Western Story Magazine, May 12, 1934 — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

The Barking Dog - Parks exploded. “Far as I know, we ain’t got no sheriff. In town they’s a clerk or a bartender or some hombre that wears a star, but I don’t know him an’ don’t wanta know him. Elizabeth, the law is right here on this ranch. I’m glad Wwe ain’t got no other law yet. I spose the law will come. This ol’, big country is bein’ cut up now. Wish she’d stayed like she was. Well, till the real law gets here, we're the law. Cow stealin’ is pun- ishable by death.” “T didn’t ask you whether you could turn them over to the sheriff,” Elizabeth said, rather tartly. “I stated that you could not. I’ve seen that sheriff.’’ “You're talkin’ like your father now, girl,” old Parks growled. Elizabeth rose and walked to the door of the other room. There she turned and regarded Jerry. “Your” she asked. “T gotta.” “And Tyson?” “Oh, we'll have to — Tyson outta it, Parks,” Jerry said. “Ac- count his wife. A man that has a wife like her can’t be in on a thing like that.” “Yeah,” Parks agreed, “we'll get away from him somehow.” Elizabeth gave Jerry a long, slow look and went into the other room. “See how she looked at you, Jerry?” Parks asked. “Lissen, Parks,” Jerry said ear- nestly, “if you don’t stop talkin’ about that matter, you an’ me'll tangle. JI mean it!” “T gotta get the girl married off to a puncher or a cowman,” Parks said, as earnestly. “It’s been sev’rul years sence I had her where I could get at her. I don’t mean to let her get away.” He laughed lghtly. “Course, it’s ridic’lous for me to be playin’ the part o’ that little, nakid 101 guy that wears a harp or wings or whatever ’stead of a gun, but I gotta do the best I can.” “I guess Elizabeth will pick her own husband, ” Jerry said, somewhat sulkily. “My gosh, you couldn’t make her marry the man you picked.” “T wouldn’t try to make her do nothin’,” Parks snorted. “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink, but you stand a, damn sight better chance o’ gettin him to drink if you do lead him to water ‘stead o’ hazin’ him up to it.” “T think you’re full o’ uncooked dough,” Jerry declared. “Way I feel ezac’ly,” Parks de- clared, “but I think a lot o’ Eliza- beth.” “You better not go singin’ my praises to her.” “TY had it in my mind,” Parks confessed, “but the way she’s been lookin’ at you has caused me to hold my tongue. I’m sadisfied with the situation just as it is. Aw, keep your seat, Jerry. I wanta talk business with you.” “T don’t think it’s in you to talk business,” Jerry flared. “Whatcha think of the layout now?” Parks’ asked _ serenely. “Whatcha think o’ this talk of Black Redman or whatever his name is? Think Virlee is in it?” “T cer’nly think Virlee is in it. I think Blackman does the cow work for him. I think Blackman was re- sponsible for the killin’ of Treece.” “You see a red-headed man that time?” “T wasn’t so lucky. I don’t think this Red Blackman appears except as he rides about the country alone. I don’t think he mixes in anything any more than Virlee does.” “Yeah. That sounds good. Well, we got two diff’runt kinds of men to deal with. I on vy _get #. kind. sou