awk- 
ward but likeable simpleton i Steve a 
hard-headed young fellow with whom 

(Jarry planned to go into bu 

February 4th, 1933. 


soon as they had finished studying 
building construction. 

"This is the last time we'll hear 
that music from here," Garry mur- 
mured. "I'm kind of sorry, I guess." 

"Hoy. Garry," Lug Wluttlebottom 
interposed, "you sure played a great 
game to-day. Did you hear the waj 
that mob out there cheered you V 

"I couldn't be olf hearing em, could 
I?" Garry retorted with a grin. 

Garry was the idol of the moment. 
Indeed, he had experienced hero 
worship for two or three seasons, and 
he rattier revelled in it. But, had he 
been anywhere within earshot of the 
stadium's Press-room, where a couple of 
reporters were 'phoning the result of 
the game to their respective news- 
papers, he might have overheard a 
conversation that would have given 
him cause to reflect. 

"It's all wrong, Sam," one of the 
pressmen said, while he waited for 
an answer to his call. "I mean, sending 
these youngsters out into the world 
with ail this false glory. Take Garry 
King — all America is talkin' about 
him, and today 1 believe the people ot 
this State would elect him Governor 
if he cared to put up for oflicc. But 
he'll be a back number by the time he 
leaves college, and he'll be lucky if he 
can even get a job " 

There was wisdom in the words, as 
Garry himself was to find out one day, 
but tor the moment he had not a care 
in the world, and it was in high spirits 
that he made his way home, where he 
received the congratulations of his 
father and mother and his younger 
brother Bob, who was in his first year 
at the same college. 

There were two girls there as well. 
One was Irene Steftens, a sweet-looking 
blonde whom Garry hoped to marry 
as soon as he left college and found a 
job. The other was little Betty Carstairs, 
who was going around with young Bob. 

Garry spent a little time in their 
company, but he was due to attend 
a dinner that was to be held in honour 
of the Pacific team, and, when he had 
changed into evening clothes, he left 
for the restaurant where the function 
was to take place. 

Business men, professional men and 
politicians were there — men in almost 
every walk of life, but all had a com- 
mon interest in football, and all gave 
Garry King a tremendous ovation. He 
was the paramount figure of interest 
at the reception, and was treated with 
fine admiration and respect. 

Garry was placed next to a man who 
was introduced to him as Harcourt. 

"I'm mighty glad to meet you, 
King," Harcourt told him. "I've been 
m the East for a long while, and only 
saw you play to-day for the first time. 
As a matter of fact I came West earlier 
than I intended — just to see the game. 

I couldn't believe all the things they 
were saying about you. but I'm afraid 
they didn't do you justice." 

Garry (hanked him modestly, and 
Harcourt went on speaking. 

"What are you going to do when you 
leave college, King?" Ik- inquired.- 

"Going into the construction business 
with Steve Kelly," Garry answered. 
"But you know, it's funny. I— I feel 
as d I'd almost left college now ." 

"ll'm," ila.'court mused. "Say, King, 
you may not realise n, but right now 
you've got what business men spend 

years trying to acquire. You've got a 

Garry's handsome face seemed a little 

" In throe seasons of football." 
Harcourt proceeded, "you've made the 
name of Garry King moan a good deal. 
Why it's known all over America, and 

February 4th, 1933. 


you ought to cash in on it. Did you 
ever think of the bond business?" 

Garry shook his head. "No, 1 didn't," 
he confessed. 

" Well, the firm I control is the 
biggest bond house in New York," 
Harcourt declared, " and I'm opening 
up a branch right here in California. 
I could use a man like you, King, and 
I know you could sell the bonds all 
right." . 

Harcourt was right enough. As long 
as his popularity lasted, Garry would 
be able to sell anything with the 
minimum amount of effort. And while 
urging the youngster to make a profit 
'out of his name, Harcourt knew full 
well that he could gain some consider- 
able advantage himself. 

"It sounds interesting," Garry 

Cashing In. 

A WEEK or two later, Garry and 
his brother Bob might have been 
seen playing around with a foot- 
ball in the gaiuen ot their father's home 
while Irene Steflens and Betty Carstairs 
watched them trom the porch. 

Garry was coaching Bob in the art of 
back-field play, and was concentrating 
on accurate passing. 

"Bob," he admonished, after some 
practise. " when I throw you the ball 
you don't have to look at it to get the 
right hold on it. And when you sling 
it across in a pass, don't telegraph 
what you're going to do. One thing 
more — throw it overhand and follow 
through with it, and whatever you do 
don't underthrow." 

"Gee, Garry," Bob breathed, 
" there's a lot of fine points about the 
game that you've got to study up. But 
you wait — I'll make good — and one day 
you'll see me in the All-America team, 
the same as you were last season." 

His eyes gleamed and his youthful 
features were transformed with the 
enthusiasm of that ambitious purpose — 
to win his place among those select 
few who were picked every year to 
represent the whole of America, and 
who stood out as the stars of the 
collective universities. 

"Go ahead, Bob," Garry told him, 
"and I hope you get your wish." 

A voice hailed Garry at that moment, 
and, turning his head, the football idol 
saw a' small, alert-looking individual 
who was flourishing a document in his 
hand. He was Willie Post by name, 
and his activities were many and lucra- 
tive. Publicity, advertising, journalism 
—he was interested in all these, and at 
the same time he was manager of a 
football league team of ex-college stars, 
banded together under the title of the 
Californian Wildcats. 

Garry walked over to him, and Willie 
handed him the paper he was carrying. 
It was an advertisement for a bathing 
costume, and it bore the following 
legend : 

"No doubt about it, the Sylph Swim- 
ming Suit is the best I ever wore. — 
GARRY KING, Famous All- America 

Garry was cashing in on his name m 
more ways than one. By permitting 
himself to be exploited in this fashion 
he was obtaining high fees, while 
Willie Post retained a percentage for act- 
ing as go-between. 

"Hole's the Sylph Company's agree- 
ment." Willie announced, producing a 
typo-written note. "Sign on the dotted 
line, and I'll collect the cheque. By 
the way. I've got two for you in my 
pocket right now — one for four hundred 
and fifty dollars from Dougherty's 
Pickled Fig Factory, the other from 

Every Tuesday 

the Marsh Woollen Mills for the same 

Garry took the cheques, signed the 
Sylph Company's agreement, and then 
strolled back towards the porch, where 
Irene met him. 

"Oh, Garry," the girl said, "I want 
to talk to you!" 

She linked arms with him and walked 
across the garden. They sat down on a 
rustic seat, and Irene spoke again. 

"I'm just a little worried, Garry," 
she told him. "Is it true you've quit 
college ?" 

"Oh, I've got a pip of a job with 
a fellow called Harcourt," Garry 
answered light-heartedly. "Selling 


"But you won't graduate?" Irene 

Garry shrugged. 

"What of it?" he said. "Why hang 
around waiting for a diploma when 1 
can make a thousand dollars a month ? 
A smart man never lets an opportunity 
pass, Irene, and I've got something that 
takes most people a life-time to acquire. 
I've got a name, and I'm going to cash 
in on it." 

Irene was not satisfied. A change was 
coming over Garry — it was as if the 
possibilities of fame had suddenly been 
revealed to him, and had gone to his 
head. He had lost that refreshing air of 
modesty that had always been so charac- 
teristic of him, and he seemed exalted 
by self-assurance and false sense of his 
own importance. 

" Say, you know who I'm going to 
see to-day?" Garry proceeded. "Old 
Neuchard the financier — in person. And 
will I sell him a fat bunch of bonds? 
You bet I will. But I'd better be get- 
ting along there now, for my appoint- 
ment's for three o'clock." 

He left home shortly afterwards, and 
took a taxi into the city centre, where- 
he alighted outside a block of preten- 
tious offices. 

He entered the building, gave his 
name to a clerk, and, after only a minute 
or two of waiting, was shown into a 
luxurious office. It was occupied by 
Neuchard, a man of some fifty odd years, 
and by a girl of about Garry's own age, 
amazingly beautiful and fashionably 

"Garry King," exclaimed Neuchard, 
as heartily as if he were greeting a close 
friend, "I'm certainly glad to meet you. 
Oh, let me introduce my daughter, 

"How do you do?" Garry said 

The girl held out her hand. She had 
rather bold eyes, flirtatious eyes that 
seemed to smile at him a little too 

"So you're Garry King," she declared. 
"Well, you looked different last time 
I saw you. That was on the football 
field, of course. I never heard such an 
ovation " 

"Now, my dear," her father broke 
in, "you'd better run along. Mr. King 
and I have business to talk." 

"Oh, all right!" Gloria answered in a 
resigned tone. " Business comes first, 1 
suppose. Thanks for the cheque, dad — 
I'll be able to pay some of my bills 
now. And good-bye. Mr. King— perhaps 
I'll see you again some time." 

"1 hope so," Garry murmured. 

"Hope you get your hope," Gloria 
said cheerfully, and made her way from 
the office. 

Neuchard drew up a chair for Garry, 
and then, seating himself at his desk, 
he leaned forward to address the 

"Say. King," he began, before Garry 
could mention bonds, "I've been talking 
to some friends about that last game 

Every Tuesday 

you played in. Now, how was it that 
Kaiser, Western University's left tackle, 
was able to gain consistently against 
your side, while Payson, their star man, 
never made a yard?" 

"Well, Kaiser is just a plunger," 
Garry explained swiftly, "'while Payson 
is one of the cleverest open held 
runners in the country. So Chick 
Knipe figured out a defensive scheme, 
and concentrated the necessary men on 
on, thereby breaking down his 
favourite moves. The centre of our line 
v. .is consequently left open, and Kaiser 
gained ground in the rushes. But that 
proved less disastrous than letting Pay- 
son run wild." 

Neuchard rubbed his hands and gave 
an exclamation of satisfaction. Then he 
called out over his shoulder, and from 
an adjoining room came two of his 
ness associates, whom he introduced 
to Garry as Mr. Rollins and Mr. Davis. 

"I had a little bot with them," Neu- 
chard told Garry. "I said it was foxy 
old Chick Knipe who was more re- 
sponsible for stopping Payson than any 
of the actual players on the field." 

It was odd to see a man of Neuchard's 
financial abilities waxing as lively as a 
schoolboy over the Pacific-Wi 
irarne, and Garry became a little im- 

"Mr. Neucbard," ho said. "I'm with 

jurt and Company, and I think you 

might be interested in some particular 

fine securities " 

^ "Oh, by the way," put in Rollins, 
"what sort of a team will Pacific have 
next year? I've heard talk about 
young brother of yours." 

:.v answered, "he put up 
a good show with the freshmen's team. 
confidential!;, Harcourt and Com- 
pany recommend Siena bonds " 

i. Garry," Neuchard inter- 
r •!, "I don't see how your br< 


is going to fill your shoes in the Pacific 
team, good as he may be." 

"But about these bonds," Garry re- 
sumed in desperation, "I " 

"Oh, bonds!" Neuchard scoffed. "I've 
got all kinds — good, bad and indifferent. 
Say, here's another thing I wanted to 
ask you, Garry. You remember when 
you had the ball on Western's four- 
yard line " 

Garry leaned back weakly. Ten 
minutes later he came out of Neuchard's 
office with a somewhat dejected look, 
and he was stepping out into the street 
when he saw the girl Gloria at the 

She was standing by a small sports 
car. and, as she beckoned to him smil- 
ingly, ho moved towards her. 

"Were you trying to sell my father 
something?" she inquired. 

"Bonds," Garry answered ruefully. 

"And you weren't very successful." 
.-he drawled. "No, of course not. Well, 
you know, I might be an awful lot of 
help to you. Jump in, and let's talk 
it over." 

They entered the car, and Gloria 
pn-.ed the self-starter. A moment later 
she was driving along the street and 
talking to him gaily. 

She insisted on him accompanying 
her to a garden party at a friend's 
house, and here Garry was introduced 
to a crowd of San Francisco's smart 

"Carry King? "Say, what do you 
think of Pacific's chances next year?" 

"Oh, don't bother Mr. King about 
football now," Gloria interposed laugh- 
ingly. "He's more interested in selling 
• at the moment." 
that BO?" someone else observed. 


"Well, have a whisky-and-soda, King." 

Garry shook his head. 

"I never touch it," he rejoined, but 
a glass was pushed into his hand, and 
reluctantly he accepted it. 

High Life. 

GARRY KING was stepping in 
Society, and his home and his 
friends saw less and less of him 
as the weeks rolled by. He was still 
engaged in trying to make a deal with 
Neuchard, but he found it difficult to 
pin tho financier to a discussion on 

Garry was losing grip of himself. 
Even Irene could not arouse in him 
those sterling qualities that had 
formerly predominated in his char- 
acter. Indeed, he saw very little of 
Irene these days, for Gloria Neuchard 
monopolised him with all the fervour a 
child might display over a new toy. 

She liked to have him around, and 
show him off to the fashionable set 
as her admirer, the lion of the moment. 
But Garry was fast fading from tho 
limelight of public favour, and even 
to the keenest of football fans he was 
becoming only a memory. 

Six months after be had left college, 
Garry met Steve Kelly in the street, 
and his former chum greeted him 

"Cot ready for the big news, Carry." 
declared. " Within three v. 
of graduating. I've landed a contract, 
and the firm of Kelly ami King is go- 
ing into action. It's that dry lake 
job in the Mohave Desert — remember, 
the one I told you about last time I 
saw you." 

"'Hi. yes, Steve," Garry murmured. 

"It's not a Panama Canal job," 
went on. "but it's a start. Forty 
thousand feet of concrete, and working 

He risked his last few discs. 

Red thirty-four was the number on which he laid them. 

February tth, 1933, 


in a temperature of a hundred and t 
thirty in tlie shade. But we can live on ' 
ten dollars a week down there, and 
we'll put all the money we have in 
equipment. Boy, five, years from now 
we'll be building rim rock dams like 
the Los Angeles Aqueduct." 

Garry looked at him a trifle 
sheepishly. "Well, that's great, Steve," 
he said, "'but — well, you see. I've got 
tins job with Harcourt, and it looks 
good. It's easy money, and I — I hate 
to pass it up." 

"But I've counted on you, Garry," 
Steve protested. "We agreed to pool 
;;11 our cash, didn't we? I haven't 
enough to carry out this contract alone." 
"I'm not letting you down, Steve," 
Garry told him. "I'm still with you— 
fifty-fifty. Look, you go down there 
ain't start sweating, and I'll supply the 
monev — see ? " 

"All right," Steve agreed. "I'll open 
up a joint account at the bank — for 
Kelly and King." 

They parted, and Garry walked home. 
As he was entering the house the 
'phone bell started to ring, and when 
he lifted the receiver he heard the voice 
of Irene. 

"Oh, is that you, Garry?" she said. 
"I've been trying to get you. Is it 
all right for tomorrow night?" 

Garry bit his lip. " Well, no, it 
isn't, Irene," he muttered. " You see, 
I've got to transact some business, and 
it's going to knock our whole week-end 
sky high. It's this Neuchard deal." 

"Oh. Garry — Neuchard again." she 
said in a disappointed tone. "It — it 
seems ages since I've seen you." 

"I know, and I feel fierce about it, 
too." he apologised, "but I've been 
invited to go aboard his yacht for a 
fortnight's cruise along the coast, and 
I can't, turn down this chance of selling 
him those bonds. I'm going to make a 
big effort to clinch a deal with him. 
and it will bring me in a lot of 

"All right, Garry," Irene said, "1 
understand. But when am I going 
to see vou again?" 

"As soon as I get back," he promised, 
"sure as rain." 

He hung up, and. going to his room, 
started to pack. That same evening 
lie was aboard the Neuchards' sumptu- 
ous pleasure-boat, and, officially in the 
interests of business, he spent two 
weeks on the fringe of the Californian 
coast, basking in the company of 
Gloria's wealthy but worthless acquain- 

Garry drank rather too much now. 
He had taken to gambling, too, this 
being one of the main pursuits of the 
smart set with which he was mixing; 
and after nightfall, when he was not 
making love to Gloria, he was usually 
at the roulette table in the yacht's 

On the last night of the cruise, when 
tho ship was anchored in the bay of 
Monterey, fifty or sixty miles to the 
south of San Francisco, Garry 
attempted t<> recover from the rather 
heavy losses he had sustained during 
the trip. 

Gloria and her friends played for 
high stakes, and, not to be outdone, 
Garry had developed a habit of plung- 
ing well beyond his means. He was 
short of ready cash, but he paid for 
chips with cheques drawn on the joint 
account of Kelly and King," and 
again and again he .wagered on the 
spin "f the little white ball in the 
roulette wheel. 

Garry was out of link, and lost 
consistently. He tried hard to appear 
at his ease as lie laid down bet after 
bet. but those who stood near him 
could not help noticing how his hand 
February 4-th, 1983. 


trembled cacn time he pushed forward 
a stack of chips. 

He risked his last few discs. Ked 
thirty-four was the number on which he 
laid them, because that was the number 
he had worn on his football sweater 
in the Pacific University team. But 
the pellet in the wheel paid out on the 
black two, and Garry groaned inwardly. 
He turned away Irom the table and 
left the saloon, walking out on to the 
deck. As he was turning in the 
direction of his cabin he saw a man and 
a girl in close embrace just a few yards 
from him, and he pulled up with a 
jerk as he recognised Gloria and one of 
the other guests. 

Garry's eyes hardened. He had been 
fool enough to believe that Gloria 
Neuchard really cared for him, and he 
had even been summing up courage 
to break off his engagement with Irene. 
He realised now that Irene was worth 
all the Neuchards in the world, and it 
was with a contemptuous expression on 
his good-looking face that he suddenly 
stepped forward and spoke to Gloria. 

"Pardon me," he interrupted curtly. 
"I hate to intrude, but I wish to be put 
ashore. I'll catch a train to town from 
Monterey — kindly have my things sent 
after me. Thank you, and — good- 
night !" 

The Down Grade. 

BACK in San Francisco, Garry 
sought out Harcourt at the 
latter's office in town. He needed 
cash badly, for. apart from outstanding 
bills and gambling debts, he wanted to 
pay back the money he had taken from 
the joint account he and Steve had 

Harcourt was sitting at his desk, 
and he glanced at Garry inquiringly 
as the youngster entered the room. 

"Oh, you're back. King," he said. 
" Well, did you push that issue over 
on Neuchard?" 

"No." Garry had to admit, "I'm 
afraid I — I didn't get the chance." 

Harcourt stared at him. "You didn't 
what?" he ejaculated. "Listen, King, 
I've given you a free hand ever since 
I engaged you. I let you go off on this 
cruise because you told me you'd be in 
Neuehard's company every day for a 
fortnight. And now you say you 
didn't get the chance to sell him those 

"That's right, Mr. Harcourt." Garry 
murmured. "I guess he wasn't in the 
mood to talk business. But listen, Mr. 
Harcourt I'd like to have a three 
thousand dollar advance on my com- 
mission, if it's possible." 

Harcourt compressed his lips 
ominously, and leaned well back in 
his chair. 

"King," he. said, during the last six 
months we've already advanced you 
nearly three thousand dollars on your 

"But I've been bringing in business, 
haven't I?" Garry argued. "Maybe 
Neuchard didn't buy. but I've sold 
stock to other people." 

"Not enough to cover expenses," 
Harcourt retorted, "and that's not how 
this firm does its business. King you've 
had a great opportunity here, but 
you've failed to take advantage of it." 

"I'll pay you back every cent I ever 
borrowed," the youngster mumbled. 

Harcourt shrugged. "I hope so." he 
replied, "but I'm prepared to write it 
off as an ill-advised speculation— which 
means. King, that your services are no 
longer required." 

Cain left the office gloomily, and he 
spent two or three miserable weeks in 
avoiding creditors. He even avoided 
Steve Colly, forbearing to answer n 
letter demanding an explanation of the 

Every Tuesduy 

empty bank account. Then the football 
season re-opened, and, on the day of 
young Bob King's first match with the 
University team, Garry turned up at 
the stadium and mingled with the thous- 
ands of other enthusiasts who were there 
to witness the game. 

As a former member of the team, 
Garry had been allotted a certain 
number of free tickets. They were not 
intended for sale, and to dispose of them 
for money was an unpardonable breach 
of college etiquette. But Garry was 
hard up and he had sunk so low that ho 
had fallen in with the proposition of a 
certain ticket-speculator known us 

Garry met Priory near the main en- 
trance, and slipped him four passes. 

"Here you are," he said in an under- 
tone. " Right on the fifty-yard line — best 
seats in the stadium. Ten dollars 

Priory took the tickets, paid him the 
ten dollars and promptly sold them to a 
man and a girl for twenty dollars each. 
In the meantime, Garry had moved 
away, and he was on the point of enter- 
ing the stadium when he collided with a 
familiar figure. 

It was the figure of Steve Kelly, and 
the other fellow looked at Garry coldly. 

"Oh, hello, Steve," Garry greeted 
him, with painful embawassment, 
"how're things ?" 

"Not bad," Steve answered in a terse 
voice. "I'm leaving for the desert on 
Monday. Managed to raise some fresh 
dough for the equipment. I had to do 
that when the manager at the bank 
sprang the news on me that the joint 
account of King and Kelly was non- 

" Steve, I want to explain about that," 
Garrv said hoarsely. 

"Yeah, what about it?" Steve re- 
joined, but, without waiting for an 
answer, he strode off scornfully. 

Garry was staring after him when 
someone touched him on the arm, and, 
turning his head quickly, he saw Irene. 
He had arranged to meet her there and 
take her into the stadium, having kept 
two of his student tickets, and they made 
their way to their seats, Betty Carstairs 
joining them a few minutes later. 

"Garry," Irene murmured, while the 
terraces were filling up around them, 
" is everything all right between you and 

"Why, yes, sure," Garry said awk- 
wardly. "He — he was telling me that 
he's going right ahead with that dry 
lake job." 

Irene laid a hand on his sleeve, and 
looked at him a little anxiously. 

"Is everything all right with you?" 
she asked. "I mean — in the bond busi- 

Garry had not told her he had lost 
favour with Harcourt, and he flushed 

"Sure," he said, "everything's 

" You know how much I want you to 
make good." she whispered. 

He nodded miserably. " And you 
know why I want to make good," he 
said. "Irene, ono day I'm " 

He was interrupted by a roar of cheer- 
ing as the teams took the field — the 
padded stalwarts of Pacific University 
appearing first, and their opponents, 
State University, trotting into view 
immediately afterwards. 

The game started, and State attacked 
light away, thrusting home an onslaught 
that drove the Pacific men back from the 
fifty-yard line. Fierce tackling on the 
part of the home team's stalwarts failed 
to relieve the pressure, and, seated at 
1 the end of a row of substitutes in front 

Every Tuesday 

of the grandstand, Chick Knipe seemed 
gloomier than ever. 

"Garry," Betty Carstairs exclaimed 
hotly, with loyal devotion to her be- 
trothed. " Bob's among the substitutes. 
Why doesn't that idiot Knipe send 
him on to the field ?" 

"Bob will get his chance before the 
games over," Garry declared. "Don't 
you worry." 

State continued to force the pace and, 
towards the end of the first quarter, one 
of their men went over the line to score, 
and, though he failed in the kick for 
goal, the board registered six points 
in favour of the visiting team. 

In the second quarter Chick Knipe 
withdrew the right half-back and dis- 
patched Bob King to fill his place, and, 
as he watched his younger brother trot 
on to the field, Garry wondered" if he 
would remember all he had tried to 
teach him. 

"Don't telegraph your passes, and, 
when you fling that ball, don't under- 
throw it whatever you do." The words 
of counsel ran through Garry's mind, 
and, though he did not know it, they 
wore running through Bob's as well. 

The game was resumed, and almost pt 
once it seemed to swing around in favour 
of Pacific. And Bob was the keynote 
of the change — Bob, a galvani-ing in- 
fluence in the home team, gaining 
ground for his side with passes that were 
beautifully accurate and headlong 
spurts that were reminiscent of Garry's 
brilliant dashes. 

It was a superb run that carried him 
over the enemy line to level nil the 
score, and he followed ' 
with a magnificent kick for goal, giving 
his side a one-point lead amid a tumult 
of applause. 

"King — King — King!" roared the 
crowd, and they shouted the name again 
and again as they followed li'.l.' play, 
nor was there any man among them 
who yelled it more joyou-ly than Garry. 

Meanwhile, the radio announcer who 
broadcasting a description of the 
matrh was waving extravagant, in his 
praise of Chick Knipe's new "find." 

"Folks, it seems like old times. 
Another -tar has just risen, named King. 
He's the brother of Garry King, and 
he's a credit to him. There he is with 
the ball again, and he's running. A 
glorious run — magnifies ating 


man after man. He's over again ! Six 
more points to Pacific I" 

The home team's supporters were 
screaming with enthusiasm, and they 
had good reason to keep up the clamour 
till the time-gun signalled the close of 
the game, and, as the crowds filed from 
the terraces, the name King was ^t ill 
on everyone's lips. 

Betty Carstairs hurried off to wait 
outside the dressing-room door for her 
betrothed, and Garry and Irene made 
their way towards the exits. Both of 
them were in high spirits, and, for the 
moment at least, Garry had forgotten 
his troubles. Then, as they were leaving 
the stadium, a man hailed him — the man 
who had bought two of Garry's student 

"Garry," he exclaimed, "Garry King. 
Say. I've been looking for you. I'm 
Freddy Wentworth — the man who took 
two of those tickets you sold to Priory 
just before the game. Listen, how 
about dealing with me direct ? Priory 
gives you ten, and I give him twenty. 
Now, w here's the sense in that? I 
could give you fifteen, and we'd both 
be better off " 

Garry was attempting fo stop him 
from speaking, but out of the corner of 
his eyo he saw that Irene had heard 
every word, and, with a look of shame 
on her pretty face, was hurrying away. 

Garry left Wentworth abruptly and 
made after her. 

"Irene," he panted, "Irene, where 
< going?" 

"Home," she answered briefly. "You 
i pretty low when you start peddling 
tg from your own university. 
Garry, I've been watching you going 
along the down grade for weeks, ami 
I know the reason. You chase easy 
money — and that's the beginning of the 
end for any man." 

"You certainly seem to have stopped 
liking me all of a sudden," Garry said, 
with an attempt at bluster. 

Iiene made a desperate little gesture. 

"It isn't a question of liking you,'' 
she told him, with a catch in her voice. 
"I love you, and I'll never get over 
you — but I'll not travel down with 

"I wouldn't want you to," Garry 
muttered hoarsely. "Just give me six 
months to get on my feet again, Irene. 
I'll make a come-back— I'll pull out of 


this mess I'm in, and if it isn't too 

late " 

"That's entirely up to yon." she 
broke in, and. turning swiftly, she dis- 
appeared in the crowd. 

The Last Rung. 

SPOILED by fame, it was not easy 
for Garry King to turn to hard 
work, and he sought to restore his 
finances by gambling with what little 
money he had left, but he only plunged 
himself deeper into the mire, and at last 
he sought out that young man of many 
interests — Willie Post. ' 

Garry's name was no longer prominent 
enough to adorn advertisements, but, as 
manager of that team of ex-collegians, 
the Californian Wildcats, Willie was 
only too eager to sign him up as a 
professional in the side. 

The pay was small, to Garry's way of 
thinking. considering his football 
prowess, but he was compelled to accept 
the proposition and go into strict train- 
ing, and it was as ho was leaving the 
Wildcats' ground one morning that he 
was accosted by two men, Blackie John- 
son and Hop Walters by name. 

They were members of a gam! 
clique with which Garry had be 
entangled, and they looked in an 

"I want a word with you. King," 
Johnson said. " You owed me two 
hundred bucks on that last poker gi 
and this cheque von passed on me was 

"I know," ( tarry stammered. " 1 
t I'll be able to raise 
money to meet the cheque when you 
handed it in at the bank, but I couldn't, 
get a cent. Listen, Johnson: I'm 
up with the Wildcats now; they don't 
pay high, but I can let you have the 
i instalments, spread over a couple 

"I need all the dough I can lav hands 
on," Johnson snarled. "I don't have 
to wait for my money, and I'm not 
coin' to. There's a law that covers 
fellers who pass off dud cheques, and 
I'm puttin' that law on you unless you 
06 have that two hundred within 
a week." 

i y spread out his hands des- 

"How can I?" he protested. "Will 
you tell mo that?" 

"Yeah," said Johnson, with a crafty 

Well, I guess we're just a happy family, huh ? " the coach growled, with withering contempt. 

February 4th, 



look, "I'll tell you how. You're 
playin' for the Wildcats in a key position 
on Saturday, ain't you? Well, supposin' 
1 was to lay a bet of two hundred 
dollars with somebody up at the club, 
and back the other team to win. And 
supposin' you were to throw the game 
and let your own side lose " 

When Garry parted with Johnson and 
Walters his face was somewhat pale and 
drawn, nor was he his usual self when 
he took the field with the Wildcats on 
the following day against another pro- 
fessional team known as the San Fran- 
cisco Bears. 

The game opened, and, his mind 
thoroughly made up to fling away every 
scoring chance. Garry somehow found 
it impossible to carry out his bargain 
with Johnson. He retained that much 
pride and honour, and it was his bril- 
liant tactics that gained ground for the 
Wildcats in the first quarter. He was 
also responsible for a magnificent pass- 
ing movement that sent one of the home 
team's pack over the line to score six 

Up in the grandstand among the 
crowd, Blackie Johnson and Hop 
Walters exchanged scowling glances. 

"Looks as if King's gone back on 
you," W 7 alters muttered. "What are 
you gonna do about it, Blackie?" 

Johnson bit his lip. In spite of his 
threat to prosecute Garry, he was in no 
position to do so, since he had good 
reasons of his own for steering clear of 
the law. But he was determined to 
strike at the youngster, nevertheless, and 
from his pocket he took out Garry's 
worthless cheque. 

He wrote a brief note across it, a 
note that incriminated Garry and made 
it clear ho had an arrangement to seli 
his tr'am's chances. 

" We've got to get King out of this 
match," Johnson explained to his crony. 
"See that the captain of the Wildcats 
gets this at half-time, Hop." 

Walters carried out his instructions to 
the letter, and, at the interval, the cap- 
tain of the home team received the 
cheque in the dressing-room, with . an 
accompanying missive explaining that it 
had been found on one of the terraces 
of the grandstand. 

Ernie Nevers, captain of the Wildcats, 
glanced at the cheque, and then walked 
across the dressing-room to where Garry 
was sitting. 

"Do you know anything about this, 
King?" In- demanded. 

Garry looked r\t the strip of paper in 
his hand and coloured furiously. He 
managed to stammer out a few words, 
and then the captain interrupted him. 

" You were going to get this back 
after the game, eh?" he ground out. 

"Listen, Ernie," Garry appealed, "I'll 
be on the level with you. I did figure 
to go out there and throw the game 

"Oh, you did, huh?" Ernie Nevers 
grunted scornfully, 

"Yes," dairy said jerkily. "I even 
fried to throw passes to I he wrong man, 
bid -well -somehow they just wenl right. 

I had to play square, Ernie; 1 just had 
to. It wasn't in me to do otherwise." 
Emic Novers gritted his teeth. 

"That may be so." he allowed, "hut 

any man who would even consider throw- 
ing a game doesn't belong in this team. 
Turn in your suit, King— y< 

Garry left the ground some time later, 
and, the picture of dejection, he walked 
into a park on the outskirts of the city, 
lb- was fairly on his beam ends now, 
and, sitting on a bench, he was gazing 

hopelessly into space when he heard Ins 
name spake and looked up to see a tail 
.February 4th, 1933. 


young man before him, a cripple lean- 
ing on a pair of sticks. 

"Garry King!" the young man ex- 
claimed. "Don't you remember me? 
I'm Ted Bowen — used to play for 

Yes. Garry remembered him. The 
footballer who had been carried from the 
field in Garry's last game for Pacific 

Ted Bowen spent an hour or go with 
him. He seemed to bear Garry no 
animosity, though it had been in an 
attempt to tackle him that he had sus- 
tained those desperate injuries. Rather. 
he seemed proud of the fact that he had 
figured in a match against the once 
redoubtable star. 

They prepared to go their separate 
ways at last. and. holding out his hand, 
Ted Bowen spoke to Garry earnestly. 
He knew from hearsay that the former 
idol of the football field "was down on 
his luck, and, he himself being of inde- 
pendent mean6, he was ready to offer 
any financial assistance. 

"Garry." lie said, "if I can ever help 
you in any way at all, you know you 
just have to ask me, don't you?" 

Garry felt a lump rising in his throat. 
He wanted mono} — easy money at that. 
But 6omehow, when it came to the 
point, he could not bring himself to 
take it from this big-hearted and 
generous youngster whom he had inno- 
cently lamed for life. 

"Ted." he told Bowen huskily. "I'm 
going to make, a confession. A few 
minutes ago I was going to 6CC if I 
could touch you for a couple of hun- 
dred dollars, but I couldn't do it. I — I 
think you're the one guy in this world 
I couldn't sponge on. You're the 
gamest, guy I ever knew. So-long, Ted." 

Bowen tried to call him back and 
press some money on him, but Garry did 
not turn, and, making his way into the 
city streets again, he walked as far as 
his old university and sought out Chick 

"Chick," he said, "I want a job as a 
coach. D'you think you could recom- 
mend me for one anywhere?" 

The trainer looked at him shrewdly. 

"You don't want to be a coach, 
Garry," he stated in dismal tones. 
"Look what it did to me." 

"It's made a good living for you," 
Garry retorted. 

Chick laughed mirthlessly. 

"I pay out. every dollar I make to 
nerve specialists," he growled, "for 
trainin' footballers is enough to send 
any man dippy. Now listen. I could 
get you a. post with Ohio Technical. 
There's a vacancy at Westport Prepara- 
tory, too — and if a coach makes good 
there, he's grabbed off by one of the big 
colleges as sure as rain Oh, there's a 
whole lot of the junior schools that 
would take you on my say-so. Only — 
I'm not recommendin' you, Garry." 

Garry was taken aback. 

" Why not ?" he muttered. 

" We don't want quitters teaching our 
kids football," Chick Knipe rejoined. 
"What's the matter with you, Garry? 
Has the game knocked the stuffin' out 
of you? Have you gone yellow?" 

"Yellow?" Garry echoed. 

"I guoss that's what you are," Chick 
said. "1 know what you've been doin', 
boy — and I've seen it happen before. 
You tried to cash in on a football repu- 
tation — runnin' after the easy money 
instead of gettin' down to rock bottom 
and goin' to work. You thought the 
world owed you a livin' because; your 
name was in the newspaper headlines, 
but you were wrong, son — and you're 
not famous any more." 

Chick spoke sorrowfully, but there 

Every Tuesday 

was no budging him from the decision 
he had made to withold any recom- 
mendation in Garry's favour, for he 
knew full well that by pushing him 
a comfortable job he would only en- 
courage those lax habits that the young- 
ster had developed. 

It was with a sense of shame as well 
as despair that Garry departed from the 
coach's room, and, outside the university 
buildings, he stood tlunking for a spell. 

He felt that he had reached the 
lowest rung of the ladder down which 
he had been slipping. Yet some spark 
of manhood told him that he was not 
yet in the gutter, and that he could still 

Chick Knipe was right, and he had 
only enlarged on what Irene had said 
that day at the stadium. He, Garry, 
had gone after the easy money till pride 
and decency had been almost completely 
submerged. If he were to make good, 
it would only be by hard work. 

Then he thought of Steve Kelly, and, 
though lie was in no position to seek 
favours from the former chum whom he 
had failed in such signal fashion, he left 
for the Mohave Desert that same night. 

A rough journey from rail-head 
brought him, on the following morning, 
to tho location where Steve was launch- 
ing out on the construction of a concrete 
bed that would turn the dry lake into a 
valuable reservoir. 

Work was in full swing when Garry 
arrived on the scene, and the whirr and 
clatter of machinery dominated the 
voices of the gang of labourers engaged 
in the toil. Then Garry saw Steve stand- 
ing in his shirtsleeves outside a crude 
shack that served as an office, and he 
walked up to him slowly. 

"Steve," he said, "what are the 
chances of gettin' a job here?" 

Steve Kelly's glance seemed to bore 
right through him. 

"I haven't got anything for you," he 
observed curtly. " There's no office 
chair for you here." 

"I've found my feet," Garry answered. 
"I can stand." 

"But I hire men to build walls, not 
to lean against 'em," Steve remarked in 
a biting tone. 

"Listen, Steve," Garry told him. "I 
discovered I had a backbone, and I was 
surprised to find that it would hold me 

U P " . 

Steve was baiting him mercilessly, and 
Garry was responding with swift repartee 
that had an element of humour in it, but 
a degree of earnestness, too. 

"H'm," Steve Kelly mused, looking 
at him closely, "I can still gee yellow in. 
your face." 

"Yes?" Garry retorted. "But when 
the grime of your job gets on it, you 
won't be able to see it." 

Steve seemed to come to a sudden 
decision, and he spoke to Garry tersely. 

"There's a wheelbarrow," he said, 
pointing, "and yau'll find plenty of sand 
over there to be Tugged to tho mixers." 

Garry picked up the wheelbarrow, and 

"Okay. Stove," ho announced; "get 
in and I'll give you a ride before I 
fill it." 

"No, thanks," Steve drawled, with a 
shake of his dark bend. "I had one 
once on an empty bank account." 

The Up Grade. 

MONTHS of hard work in the rolo 
of a labourer had put grit into 
Garry King's soul. and. watching 
him, Steve Kelly at length took him 
into the office with him, where the two 
carried on in unison as if there had 
never been any estrangement between 

Every Tuesday 

Steve was not the one to bear malice, 
auJ, having helped Garry to redeem 
himself, he wrote occasionally to Irene 
and told her of her former sweetheart's 
progress. Then one day, in the spring, 
e produced a newspaper that 'had 
arrived by the morning mail. 

"Hey, listen to this, Garry," he ex- 
claimed. "It's about that kid brother 
of yours. ' Bob King defeats Western 
University, with record score of thirty- 
live points. His last game in a magni- 
t season. Chosen for All-America 
honours.' What do you think of that?" 
ry gavo him a rueful glance. 
" Well, it's all right if success doesn't 
go to his head the same as it did to 
he declared. 
"That's impossible," Steve told him 
in a bantering tone. " Ho couldn't be 
nib as you were. But listen, here's 
ihing else. ' Big charity match 
between 1932 All- Americans and team 
of former stars yet to bo selected. 
.-■ stion put forward by William Post 
Yeah, trust him to get a bright 
For the next week or two the papers 
full of this unique proposal for a 
between the 1932 representatives 
and a side picked from men who had 
obtained the same honour during the 
three or four years preceding. The pro- 
vas hailed by all as a match that 
would be the greatest in the history of 
the American code, and the coaching of 
I the two teams was placed in the hands 
.ick Knipe and one "Pop" Warner, 
, a figure renowned in the football circles 
of the United States. 

Xcxt camo the choosing of the team 

■ of stars that was to meet the All-America 

n. and this was left to Chick Knipe, 

one of his first selections being Steve 


'.idly consented to play, and 

i the time came for him to leave for 

San Francisco, where the match was to 

eld and training was to be carried 

"I wish you were coming along, too,' 
he i aiil to Garry, as he was packing his 
I bag. "It will probably be your last 
j chain mo play football. I can't 

, understand why you don't want to play 
"Chick Knipe would never give me 
tin; chance," Garry retorted. "I guess 
he thinks I'm still the sap I turned out 
to be after I left col- 
lege. And anyway, 
I've had enough of 
football. I don't even 
wai t to r;0 i j 

.is interrupted at 
that moment by a boy 
i with a telegram. The 
missive ,\an addressed 
in Steve, and, after he 
had scanned it, he 
handed it smilingly to 

"Your ' 
made me hap] I ■ 

Garry I'm terribly 
anxious to see him. 
Bring him homo by 

I Garry rose from the 
chair he had been occu- 
"You win," he said 
' Let's go, 
ve. "" 
"We'-. •• got eleven 
■ninutes to catch the 
train," S t e v e an- 

" Well, how ma' 


clean shirts have you got in that bag?" 
Garry demanded. 

"Just two," was the answer. 

"That's enough," Garry jerked. 
"Come on . . ." 

They were in San Francisco the same 
evening, and Steve went straight to the 
training quarters of the side for which 
he had been picked, a side now described 
as the All-Star team. Ernie Nevers and 
Lug Whittlebottom were among them, 
and, in company with these and the 
other sterling footballers who had been 
selected, Steve left for a reception that 
had been arranged at one of the big 

Here, under the wing of Chick Knipe, 
the All-Star outfit sat at one table, while 
the 1932 All-Americans took their places 
at another, with Pop Warner as their 
coach. The rest of the tables were occu- 
pied by well-known officials of the foot- 
ball world, and, after the rival teams 
had been introduced numerous speeches 
were made. 

In the meantime Garry had taken ;. 
cab to Irene's home, but when he arrived 
there he was greeted by the sound of 
heart-rending sobs. It was not Irene 
who was responsible for them, but little 
Betty Carstairs, who had dropped in to 
pour out a tale of woo to the other 

"Say, this is a fine welcome for a 
fellow to have," Garry declared, 
"What's the trouble, Betty?" 

" That brother of yours is the trouble," 
Betty wailed plaintively. 

"Bob?" Garry exclaimed. "Why, 
I'll wring the kid's neck if he " 

" Xo you won't," Betty cried in a 
conflicting tone. "You won't dare to 
lay a hand on my husband!" 

Garry gave a violent start. "Your 
what?" he blurted. "Say, this is the 
first I'vo heard of it." 

"We wore married last May," Betty 
wept, "but we had to keep it a si. 


If we hadn't, Bob wouldn't have been 
allowed to play football, and he wanted 
Ail-American honours — said it would help 
him in business." 

Garry's eyes hardened. It sounded 
as if Bob were trying to "cash in on a 
name," in the same way as he had tried 
to do. 

"But that's not why you're making 
this fuss," he told Betty." "What's Bob 
been doing to you ?" 

"He — he's always being invited out," 
the girl answered tearfully, "and I'm 
always being left alone. And there's 
someone else — she's taking him away 
from me — that Xeuchard girl " 

"Xeuchard!" Garry broke in fiercely. 
Gloria Xeuchard?" 

"You — you know her?" Betty fal 

"I'll say I do," Garry rejoined grimly, 
with a swift glance at Irene, and then, 
cramming on his hat, he left the house. 

Garry made his way straight to the 
hotel where the reception to the teams 
was taking place. He was determined 
io have a word or two with Bob, and it 
was as he reached the grounds of the 
hotol that he saw the two groups of 
footballers emerging. Then he caught 
sight of his young brother, and watched 
him detach himself from the rest of 
the All-America eleven and hurry along 
the drive so where a smart sports car 
was standing. 

Garry recognised the automobile, and 
the sophisticated girl who sat behind the 
wheel. Ho hurried forward, and ac- 
costed Bob as the latter was about to 
enter the car. 

"Garry!" Bob ejaculated. "Why. 
it's great to see vou ! Oh, do you know 
■ uchard ?" 

Garry glanced at the society girl, and 
saw that she was eyeing him mockingly. 

"Sure, I know Miss Ncuchard," ho 
said contemptuously. "I've been around, 


What's the matter, Kid? " Garry inquired 

You getting weak, or something ? " 

February 4th, 1933. 


and that's why I'm hero to take you 

'"What are you driving at?" Bob 
demanded, with heightening colour. 
'•What's the idea?" 

" Listen, I know all about you and 
Betty," Garry told him. "Now will 
you come?" 

Bob seemed no longer glad to see 
Garry. Carried away by Gloria Neu- 
chard and her fashionable friends just as 
his older brother had been, he resented 
the attempt to interfere. 

Garry pulled him a little way along 
the drive, and then spoke to him appeal- 
ingly. If he were too infatuated to 
think of Betty at the moment, he might 
at least consider the big game in which 
he was to figure. 

"Kid, you're an Ail-American now," 
Garry reminded him, "and when you 
play in that charity match you'll be up 
against a tough outfit in the All-Star 
team. Late hours with Gloria 
Neuchard's crowd won't do you any 
good, and you'll have to be fighting fit 
in the game with those old timers." 

"I'll run those old timers dizzy," 
Bob scoffed boastfully. "Not one of 
that All-Star outfit can hold a candle 
to me." 

"Well, come along with me," Garry 
urged. "Betty's waiting for you." 

Bob fairly glared at him. "Didn't 
I tell you to keep out of my business?" 
he ground out. 

Garry took him by the arm again with 
the object of dragging him off by main 
force, and with that Bob lost his 
temper. Up came his fist, and next 
second he had struck his brother in the 
mouth with a force that staggered him. 

Garry reeled back, and then, with 
more sorrow than anger, he watched 
Bob return to Gloria Neuchard's car. 

"I was beginning to think our little 
party was all off," Garry heard the 
girl say, in honeyed tones. 

"Listen," Bob retorted, "nobody's 
going to tell me what to do I" 

Garry moved away slowly, and began 
to wend his way homeward in a thought- 
ful mood. 

The Big Game. 

Till', next clay Garry took a trip 
across to the training quarters 
of the All-Star team, and, locating 
Chick Knipe in the dressing-room, he 
accosted him. 

'"Hallo, Chick," he said, wondering 
what kind of a welcome he would 

The coach came as near to smiling 
at it was possible for him to do. 

"How are you, Garry?" he rejoined. 
"Pretty fit, huh? Steve's just been 
telling us all about the come-back you've 
made. I'm sure glad to hear it, son, 
for you certainly made a mug of your- 
self for a while." 

Garry nodded seriously. "Sure, 1 
made my come-back," he murmured, 
"and I'd like to make another one — if 
you know what I mean, Chick." 

"Football?" the coach asked, eyeing 
him keenly. 

" [Thuh," Garry said. "How arc the 
chances of getting in on a game?" 

"Not a Chinaman's chance," Chick 
replied. "I didn't know there were 
so many stars in the world until I 
started to pick 'em for this team of 
mine. Sorry, Garry." 

He walked away, and Steve Kelly 
approached Garry. He had heard all 
that had passed, and he looked at his 
friend curiously. 

"I guess Chick still has his doubts 
about me," Garry said, with a wry 
smile. "I didn't think he'd give me 
a place." 

"But why the change of heart?" 
Stove asked. "I thought you had 

February 4th, 1933. 


had all the football glory you wanted." 

Garry laughed shortly. "It isn't the 
glory i'm looking for," he answered. 
"But if somebody doesn't take some 
of the conceit out of that kid brother 
of mine, he's gonna make a bigger 
fool of himself than I did. I'd like 
to get in this game and knock him off 
his perch." 

"You won't have to worry," drawled 
Steve, looking around at the other 
players in the room. " Your brother 
won't get very far with this gang." 

"Maybe not," Garry agreed. "Well, 
I'll see you at the match — if not before." 

The game had been scheduled for 
the second Saturday following the hotel 
reception to the teams, and it was to be 
held at the stadium where Garry had 
played so often for Pacific University. 
On the great day, that coliseum of 
sport was thronged with a record 
crowd, and, while the terraces were 
rapidly filling, the rival players changed 
into football rig down in their respective 

Chick Knipe looked as worried and 
harassed as ever when he gave his 
final words of counsel to the All-Star 
plavers ere they left to take the field. 

"Boys," he "stated, "this 1932 All- 
America side is going to be hard to 
beat. They're a lot of youngsters — all 
individual stars, and lull of fight. 
They're good — but so are you. You've 
got more knowledge than they have— 
you've had more experience — and you 
understand the value of team work. 
Team work's gonna win this game." 

The All-Star men nodded. They knew 
full well the amount of wisdom which 
was behind that statement. 

"Remember that concentrated effort 
will beat any star that ever lived," 
Chick went on, "and forget about the 
publicity angle of this game. Don't 
worry about getting your pictures in 
the papers — but all go on out there and 
pull together. I'll be watchin' you." 

A boy opened the door and called 
"game time I" The men of the All-Star 
team trotted from the dressing-room, 
and ran on to the field amid a thunder 
of applause, and within a few seconds 
the All-America eleven-were coming out 
to be greeted by a similar welcome. 

Garry was sitting opposite the fifty- 
yard line with Irene and Betty, and, 
with a hundred and fifty thousand 
other fans, they watched Ernie Nevers 
kick-off for the All-Star outfit. It was 
a punt that carried the ball to the All- 
Americans' twenty-yard line, where 
Bob King caught it in his deft hands 
and recovered every inch of ground in 
a bold dash for mid-field. 

He was tackled there, and brought 
down, and the teams went into position 
after the usual huddle, during which 
the captain of each side rapped out 
tactical instructions in hurried tones. 
With play in progress again, there was 
a fierce scrimmage, and then, following 
a brilliant passing movement, the ball 
came back to Bob King. 

Hugging it, he circled a mass of 
players and raced for the All-Star goal- 
line. Steve Kelly tried to stop him, but 
Bob eluded him with a glorious swerve, 
then pushed Lug Whittlebottom's face 
aside a's the latter attempted to tackle. 

The crowd rose as one, shrieking 
encouragement as Bob beat man after 
man, voicing their admiration of the 
youngster's superb run. Playing at 
full-back for the All-Stars, Nevers 
brought him to the ground on a level 
with the goal-posts, but Bob had bucked 
the line and had planted tho ball 
beyond it for a six-point score. 

Watching from the bench where tho 
All-Star array of substitutes sat. Chick 
Knipe chewed his nails i in agitation. 
At the end of the first quarter, he sent 

Every Tuesday 

out a fresh man to take the place of 
the left half-back considering that the 
latter seemed off-form. But it was of no 
avail, and, though the All-Stars battled 
desperately in the scrimmages, they 
could make no headway. 

Bob King's touch-down had been con- 
verted for the extra point, and the score 
stood at seven-nil till midway through 
the second quarter, when Garry's 
younger brother again carried the ball 
across the All-Star line for a try that 
was unconverted. 

" Thirteen points for the All-America 
side," the announcer was broadcasting 
up in tho radio cabin. 'It's a great 
match, folk6, but so far it's a one-man 
game, for among all this talent the boy 
from Pacific University stands out like a 
lighthouse — Bob King. Now here'6 the 
teams lining up again." 

In a determined rally tho All-Stars 
gained ground, and an Army player, 
Baker by name, made a bid to score. 
It was Bob King who brought him 
down on the five-yard line, and, with 
the pressure relieved, the All-America 
team forced the play back into the 
centre of the field. 

" Bob King is still the wonder-boy of 
this game," came the voice of the radio 
announcer. " He's running the old- 
timers of the All-Star eleven off their 
feet. His tackling is magnificent, and 
his runs equal to his brother Garry's 

The game swung back and forward, 
but with the advantage always in favour 
of the All-America eleven, for, even 
when the old-timers attacked, Bob and 
his team-mates seemed to have plenty 
in hand to baffle their efforts. It was 
as if they were beginning to impress 
upon the All-Stars a feeling of in- 
feriority, too, and, badly rattled, Ernie 
Nevers and his men made mistakes in- 
excusable in so talented a 6ide. 

In a sally that showed every prospect 
of resulting in a score, Nevers himself 
fumbled a pass on the All-America four- 
yard line, close to the goal; and, with 
play in mid-field once more, Bob made 
an opening and galloped through All- 
Star territory in flying style, holding the 
ball close to his body. 

Nevers partially redeemed himself for 
his former blunder by throwing Bob 
down ere he could tack on another six 
points to the All-America lead, but it 
was a close call, for, as the younger man 
fell with arms thrust forward, the 
leather oval was only a matter of inches 
from the scoring line. 

"Well, King." Nevers panted, "it 
looks like you didn't stretch far enough 
that time." 

Bob looked at him mockingly. His 
manner fairly radiated conceit. 

"Why, Mr. Nevers," he drawled, "I 
wasn't even trying." 

The pistol banged for half-time, and 
the teams left the field for an interval 
in the dressing-rooms, the All-Star 
eleven woll-pla^teied with mud. Mean- 
while, up in the grandstand, Garry 
asked Irene and Betty to excuse him, 
and went down to .the quarters of Chick 
Knipe'6 team. 

Chick was in the dressing-room with 
them, and was watching them sourly as 
they sucked lemon and rubbed liniment 
on various hurts that they had sustained. 
As Garry entered, the coach began to 
voice scornful comments, while the foot- 
ballers eyed him somewhat sheepishly. 

" Well. I guess we're just one happy 
family, huh?" he growled, with wither- 
ing contempt. " One old man coaching 
a Tot of other old men. Those kids out 
there were too spry for you — that's tho 
truth of it. Why, I could almost hear 
your bones cracking." 

Every Tuesday 

He began to single them out indi- 
vidually, and fire scurrilous criticisms at 

'Ncvers, I've seen you play a lot of 
football," he snapped, "but I never saw 
you drop one on the four-yard line 
before. Carrideo, what do you think 
you were doing when you let young 
King- get by you and score that first 
touch-down ':'' 

" I didn't think he was that fast," 
Carrideo muttered. 

Chick grunted, and then turned on big 

" Whittlebotiom, you're the greatest 
footballer I ever 'aw in my life," he said 
savagely. " There's only two things 
wrong with you — your feet!" 

e Kelly glanced across the room 
at Garry, and then spoke to the coach. 

"Aw, Chick," he appealed, "why 
don't you put in the one man who can 
stop Bob King? He's right here, you 

The left half-back of the team stood 
up and walked over to where Garry was 

"You can take my place in the next 
half if you want to, King," he volun- 

" I'd like to, buddy," Garry rejoined, 
" but I wouldn't want to go in unless 
i a«-ked me. Thanks ju<-r the 
same, Booth." 

He heard a footfall close beside him, 
and felt a tap on his shoulder. Chick 
Ksipe had advanced, and now he looked 
him straight in the I 

"Number thirty-four used to be a 
(rood number," hi apd 

ill in your old lock' r. Suppoain' 
'•ar it." 
"Will I?" Garry shouted j< 
II , off with your rig, Booth. I'm 
ling into it '.'' 

King Versus King 

.,1 over, ihe riv.i! 

took tie; y had 

Tilly lined up before ■•", began 
.•.n on the mat ■■- oi ipei 

111': idol '^:e in t 

" Look ' I 

wearing his old nun 

" ( ;.ui \ |" 1 d was yelling. 

"Garry King '." 

" Folks," said the radio announcer to 

the millions of listeners-in who were fol- 

g;-.iue in their home-, "here 

;s a 'hrill ! A '■> ■• - old 

imber's come 0:1 tin; pitch. 

\ imbcr '4 — and it's worn by Garry 

for the '. 

( larrideo 
kieking off for tie- old timers, and the 
<.i'i' nt the ball well into 

1 territory, but. speeding 
it, Bob King caught it ezpi 
towards mid field with it. 
Ho did tot make the fifty-yard line 
ime. A stalwart in the grey rig 
■ All Stars - iddenly pounced on him 
brought him down with a shock 
bumped the breath out of Bob's 
• as well. 
Up in the radio cabin, the wil 

.tie, r spoke excitedly into the 

\\ 1 1 a beautiful ta«kh- Garry King 
brother for a five-yard loss. 
:i-t, King — folk-, 1 ins is going 
•I meantime, down on the field of 
1 ;.in f l ,.i . iff Bob -, prone 
. and was helping t > cr to 

. 1 
I, kid, ' ' • I in a 

>.;ih intentionally patronising. 
t, in sooi oiigh. 



Bob's eyes flashed fire at these words 
of counsel, and he waxed the more 
wrathful because he knew the advice 
was shrewd. Who did Garry think he 
was, anyway, playing coach to a fellow 
with All- America honours ? He'd show 
him who was master, even if his tactics 
had been wrong on this occasion. 

While the players lined up where the 
tackle had been made, Bob glared across 
at Garry. Then the game was in full 
swing again, and from a furious scrim- 
mage the ball came out to the young 
All-Americj. half-back. 

Bob snapped up the pass, circled a* 
pile of sprawled bodies, and dashed for 
the All-Star line. But he had travelled 
only three strides when Garry collared 
him and hurled him to the ground. 

Under this second rude check, Bob 
scrambled to his feet, and there was a 
glitter of rage in his eyes as he looked 
at Garry. Nor did the crowd's uproarious 
cheers for his older brother help to 
appease his ire. 

"Fella," drawled Garry, "you're muff- 
ing a chance to get your name in the 

Bob gritted his teeth, and Garry 
trotted into position as the teams lined 
up once more. The game reopened, and. 
obtaining the ball in the back-field, Bob 
flung a pa--, that was intended for one 
of his own men. But Garry intercepted 
it, and in a dazzling run he gained 
thirty yards of ground before he was 
hauled down by sheer weight of 
n m hers. 

The rival players clambered off him, 





_ _ 



Starring Warner Baxter and Miriam 


The opening chapters of a grand new 

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Why not buy a copy of our companion 
paper and enjoy the many fine stories yo u 
will find in it. Ask your newsagent for a 
copy of — 


On Sale Every Wednesday. Price 2d. 


and, rising, Garry saw Bob hovering 
near. He hated to keep baiting him, 
but it seemed the only way to bring tho 
youngster to his senses. 

"What's the matter, kid?" he in- 
quired. "You getting weak, or some- 
thing ? I've told you a million times 
not to under-throw your passes. See 
what happened to that one?" v 

Bob swallowed hard. He was rapidly 
becoming demoralised, and, with their 
key-man losing grip of the game, tho 
rest of the All- America eleven had had 
their confidence shaken. 

Five minutes later Carrideo took the 
ball from a scrimmage and swung it 
across to Garry, who went straight for 
the All-America line, beating man after 
man in a style that sent the crowds of 
spectators wild with delight. He scored 
close to the rival goal-posts, and the six 
points were converted into seven by the 
free-kick that followed. 

Early in the last quarter Garry went 
over again, and once more tho extra 
point was secured. The score was now 
fourteen to thirteen in favour of the 
All-Stars, and young Bob had faded 
completely out of the limelight, his older 
brother utterly eclipsing him. 

Seven minutes from the end of the 
game, Bob took a pass from the All- 
America quarter-back, but ho fumble, i 
it 'badly, and, before he could recover, 
both Garry and .Steve Kelly had flung 
him down. All threo rose to their 
a moment later, and Garry was smiling 
scornfully when he faced Bob. 

" You lame brain," he said, "you 
can't even hang on to the ball'." 

" You keep away from me !" Bob 
blurt "d sa\ ( 

"What do you expect me to do?"' 
Garry retorted. "Hun into your arms 
and kiss you? Huh, and they told me 
you could [play football!" 

Bob's temper broke the bounds of sol f- 
oontrol, and with an insensate cry he 
rushed at Garry and struck him. Next 
instant tho referee was between the 

s ami ordering tho younger 
brother off tho field. 

lioh went wh^te. 

"I'm sorry," ho panted. " I— I didn't 
moan it. I — I lost my head, I guess." 

"I'm -orry, too," the referee said 
'., "but" this is a football gm, 
not a fight. You're out." 

It was amid a profound hush that Bob 
King started towards the gangway lead- 
ing to the playere' quarters, but tho 
e gave place to a storm of booing 
before he left the pitch, and, his head 
bowed with shame, tho youngster 
lurried from view. 

Tho gain,- finished after a further 
score by Steve Kelly for the All-Stars, 
and 6ccnes of tho wildest enthusiasm 
were displayed by the crowd as Garry 
d from the field. He was the first 
up tho gangway, but did not make for 
his own side's dressing room, swerving 
to the All-America quarters instead. 

Ho found Bob there, mad with out- 
raged pride, and tho youngster's eyes 
blazed as Garry appeared before him. 

"Listen," ho snarled. "You keep 
away from me I" 

"Steady, kid " Garry began, but 

Bob out in on him. 

"You made a fool of me out there!" 
ho shouted. "I could kill you for it!" 

He lashed on- with his fist as he spoke 
the word-, but. Garry warded off tie- 
blow rind then sent his bunched knuckles 
Crashing into his brother's jaw, the 
younger man tumbling to the floor in a 

"I'm sorry, kid," Garry said, looking 
down at him, "but you had that com- 
ing to you Don't you see what I'm 

(Continued on page 28.) 

February 4th, 1933. 



(Continued from page 16.) 1 

jt » ♦ * ♦ » ■»-■♦--♦--♦-♦ ♦ »»»♦♦ ♦ 3fC 

Curiously enough, it was Janet who 
raised objections. 

"Leaving to-morrow? Where are we 

going?" . 

" We re going with Gregory, en- 
thused Dave. "He's offered me a fine 
post in Washington." 

"I'm not sure that I trust that man.'' 
Janet frowned. "I want to leave here 
— but I wonder about that man." 

"What nonsense, dear!" scoffed the 
brother. "He's in Government employ, 
and this is a great chance for me. He's 
a fine fellow. Besides, I want to^get 
you away from this terrible warfare." 

"It will not last much longer." 
Janet's eyes were bright. "White 
Eagle and Captain Barton will smoke 
the pipe of peace." 

Qrey Wolf Speaks. 

IT was a picturesque scene. The wig- 
wams and tents of the Indians, the 
great, towering, barren cliffs 
behind, the bright feathers, the buck- 
skin clothing in which gay patterns had 
heeu woven, the squaws and warriors 
that watched the council with graven, 
expressionless faces. Near some horses 
a soldier stood on guard. Captain 
Barton and his adjutant were squatted 
in the council circle, in the centre of 
which stood White Eagle. 

"The Taleface Chief of the Long 
Knives is our friend. His words are 
true." The strong hands went out in a 
gesture almost of command. "He 
grows stronger on the warpath; we 
grow weaker. We kill one white man; 
ten take his place. They kill one 
Indian — and we have no warrior to take 
his place. Big Paleface Chief has 
offered us justice. That there shall be 
a fair trial. I ask all chiefs to smoke 
the pipe of peace." 

These dour old warriors knew that the 
young chief spoke wisdom. The white 
men were like plants; cut one down 
and two grow up instantly in its place. 
Then this white captain offered justice. 
Up till now he had been trusted — so 
would they trust him again? But if he 
failed them — then would the Indians die 
fighting to the last man. 

Thus was the pipe of peace smoked. 

"White Eagle, there is no war 
between us now." 

Captain Barton held out his hand. 

"1 am glad," the maker of peace 
answered. "My people need friends 
like you." 

"I hope to see you before long in 
Virgina City." 

"Among (he white men I am 
nothing." White Eagle folded his arms 
across bis chest. "I have only found 
unhappiness. They call me ' Brother,' 
but they do not think so in their hearts." 

"I think I understand," Captain 
Barton gripped the chief's hand. 
"You'll forget her in time." 

There was none so clover as Grey 
Wolf even though many winters rested 
upon his shoulders. Standing some way 
from his son and the captain, he had 
b|- read all that had been said. The 
lined face softened for a moment, and 
noiselessly he stepped between the two 

"Come with me," ho ordered. "I 
have something to show you." 

White Eaglo and Captain Barton 
were surprised, but. they followed the 
old chief, who disappeared into a tent 
February 41 h, 1933. 


to reappear with something in his 

With head upraised and eyes turned 
towards the sun, Grey Wolf spoke ; 
" I tried to change the work of the 
Great Spirit. That is not good. Long 
ago a great chief of the Long Knives 
rode against the Bannock. Many war- 
riors died. One of them my son. When 
wo burned their fort wo found a white 
papoose alive. I took him with me 
and called him my son." He held 
out a copper medallion. "The papoose 
was lying close locked in the arms 
of a big White Chief. This medicine 
was his." 

Captain Barton turned over the 
medallion and gave a gasp of surprise. 
"This belonged to Major Harvey I 1 
remember when his command was wiped 
out. White Eagle, you are his son !" 

"That was your father's medicine," 
Grey Wolf spoke slowly and sorrowfully. 
"He was a brave man, your father — as 
brave as his son. I make peace with 

"The words of Grey Wolf have 
changed the whole world for you." 
Captain Barton shook White Eagle's 
hand. "I never did think you were 
an Indian." 

"When Grey Wolf spoke those words 
he robbed himself of a son," White 
Eagle turned and made a sign to the 
old man. "I am not your blood son — 
yet always will you be to me as a 

The Truth at Last. 

WHITE EAGLE had several affairs 
to settle, smoke signals to send 
out, and peace talks to make to 
the younger braves, before he could 
ride after the soldiers to Virginia 

Many times he thought of Janet, and 
wondered what her answer would be, 
now that he had a name. In spite of 
his thoughts his mind was alert for 
any danger. By the side of a small pool 
was a saddled horse and from the saddle 
protruded an arrow. 

Silver swept down on the Pony 
Express horse before there was a chance 
of flight. The mails were intact. The 
horse was left at the pool whilst Silver 
rushed the mail bag off to Virginia City. 

Captain Barton was greeted with 
cheers at Virginia City. What the 
Captain and White Eaglo had done 
was wonderful news. Now their 
wild spirits had abated, they realised 
bitterly what war was like. Many said 
that there was truth in Whito Eagle's 
tale of renegades disguised as Indians. 

" Suppose it's no use asking about 
him?" said the officer after shaking 
hands with the new Superintendent. 

"Nothing come through yet," The 
new Superintendent was eager to suc- 
ceed. "But now you've stopped the 
war, we'll soon have the Express 

"I'm glad, because I'm getting 
anxious about orders. Then there is the 
pay for " 

A shout interrupted him: "Hero 
comes a rider." 

Then they saw the silver stallion and 
heard a shout of: "White Eaglo!" 

Moro cheering when they found he 
carried mail. "Found a horse near 
I -one Pine." He nodded to the captain. 
"Where's Dave Rand?" 

"I've taken over Dave's place," 
answered the new official. "He and his 
sister pulled out of here this morning 
with Gregory." 

Young Zack had his word to say. 
"I don t like it, White Eagle. They 
took tho southern trail after leavin' 
the city, and, if they were bound for 

Every Tuesday 

St. Joe, they weren't on the right 

The captain in great excitement, 
rushed up to them. 

"A letter has come through from 
Washington," he cried. "This man 
Gregory is tho leader of an organised 
band of horse thieves ! His credentials 
were forged." 

"So Gregory and his men did those 
killings and now Janet is in his 
power!" White Eagle's eyes blazed. 
"Captain you promised the Indians 

"I did!" 

"It would be justice if you let them 
capture these skunks and bring them 

The captain was quick to decide. "It 
is well spoken. But remember this : 
the Government wants prisoners and not 
dead men." 

"Death would be too sweet an end 
for Gregory." Never had any of them 
seen White Eagle so enraged. 

Before getting to horse, Zack wa3 
given orders; " You can serve me well, 
son. You must not fail me. Ride to 
the camp of Grey Wolf and give him 
this message. He's to pick up my trail 
at Turtle Rock. Now hurry." A stern 
laugh: "Tell him that justice for our 
people is nigh!" 

"I will not fail, White Eagle." Tho 
boy turned and ran to find a pony, 
whilst his hero rode hard on the trail 
of Gregory and his horse thieves. 


GREGORY was a cunning scoundrel 
and he explained the change of 
direction to Dave by stating that 
he had corralled some horses in a valley. 
After losing the others, he had thought 
it best to keep all horses bought away 
from the city. David thought the 
explanation queer, but never doubted 
Gregory's honesty until camp was 
pitched in this valley near a stream. 
Then Rand saw the horses. 

"I know those horses!" he cried. 
"Some of them belonged to the Pony 
Express Company. How did you get 
them. Gregory?" 

"Bought them in the usual way." 
The crook held open the flap of a tent. 
"I've made everything as comfortable 
as possible for you, Miss Janet." 

David followed his sister and Gregory 
into tho tent. 

"Gregory, I want some explanation. 
All those horses were branded. You 
must have known they belonged to the 
Pony Express." David's eyes had 
narrowed with suspicions. "You've 
got more than sixty horses in this 

"Well, I didn't expect a showdown 
quite so soon," Gregory smiled blandly. 
"But I don't see why you shouldn't 
know. I'm making south and tho 
border; these horses go with me and — 
so docs your sister." 

"So you're a horse thief." "gasped 
Rand. "You were behind those hold- 
ups, the scalpings, the " 

A gun appeared in Gregory's hand. 
"You will be wise to control \our 
tongue," he warned Dave. "I don't 
care whether you stick with this outfit 
or not. And if you expect to remain 
alive, just tell your sister to be nice to 

"You blackguard!" shouted Dave. 

"Be careful what you say, Dave," 
begged the girl. 

"The little lady sees wisdom," 
mocked Gregory. "She will make me 
a fine wife." 

"What a fool I've been," groaned 
David when brother and sister wero 

Every Tuesday 

alone. " In blind folly I walked into 
this trap. Only you could see that this 
man was not to be trusted. We must 

e from here somehow." 

gory made his plans with Bart 

then returned to the tent. Little 
did he know that a figure was working 
its way from tree to tree, drawing 

nearer the tent. 
"Tell Bart to send over some dinner 
for your sister and me," ordered 
Gregory to Dave. "You can eat with 
the boys. I have a few things I want 
to talk over with Janet alone. Get 
out !" 

"Don't leave me, Dave." 
''Don't worry, I won't I" 
The crook's face set in an evil 
expression and he slipped out his gun. 
"Either you do as I say, or I'll fill 
you with lead ! I've warned you already 
about making a. nuisance of yourself. 
Tins is your last chance." 
A strange, but faint, noise made Janet 
and then she nearly ruined every- 
thing by screaming. A knife was cut- 
ting the canvas. The face of White 
Eagle appeared. 

"All right, I'll go," said David. 
" But if you dare to ill-treat my sister, 

No need to say any more, because a 
y arm was round Gregory's throat 
throttling grip, and a hand grasped 
his gun arm in a grip of steel. 

"White Eagle!" Janet cried with 

"Get something to tie him up with, 
quick," whispered their rescuer. "We 
must get away from here." 

They tore up the sheets and blankets 

ad bound the squirming rascal's hands 

eet. They did not handle the crook 

ently. A gag was thrust into his 

i. To the surprise of the brother 

and sister White Eagle then freed 

Gregory's hands. 

"I want his coat and waistcoat," was 
the explanation. 

After removing the clothes the hands 


were bound again and the rascal 
dumped ou to a bed. White Eagle took 
Gregory's hat, and put on the coat and 

"Come here." They peered through 
the tent flap and saw the horses hitched 
under the trees. White Eagle took their 
arms. "I am going to walk out of here 
like this. They will think i: is Gregory. 
You two can be arguing with me. You, 
Dave, better have tiie gun ready in 
case we are detected Directly you are 
mounted ride up the valley. I'll keep 
thern at bay." 

"But you'll be in danger!" cried 

"I do not think so." lie smiled at 
her. "Come, we must not delay." 

Bart, who was seated with half a 
dozen men round a fire, called out : 
"Hey. boss, where you goin' ?" But 
as there came no answer he went back 
to the basting of some wild fowl. 

When the three got to horse and rode 
up the valley. Bait scratched his thick 
thatch of hair. Mighty strange thing 
tor his boss to do. Something attrai - 
him to the tent and a strange noise made 
him rush inside. Gregory was twisting 
and turning ou the bed. Swiftly Bait 
cut hi.? leader free. 

"Where are they?" Gregory was like 
a fiend. 

"So that wasn't you?" Bart was 
amazed. " Who was it ? I saw " 

"That white Indian took my clothes!" 
Gregory cursed. "Which way did they 

"Back to the city." 

"Give me your gun." Gregory 
out. "Tell every man to get to horse. 
We got to stop them." 

At last Gregory came in sight of the 
three riders, and he gave an exultant 
cry, but a shout from one of his men 
made him turn. The horizon seemed 
thick with Redskins. 

They tried to ride for safety, but it 
was too late. Whichever way they 
turned they found Indians. They fired 


their guns and did little harm. Then 
the Redskins, shrieking and howling like 
demons, swept clown on them from all 

The Redskins dragged them from their 
horses and made them prisoners. White 
Eagle rode back. 

"Take your prisoners and all those 
stolen horses to Captain Barton," were 
his orders "And prove to all men that 
our word was spoken with a Straight 
tongue and that our hearts are good." 

From a Email pony slithered the ex- 
cited Zack. 

"We get 'em, White Eagle, Dog- 
gone it, didn't we?" 

White Eagle raised his hands in greet- 
ing as Grey Wolf rode up to them. The 
old man spoke softly in the Indian 
tongue, and from his plume extracted a 
gaudy feather. 

"Grey Wolf says that this day you 
have earned your feather," White Eagle 
patted the boy's shoulder. "You are 
now a v. ,111 ior !" 

Once again the lake. Janet is wear- 
ing ,i pr< tfv riding habit, whilst the. 
man by her side i; clothed in buckskins 
and the sombrero with one bright plume. 

"White Eagle, you never finished that 
tale of \ and (he Sun 

Maiden.'' murmured a demure Janet. 

"I'm afraid that only White Eagle 
could tell you the resl of that story," 
was the reply. "It wouldn't be the same 
—coming from John Harvey." 

"To n>c you'll always be White 
Eagle." Janet held her hands out to 
her hero. 

lie took them. 

"And to mc you'll always be the Sun 

(By permission of United Artists Cor- 
poration. Lid., and Columbia Pictures, 
starring Buck Jones as White Eagle 
and Barbara Weeks as Janet.) 

Can You Give a Name to Tljis Horse? 

TOM KEENE, the Radio Pictures 
cowboy star, asks you to give a 
name to his new horse which he 
:or the first time in a new pi 
I "Land of the Six Shooter." 
A you have to do is to • 

to Tom Keene, care of the 
' idios, 780, i ■ 
d, < California. 
Ttj the sender of the namo which lie 
:able present, to be decided 

■ photograph of himself on the 
I autographed personally. 

i help in finding a suitable n 
Acre is a ' <n of the horse. The 

animal is a mixture of inn 
Kentucky thoroughbred. Many ; 
Keenii explains, when We 

* lered into the hills 

kid joined the wild herdi 

I in the 
••pai I "paint " 

Signifies large i-pot.s of colour I , 

February uii, 1M3. 



(Continued from page 8.) 

Magna and bis braves were in full 
cry, and, as tbey saw Hawk-eye and 
bis two friends on tbc rim of the bluff, 
they levelled arrows and muskets. 

Shots whined about the scout and his 
companions, and feathered shafts grazed 
their bodies. Suddenly Hawk-eye 
seemed to stagger, and then he fell 
headlong over the cliff. As if in a blind 
effort to save himself, he clutched at 
Uncas and the Sagamore, and he carried 
the former with him in his plunge to 
the river a hundred feet below. But he 
lost his grip on the father, and the 
elderly chief was left alone on the bluff. 

Magna was twenty or thirty paces 
ahead of his warriors, and, exulting 
over the apparent deaths of Hawk-eye 
and Uncas, he dashed on to put an end 
to the Sagamore. He closed with the 
thief of the Mohicans, and the two men 
grappled fiercely, but though the Saga- 
more was past his prime, he defended 
himself valiantly until he missed his 
footing on the very brink of the cliff. 

He dropped from sight, and, with a 
villainous leer on his face, Magna leaned 
forward and watched his body hurtling 
through space, watched it strike the 
surface of the river with a -splash, 
when it disappeared amid a welter of 
foam and a swirl of waters. 

The rest of Magua's party came up 
and peered over the edge of the bluff. 
There was no sign of Uncas, Hawk-eye 
or the Sagamore, and the Huron chief 
uttered, a grunt of satisfaction. 

"The current has carried their bodies 
onward," he said, "onward to the falls, 
liui what of Munro's daughters?" 

"Look!" one of his warriors ex- 
claimed, pointing out into midstream. 
" V'ouder they are!" 

He was right. Hey ward, Gamut and 
tin- Munro girls had secured a canoe, 
and, having abandoned their horses, were 
I now riding the river, the two men each 
wielding a paddle. But they had been 
seen by those braves whom Magna had 
dispatched in an attempt to surround 
Hawk-eye and his friends, and these 
had speedily taken to the light boats 
moored at the water's edge. 

Heyward and Gamut paddled des- 
perately, and for a distance of a mile 
they were able to keep ahead. But one 
group of Indians were overtaking them 
[opt by foot, and at last the enemy craft 
came abreast. 


A stalwart brave seized Gamut and 
hauled him bodily from his seat, the 
hapless music master tumbling into the 
water. Another savage tried to serve 
Heyward in the same manner, but the 
officer shot the fiend through the body, 
and the bitching of the Huron as he 
reeled to and fro capsized the canoe in 
which he stood. 

The Redmen were hurled into the 
river, and, after dragging Gamut 
aboard again, Heyward paddled on. 
Then all at once he saw a kind of mist 
ahead, rising from a torrent of waters 
that streamed eternally over the brink 
of a cliff", and in the same instant he 
heard a shout from one of the canoes 
that were still pursuing. 

"The falls! The falls! Turn back!" 

The words were rendered in the Huron 
dialect, but Heyward had a smattering 
of the tongue, and understood them. 
He immediately called out to Gamut to 
use all his strength and help him steer 
t-ho craft towards the bank, but even as 
he was giving the command, a last ran- 
dom bullet from one of the retreating 
Indians hit the major's paddle just 
above the blade. 

The wood snapped, leaving Heyward 
with the useless handle. With an ex- 
clamation he snatched Gamut's paddle 
from the music-master's hands and tried 
to battle against the current that was 
sweeping the canoe onward. 

The force of the stream caught the 
craft and swung it completely round. 
In vain Heyward strove to control the 
light boat. It was racing on to its own 
destruction and the doom of its occu- 
pants—on towards the brink of a cata- 
ract a hundred and fifty feet in depth. 

Beyond the edge was yawning disas- 
ter, and, far down, jagged rocks where 
a million tons of water broke within 
every hour. 

"The falls, Major Heyward!" Alice 
screamed. "We're going straight for 
them !" 

Heyward clenched his teeth. The wet 
mist that rose from tire rim of those 
falls seemed to charge the air now, and 
the thunder of the cataract was loud in 
his ears. A weaker man would have 
given himself up for lost, as Gamut and 
the girls did, but the major summoned 
up all his strength for a forlorn effort. 
(To be continued in another splendid 
episode next week. The story of the 
film based on James Fenimore Cooper's 
immortal classic, " The Last of the 
Mohicans," and specially written for 
BOY'S CINEMA by permission of the 
Ideal Film Co., Ltd., starring Harry 
Carey, Edwina Booth and Hobart 

Every Tuesday 


(Continued from