Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

4 i 4 4 4 ; 7 explosive. Among other things it shrieked “Gimme my gun!” and “Lemme at him!” “No!” came the voice of Jim Black dur- ing a silence. ‘Stop that! Wait till you get *tended to!” A murmur of voices followed, broken by another shrieking volley of wildcat profanity but the writhing form of the wounded Tom Fulton had been carried out of sight, and Finch had not seen him, Carlton, noting with interest that Finch had taken on another feud, felt queerly like a front-seat spectator in a show arranged for his benefit as he looked out of the win- dow. Dolan, standing alongside him, seemed angry. . boomed the heavy voice of the boss at length in infinite disgust. “Rotten job! Rotten!” And that was all he could say. A prospector came through the talking crowd at Dolan’s doorway and approached the boss, bringing news. “Didja see it?” he chirped. “A fella named Fulton met old Finch in the road- way and cussed him out. He ’peared to be drunk. He reached for his gun, an’ so did Finch. Finch shot him in the shoulder, an’ he shot Finch in the head, They was so close they jest couldn’t miss!” “Huh. What was the trouble?” asked Dolan innocently. The prospector’s face looked perplexed. *Darned if I know,” he answered. ‘‘Mebbe it’s some one that Finch skinned.” “How?” asked the boss. “TI don’t know,” answered the puzzled prospector. ‘‘Somethin’ was said about a ranch, but that was all I got.”’ The desert-rat seemed aggrieved about it. After a long, lonely trip through unlimited wastes, where he and his burro had probably suffered all sorts of hardships, he had witnessed a bang-up fight and didn’t un- derstand all about the matter, thus feeling deprived of something. He did not know Fulton. Few did. The male population drifted in and out continually—and five years is along time. Men did not generally know each other very well in this country. ‘Is Finch hurt bad?” asked the boss. “I dunno. Somebody went after Doc Davis, and mebbe we'll see. There’s the old doc now.” And the prospector ran away to keep tab on the latest develop- ments.” A stocky man with a warty face and a ae bystanders. Dan Dolan chucklon “It’s all right now. olan chuckled fort a Finch’! die.” € en r looked nonplussed. - ag «| octor,” explained Dolan. “Good man once, but went wrong. Came from New York. Had troubles, Drowned ’em. Been drownin’ ‘em ever since. If Finch is hurt bad, he’ll die.” SOMEHOW Carlton could not fall mit ‘y into this mood. Dolan might hate like that, but the couldn’t. The engineer failed to that Dolan locked an FiKGy be Gaerteiee. tae snake or any other pest which one did not hate but simply struck on rinciples, Without realizing it fully, Dolan, busy with engrossing business and political” fights, had despised the old hypocrite for years but never thought much about it until a man he liked became a victim. Now he was taking notice with a vengeance. “If Davis is loaded enough, he’ll operate,” added the boss. “That’s him. If he’s sober, he lets the patient alone. Patient recovers. If he’s full, he wants to show off. Tackles anything. He'd operate on the Angel Gabriel!” And Dolan’s calculating gaze went to the bottles stacked behind his busy bar. “Don’t!” advised Carlton. ‘“Isn’t there any other doctor around here?” Dolan looked a little disappointed at this squeamishness. “Nope,” he replied tersely. “There’s ~ three at the county-seat. None here but Davis. No use to bring in another doctor. Finch ain’t worth it.” The engineer felt properly rebuked. “Well,” he decided cautiously, ‘anyhow, maybe it’s best to be neutral. Let ’em alone. Let Davis kill or cure, That makes it a sporting proposition.” Carlton calcula ae the sporting ele- ment would appeal to Dolan, and it did. “Fair enough,” acceded the boss. “T’ll bet you ten he dies.” ~ ao A glance through the window deed that Finch had been carried somewhere out of sight. mae ae street ue deserted ~ . 7 me es rad = = oT ’ - r ar, a wee = # meannicbooles com. 14 an at _