Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

nat hs tly * ee. ‘IT MADE threats. I said I'd: get that water if I had to clean out his stock and him into the bargain. That was a month ago. Since then the valley hasn’t been healthy for any one. Some one’s been poisoning his horses, and somebody tried to burn my house. I sleep now with a shotgun alongside my bed, and the wife’s close to hysterics.” _ “Where did you learn about Finch?” asked Dolan suddenly. “The old Government land-agent. He knows the whole county.” Carlton tolled off victims on his fingers. “A man named Brady had the ranch before me. He died two years ago, after selling the land back to Finch cheaply. The man before that was Dingle or Dingwall. The man before that was one Tom Fulton.” “Tom Fulton?” interrupted Dolan. “Ful- ton? Yeh, you’re right; it was Tom Fulton. Go on.” “The man before that was named Mor- ris, and I forget the rest. Every one of them lacked water, couldn’t trigate and had to sell the ranch back to Finch—very . cheap. Two of them had lawsuits but couldn’t prove anything. In other words, Ebenezer Finch uses the prettiest little valley in the county as bait for a legal, logical skin-game. He sells the ranch, parches the land, terrorizes the victims in one way or another and then gets the ranch back through a friendly deal!” Dolan’s stubby fingers drummed on the table, and he stared at Carlton as if to make sure of his estimate of the man. He saw a decent, clean young American, neither blond nor dark, neither brilliant nor wit- less, but just an ordinary well-educated young fellow who looked as if he might be worth helping. “That’s right,” he nodded. “It’s a swindle, You're stung. Might as well pack up your duds and mosey along. Only—I wouldn't.” . “You mean—fight it out?” asked Carlton. “Stick,” grunted the big saloon-keeper. Then suddenly he became halting and diffident, as if trying to pick the words to outline his attitude. “I’m sort of neutral,” he explained. “I’m jest watchin’ on the side-lines. Mebbe I’m playin’ my own — rae t. We'll see. I got no special county. What we need is decent people. 1 You and your wife seem like what we want. ‘o ST a - -"— © * ae ~y «}s s\n alee : ie ‘oa 7? a all /~ = — _ * The Boss of Mirage green valley under the copper mountain. = ‘ 4a Se eee : 7 a. Sap i _— ’ * 52 If your sort always gits froze out, there’s nothin’ for this cotinty but booze and roughs forever. Savvy?” Carlton had hoped for understanding from this burly, rough-handed saloon- keeper in shirt-sleeves, but such idealism from the owner of the worst “sin palace” in the county was unexpected. The big boss caught his look and frowned. ~ “Veh, I know what you're thinkin’,” boomed Dolan’s heavy voice in its choppy manner. “Dolan keeps a_ dance-hall. Booze. Women. Dolan, the merchant, may be different’ He’s gittin’ a little old. Beginnin’ to look ahead like a merchant ~ should. This country’s got to have decent — people. She’s goin’ to git ’em!”’ '. | Carlton was beginning to gage this new friend. The big, heavy-browed fighter stood alone in this community, and, a little _ chastened by the years, without wife, — family or close pals, he was starting to feel his loneliness. His talk was not reform. It was friendship. The engineer knew he had come to the right place. . “T won’t take up your fight, but you’re goin’ to git asquare deal!’’ continued Dolan. ‘‘Mebbe I'll have a scheme for you pretty soon. Mebbe not. Anyhow, go back and fight it out!” ‘ “T willl” said the engineer, arising and — gripping the other’s big hand for just a moment and then letting it go. Py ’ Effusiveness would have spoiled things, | and he knew it. Then with a nod he walked to the door and mounted his bay | horse and started for home, heartened by _ the knowledge that the toughest, shrewdest _ old ruffian in the district was a friend and > possibly an ally. He was ignorant of the © political and social conditions within this — tumultuous county, ignorant of the sub- conscious motives of Dolan and totally ignorant of the size of the battle he had entered into. He only knew that he had :. gained a friend whose advice and backing __ might be well worth while, and, thus satis- fied, he started on the long trail toward the ! —¥R TWO hours later Carlton was riding : along a winding road on the: "- a barren, rocky mountain rang Sometimes, when the dust settled or s hills failed to obstruct his view, he