“LORD OF LONELY VALLEY.”

Matamata Record, Volume XX, Issue 2019, 23 March 1939, Page 2

“LORD OF LONELY VALLEY.”

When they reached the landing, Tom Harmon did not wait,to close the boathouse doors, in such a hurry was he. He leaped into Janet’s car, and they drove straight across the meadows to the ranch buildings, bumping recklessly. When they got there, he leaped out. “Good-night. Thanks for your company, Miss Janet. Don’t tell Ray what’s doin’ an’ don’t answer the doorbell tonight, an’ don’t let a light burn in Ray’s bedroom. Can you obey orders without questionin' them?” he added almost fiercely. “Always have. Trained that way, Tom. Good-night and take core of yourself." And she turned the car and rolled away up the road toward the Big House. Janet put her car in the garage and went into the house via the kitchen, to be met, with an accusing glare from Ah Fong. “Boss klazy,” he informed her. “Boss thinkee maybe something happen out on lake, you no come back. Wha’ for you so late? You no gottee business makee boss klazy.”

Janet was sensible of a distinct thrill at the Chinaman’s announcement. Ray Lanier did not want her to stay in Lonely Valley, yet the strange fellow still could worry about her! She gave Ah Fong a smile of commendation and went on into Lanier’s room. INSTALMENT 23.

“Ah Fong - informs mb you've been crazy with worry because Tom and I stayed out on the lake so late,” she greeted him. ‘Tve been half-crazy, at any rate,” he replied irritably. “Here it is almost an hour after dark—-and you should have been in before dark, I’ll roast Tom Harmon for that.” He growled something unintelligible. “Why,” Janet continued spitefully, “why should you start worrying over me so soon? You do not like me any more, and you’re sending me away from here bright and early in the morning.” “I have a reason for that, and it isn’t dislike," he protested.

Instead of .continuing the conversation, she felt his pulse and thrust the thermometer into his mouth; “You have half a degree of temperature,” she announced. “It’s a wonder I haven’t burned up.” “Nonsense! Have you had your dinner?” f “No, I was waiting for you. What the devil kept you and Tom out so late?” “Oh, we lost track of time and had to search for the channel!” she replied with a smile. ../ “Tomorrow,” she informed , him, “you may get out of bed arid sit in a chair; you might, walk around the bed twice. Thereafter you will gain strength at an amazing rate', but you must take things easy for at least a week after you And yourself able to walk about the house. And now, as I am leaving very early in the morning, I shall say good-bye to you.” He reached over to the commode, found his cheque hook, detached a cheque, and gave it to her. She saw that it was for a thousand dollars. “If I criuld' afford it,” he said huskily, “I’d have written that cheque for ten thousand.” “You might just as well have done that, because I’ll never cash this cheque anyhow." lie reached for her hand and drew it up to his lips. “Good-bye, my dear," he half choked, "Good-bye, good luck, arid pleasant green fields for you always.” "Thank yow, Ray. I haven't the faintest idea what this is all about, but whatever i„ is, it's your business. Just tell me you really don't dislike me.” '

lie shook his head slowly; it was obvious that he could not speak. She bent over him. “And goodbye, good luck, and pleasant green fields for you, old Funny Face,"’ she said softly. She drew the curtains down and turned out the light. “Don’t draw the curtains, please,” lie protested. “They’ll flap and keep me awake.” “Not when the windows are shut.” “But I want lots of fresh air. And I don’t want the light turned out. I’m going W read myself to sleep.” “Win you please permit me to manage you this last night.” There was excited pleading in her tones, and it was not lost on him. He laughed softly in the darkness. "There’s danger abroad tonight. Somebody must have got past Hugo and his men, so .Tom told you to keep my room in darkness. Well, lie’s right. A man could creep up on the verandah and pot me through the window yonder. Told you to keep the lights off and not answer the door hell, didn’t he?" “Yes, he did. Now don’t ask me anything more.” “What did you see out on the lake? Tell me,",., he commanded. “Tom told me not to.” “I can’t be trifled with, and it takes a smarter woman than you to deceive mp. , Usually our kind of , people ,do not have to be told things. We de-

By PETER B. KYNE.

duce them. Gome clean, Janet.” She decided she-had no alternative save to break her promise to Hannon and tell him. He groaned in his helplessness. “They’ve come to burn my hay,’’ he told her, “because that’s the most terrible thing that could happen to me. If we have a hard winter and no hay, my cattle will die. They’re fat now, and I have to keep them fat, because fat keeps out the cold. A thin cow can't survive a hard winter in this country. It’s been a dry year in this state to the south, and I couldn’t find pasture to ship them to if I wanted to. Hay is high and scarce. It would cost me fifty thousand d&, > s to save the herd if they burn my uy. Landrum wants to destroy security to the bank he controls; „*en he’ll get a deficiency judgment against me and grab all my o.'tU for a song he’ll sing himself. A 6' thousand thin cattle will not pay my note with Landrum, the only buyer, when they’re sold at public auction by the sheriff, so. he’ll attach Lonely Valley Lake. By Judas, that man’s smart! Arid he sent them over in a boat because water leaves no trail.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Ray, if I were you. Tom Harmon’s on the job.” . “I'm not worrying. I’m just wild because I can’t do myself the job Tom is going to do-—and that is kill those two, arsonists.”

He lay there in the dark without speaking for another minute, th&i; “There are stacks scattered all over a seven-thousand-acre • meadow. That rrieans a lot of territory to cover, make a getaway, and be back in Modoc City by daylight to prove an alibi. They couldn’t cover the ground afoot. Janet, go to the telephone and ring three long bells. I have an outpost down in that corner of the ranch—a cabin occupied by Hugo’s brother, Theodore, and his half-breed squaw. Try to get him on the telephone. If he answers, iell him all you have just told me, and he’ll know what to do.” . She returned in five minutes to report no answer to her call. ~ * “I thought so. Now step out on the verandah, look southwest, and see if a long way from here you see a faint light.”. Janet obeyed, but could see no light. “From this height I can always see the light in Theodore’s cabin,” he told her. “No answer to our telephone and no lights means they’ve got Theodore and his wife. I thought they’d do that. A job of this sort has to be planned in advance. “Those two men discovered Theodore lias a light motor truck at the outpost. He uses it to carry’salt out to; the. cattfe arid;•tq tpav-el-between: his" outpost and the ranch commissary for supplies’. Yes, they’d need his truck to cover that big meadow, because they’ll have to be across the lake again before the first stack flares up. And they’ll have another use for the truck —to carry their cans of kerosene and a box of candles. “Tin’s is how they’ll do the job, Janet. They’ll scoop out a little cave in the lee of a stack, so the wind won’t blow out the lighted candle they’ll set there in a base of kerosenesoaked hay. In two hours the candle will burn down to its base —and bingo! the stack’s afire.' I hope Tom will figure that out. If he gets the men blit lets the hay go up in smoke, I’m afraid he’ll be out of the best job lie’s ever going to have. I hope he’ll get there in time.” “He will,” .Tanet assured Lanier. “He was moving fast the last I saw of him, and I’m sure he’ll have time to get there and intercept them. They cannot work in the dark very well, so they’ll wait until the moon comes up. We have a full moon tonight." “I never thought of that. Janet, you’re the shadow of a rock in a weary land.” “That’s the second time you’ve told me that. And still you’re resolved to banish me." She stood beside him a moment, wondering how she was going to say good-bye to him in his extremity. “I’ll not be seeing you again,” she said finally. “So good-bye again, old Funny Face. Good-bye and good luck. I’ll be gone early in the mornHe did not answer her.

She .went out into the living room, selected a hook from his small but distinguished library, and sat down before the log tire to read until Tom Harmon telephoned a report of his night’s work. She had a feeling, amounting to a conviction, that he would report in. INSTALMENT 24. Upon leaving Janet, Tom Ilarmpn. ran over to the ranch mess hall, where the men were sitting smoking their after-dinner cigarettes. Ho went straight. to*y,the wall telephone and rang three long bells repeatedly. Receiving no answer, he turned to- face the company. “Two of Landrum’s killers are-in the valley tonight," he announced. “Big Foot, you take Skunk Tallow and Little Coyote and Felix, and guard the first and Investigate aftervyard.’’ Before he could giye them their or-

ders the Sphinx twins were hurrying from the mess hall. “Saddle my horse, too,” Harmon called after them. He permitted himself a small smile. Smart pair, the twins. Not having been assigned to duty at the Big House, they knew there was work afoot elsewhere and that Tom Harmon would lead them to it. ■ , , • , Harmon ate his supply hastily and went to his own cottage for his leather jerkin, his six-shooter, 'rifle, and ammunition. When he emerged, the „twins were waiting for him/ mounted and leading his horse. He swung into the saddle and cantered out of the quadrangle formed by the cluster of ranch buildings, the twins at his heels, taking the road that ran parallel to the high-line irrigation ditch. The faint-sheen pf* starlight on the water enabled them to keep to the road in the darkness. An hour’s riding at the little, easy cat-lope of the trained cow horses, and they passed through' a gate into the great meadow. Here one of the twins spoke. “They got Theodore, Tom.” “Sure. His light’s out, an’ he didn’t answer the telephone.” “Moon’s cornin’ up," the other twin announced. “Don’t be such chatterboxes,” Tom Harmon warned, and cantered across the meadow until he reached a grove of ,flrs about fifty yards from one of the stacks. They backed their horses into the deep shadow arid dismounted. “Tie their tongues down,” Harmon

commanded. “Can’t have ’em nick-

erin’'an’ givin’ us away. Then lead jem qff on a flank. Don’t Agger on gettin’ any horses killed, either.” Thq-,hprses’ tongues were tied down with buckskin thongs. ; “I think* they’re out to bui’n the hay,” Harmon explained then. “Nat-

urally they’ll • start with the, stacks . farthest: from the lake- an’ work toward the lake. They came in * a boat. They’ll follow the old road from Theodore’s shack up to this first line o’ hay slacks, an’ I’m flggerin’ they’ll start with the stack yonder, on the sheltered side of it/ The feller that plants the, lighted candle will have to • crawl in under the barbed wire fence around the. stack. (The stacks were ail fenced to keep the cattle from them until the seasion for hay feeding should commence). $; It’il • bej bright ' moon-' V light; but they’won’t see % us in the shadow of these firs, so we ought to get them from here.' If .we don’t get ’em —an’ I don’t claim to be no dead shot in the moonlight—they may hide we won’t take chances. We don’t any of us want to get killed, an’ we* can afford to lose one stack o’ hay to save our skins.” •