Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

heroism which would cause a sane man to suffer so nobly for such an utterly worth- less cause. And yet, still further under- neath—was it worthless? As the voluble old bartender intimated, the a ad- vertised Dan Dolan and his oods through- out the Southwest and laid the foundations for a power which now seemed to hold this district in the hollow of one mighty hand. Thus in its last analysis the thing was a masterpiece of business acumen, and yet— the man who had shown such acuteness was probably out now, laying all his brains aside, bringing himself into the gutter with the rest and giving vent to his dangerous passions by committing murder with a shot- gun! Carlton was not sure, but he thought he had heard a muffled report from some- where outside during the bartender’s nar- rative, The men drank in silence, as if waiting for something to happen. The engineer took a small drop for sociability, then turned and looked outside the door toward the ramshackle street. A shadow crossed Dolan’s board walk; then heavy footsteps sounded upon it. The boss strode in with the shotgun still in his hand, looking neither to right nor left. He passed behind the bar, threw the gun open, tossed out an empty shell, blew down the barrel, threw in a fresh cartridge and put the weapon under the bar. After which he wiped his hands on his trousers. “Well, what happened?” asked Carlton. “Got him,” grunted Dolan. “Who?” they all chorused. “Yager’s pal. Lige Hackett.” “Tead?”’ asked the engincer. “Veh. He reached for a gun.” It was a calm, easy statement. Carlton couldn’t admire that side of his friend. It gave him the chills. Also, there were con- sequences to consider. Though the old free-and-easy customs were still in effect here, the laws of the State were gaining ground daily and must be reckoned with. And then Carlton remembered that Dolan was “in bad’’ with certain persons ‘down below’’ at the county-seat. And the boss had taken the law into his own hands. “Well,” surmised the engineer slowly, “TI suppose we'll have investigations and ene The folks down below will all be up re ) “They will not!”’ scorned the boss. “How do you make that out?” “Confound nei ee “Didn't you remind me I was a deputy sheriff? Well, then Hackett died legal. He died resistin’ an officer!” vill IT WAS a clincher. The genial old thug was so satisfied about his flaw- less act of manslaughter that Carlton could only gasp. He felt himself coming under the s which made the others bestow upon the boss an awe that was tinged with admiration or fear, according to the view-point. In a way the engineer was be- ginning to be nervous about Dolan. It was like asking water to put out a fire and receiving a cloudburst. Carlton began to wonder how it was all going toend. Then he started wondering how it began. “Are—are you sure you got the right man?” he asked at length. “Sure? Why, didn’t Axel Yager say Hackett helped to kill Snow?” “Yes. Yes. I heard that. But how did you know Yager was the right man?” “Didn’t he confess?” “Yes. But how did you know before that?” The boss leaned across the bar and spoke very patiently. “Didn't I tell you once I was a merchant? Yeh. You remember. Well, ‘bout twelve years ago I got a lot of bandannas. One set had a floor-de-lee pattern. I sold ’em out years ago, ‘ceptin’ one. Jest one. I put her away among the old stock. She roosted there for years. Then two weeks ago the Yager brothers came in for a bandanna. I served ‘em myself. I was out of the stuff right then; so I dug around, Found that one. Sold it to Tom or Axel, I forgit which. She was the only floor-de- lee in the whole county. The pattern went, out years ago. Then Snow got killed. He had hold of that rag, It was Tom or Axel killed him, but I didn’t know which. Tom was sleepin’ off a long jag; so it was Axel. See? It’s are tog ene you're comicbooks.com