Adventure, February 1917 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

Ito gin’ yuh both here, and if yuh behave it's bound to die out in uh little while. That Chink is still in th’ hospital at Helena.” ‘, ~ “Pshaw!” exclaims Ren. ‘That’s too danged bad. But I asks yuh, Buck, how was I to know that th’ Chink was behind that box, too? That Greaser ducks be- “hind it and I never once thinks that there’s room fer two people. It surprises me so I lets th’ Greaser git away.” “T allus told yuh,” stated Sig, “that you depends too much on th’ jump of that ol’ .41. Now, uh .45 is heavy enough that she don’t jump. To illustrate my point clearly ——” Right then Buck cuts in and talks ’em out of it. Uh six-gun demonstration ain’t no pink tea, especially when th’ demon- strator has about six scoops uh hooch under his belt. . They has a few more drinks and then decides to eat, so they ambles across th’ _ street to Jimmy Peyton’s Boston Chop House, th’ only eatin’ place in th’ town. There ain’t nobody in sight, so Ren yells— “Timmy, yuh lop-eared son-of-uh-sea- cook, bring us uh meenoo!” Right then they gits uh surprise. Instead of Jimmy, with his dirty apron and a half- smoked cigaret hangin’ out uh one side of his mouth, out waltzes th’ swellest lookin’ female person they ever saw, and she single-foots right up to ’em with uh. smile, and then out comes another she person, but this last one ain’t noways in th’ same class as Number One. They’re both wearin’ li’] dinky white aprons and uh head full uh hair, but here th’ similarity ceases some abrupt. Th’ first one is packin’ class by th’ ton. She’s —well, she looks uh lot like th’ lady on th’ Empire Packin’ Company’s caléndar, which ‘ol’ man Padden has hangin’ over his bunk. Th’ other is older by twenty years and seems sorta sprung in th’ knees. She’s got uh forearm like Jefferies and needs uh shave. Th’ first one leans over th’ table and hands uh printed bill uh fare, but Ren don’t read it a-tall. He says, “Thanks, ma’am,”’ and puts it in his pocket. Th’ older one grins at Sig and says, “Nice day.” “Uh-huh,” agrees Sig. “It -shore is. Don’t hardly look like it might rain.” Ren just sits there lookin’ at th’ pretty one, like uh chickadee lookin’ at uhrattler. He ain’t able to even wink. Adventure “Soup?” asks th’ lady. “Are we?” asks Ren, turnin’ to Sig, who is also industriously sizin’ up th’ beauty show. . “Intensely,” agrees Sig, and th’ two females beat it fer th’ kitchen. “Do you gentlemen live here?” asks th’ pretty one, when she deposits th’ soup on th’ | table. “We—huh— yes’ m I-reckon yuh might say we do,” stammers Ren, tryin’ to eat soup with ‘his fork and keep both hands out of sight. “We don’t usually live here,” amended Sig. “But we can. You livin’ “here?” Th’ other female has jist come out of th’ kitchen and she answers: “My cousin and I bought this place a week ago from Mr. Peyton. I am Miss Matilda Beebee, and my cousin here is Miss ~ Rosalind Madeline McGuire.”’ Ren spilt his soup gittin’ up and reaches out his hand. “Pleased to meet yuh,” says he, sayin’ th’ same thing to both of them. “I’m Sigismund Alexander Watson, and my friend here is Ren Merton.” | “Christened,” says Ren, “Renley St. Clair Merton. I welcomes yuh to Pipe- rock.” “Ren,” says Sig, when they had managed to tear themselves away from th’ eatin’ house, “where did you git that l-e-y on Ren, and also that St. Clair?” _ “Slick-eared ’em,” grinned Ren, “‘jist like you did i-s-m-u-n-d and Alexander. Do you think fer uh minute that I eats dust from any bow-legged cow trailer when it comes to names? Not a-tall. Sabe?” “Some filly!” states Sig. “Mama mine! Some filly!” “We're goin’ to have preachin’ tonight in Piperock,” states Buck, as he slides th’ " poison vial down th’ bar to th’ boys. “What for is this preachin’?” asks Ren. “Somebody dead?” “Nope: Jist common Gospel. I hovers to take one of th’ girls across th’ street.” i “Asked her yet?” asks Sig, with uh grin. Buck polished off the bar and replaced the bottles before he replied— ““Nope—not yet.” They imbibes their drinks and wanders out on th’ porch. “Tog-gone!”’ exclaims Sig. “TI reckon I leaves my quirt over to th’ restaurant. Better go and git it.” (Elo) <S) =) OO