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Illustrated byVerne C.Christy in alone. Suddenly there came an unn.'stakable thump of horses' hours off some where to the fore. Then a scream rent the air. It ended abruptly. Duane leaped forward and tore his way through the thorny brake. He heard Jennie cry again-an appealing call, quickly hushed. It seemed more to his right, and he plunged that way. He burst into a glade where a smoldering fire and ground covered with footprints and tracks showed that campers had lately been. Rushing across this, he broke his passage out to the>open. But he was too late. His horse had disappeared. Jennie There was no rider in was gone sight. There was no sound. It came to him then like a blow that he loved the girl. For three long and terrible years Buck Duane rode up and down the Texas border. His fame grew steadily until he was the most noted and most misrepresented outlaw of his day Hundreds of men in the border towns claimed friendship with him. Every honest rancher between Brownsville and El Paso would have been glad to shake his hand and hide him. Every outlaw along the river feared him; every crooked gambler in the monte dens played fair when Duane happened to drop in; every imitation bad man in the southwest of Texas wanted to kill him, bragged on his name, hunted when fired by drink. The better half of that widely scattered populace especially in localities Duane had visited, was loath to believe him perpetrator of the crimes laid to him. The ignorant and outlawed class fastened on his name all sign-post seemed to be the thing that tipped the oscillating balance of decision in favor of that direction. He answered here to unfathomable impulse. In Duane's state of mind clear reasoning, common sense, or keenness were out of the question. He went because he felt that he was compelled. Dusk had fallen when he rode into a town which inquiry discovered to be Fairfield. Captain MacNelly's camp was stationed just out of the village limits on the other side. No one except the boy Duane questioned appeared to notice his arrival. Like Shirley, the town of Fairfield was large and prosperous, compared to the innumerable hamlets dotting dotting the vast extent of southwestern Texas. As Duane rode through, being careful to get off the main street, he heard the tolling of a church bell that was a melancholy reminder of his old home. There did not appear to be any camp on the outskirts of the town. But as Duane sat on his horse, peering around and undecided what further move to make, he caught the glint of flickering lights through the darkness. Heading toward them, he rode perhaps a quarter of a mile to come upon a grove of mesquits. The bright ness of several fires made the surrounding darkness all the blacker. Duane saw the moving forms of men and heard horses. He advanced naturally, expecting any moment to be halted. "Who goes there came the sharp call out of the gloom. Duane pulled his horse. The gloom was impenetrable. "One man-alone," replied Duane. "A stranger the rustling, hold-ups, robberies, murders, when -direct evidence did not point to someone else. In a sense, the reputation of every famous outlaw developed by these wild years had suffered more or less from this natural exaggeration and misrepresentation. But INC outlaw bebore him had ever had such a host of admirers and partisans who fiercely gave the lie to any accusation of robbery or crime attributed to him. It was widely known that he had never earned a dollar in his outlaw career. It was sworn by many and reputable men that he had never stolen. Few towns or villages on that border had no storekeeper who had not a tale to tell about Duane, the Lone Wolf. One afternoon, from the top of a long hill, Duane saw the green fields and trees and shining roofs of a town he considered must be Shirley; and at the bottom of the hill he came upon an intersecting road. There was a placard nailed on the cross-road sign-post. Duane drew rein near it and leaned close to read the faded print: $1,000 REWARD FOR BUCK DUANE DEAD OR ALIVE Peering closer to read the finer, more faded print, Duane learned that he was wanted for the murder of Mrs. Jeff Aiken at her ranch near Shirley. The month of September was named, but the date was illegible. The reward was offered by the woman's husband, whose name appeared, with that of a sheriff's at the bottom of the placard. Duane read the thing twice. When he straightened he was sick with the horror of his fate, wild with passion at those misguided fools who could believe that he had harmed a woman. When Duane reached the crossing of the roads the name Fairfield on the "Yes." "What do you want?" "I'm trying to find the ranger "You've struck it. What's your errand "I want to see Captain MacNelly." "Get down and advanc Slow. Don't move your hands. It's dark, but can see." Duane dismounted and, leading his horse, slowly advanced a few paces. He saw a dully bright object, a gun, before he discerned the man who held it. A few more steps showed a dark figure blocking the trail. Here Duane halted. "Come closer, stranger. Let's have a look at you," the guard ordered curtly. Duane advanced again until he stood before the man. Here the ray of lights from the fire flickered upon Duane's face fantastically. "Reckon you're a stranger all right. What's your name and your business with the captain?" Duane hesitated, pondering what best to say. "Tell Captain MacNelly I'm the man he's been asking to ride into his camp after dark," finally said Duane. The ranger bent forward to peer hard at this night visitor. His manner had been alert and now it became tense. "Come here-one of you menquick," he called without turning in the least toward the camp-fire. "Hello! What's up, Pickens came the swift reply. It was followed by rapid"thud boots on soft ground. A dark form crossed the gleams from the firelight. Then a ranger loomed up, to reach the side of the guard. Duane heard whispering, the purport of which he could not catch. The second ranger swore under his breath. Then he turned away and started back. "Here, ranger, before you go, understand this. My visit is peacefulfriendly, if you'll let it be. Mind, I was asked to come here after dark." Duane's clear, penetrating voice carried far. The listening rangers at the camp-fire heard what he said. "Ho, Pickens-tell that fellow to wait," replied an authoritative voice. Then a slim figure detached itself from the dark, moving group at the camp-fire and hurried_out. "Better be foxy, Cap," shouted a ranger in warning. "Shut up-all of you," -3 the reply. This officer, obviously Captain Mac Nelly, soon joined the two rangers who were confronting Duane. He had no fear. He strode straight up to Duane. "I'm "MacNelly," he said. "If you're the man don't mention your name yet." All this seemed SO strange to Duane, in keeping with much that had happened lately. "Buck Duane! It's you he whispered eagerly. "Yes." "If I give my word you'll not be arrested-you'll be treated fairlywill you come into camp and consult with me?" "Certainly." "Duane, I'm sure glad to meet you," went on MacNelly and extended his hand. Amazed and touched, scarcely realizing this actuality, Duane gave his hand and felt no unmistakable grip of warmth. "It doesn't seem natural, Captain MacNelly, but I believe I'm glad to meet you," said Duane soberly. "You will be. Now we'll go back to eamp. Keep your identity mum for the present." He led Duane in the direction of the camp-fire. (Continued Next Week) NOTICE The Statutes of Kansas provide that all claims of depositors and other creditors must be filed with the Receiver within one year after the date f his appointment, and if not SO fled such claim shall be barred from participation in the estate of bank. The Receiver of the Lu11 State Bank of Ludell, Kansas, was appointed on January 19th, 1928. Charles W. Johnson, Receiver Ludell State Bank. 262t. Vesuvius helped make it; now an earthquake couldn't stop it. "The White Sister" at Electric Dec. 25-26.
