Adventure, February 1917 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

116 “Rosalind is uh nice girl but she’s got uh temper that would, when it busts, make uh stick of dynamite sound like th’ scratchin’ of uh sulfur match. She told me that she liked yore looks th’ first time she ever seen yuh, Sigismund, but it’s money she wants— not love.” “She’s done married Ren,” sarcastically, “Already? take any chances. J’ll tell you uh secret Ricky Henderson told.” Sig looked foolishly at her and scratched _his head. “Ricky did, eh? Jist about how much did that hombre e-lucidate?” - “He came in here the other day after Renley had gone, and he told us all about Renley being the real owner of the Triangle cattle and also havin’ uh big interest in th’ Seven A. Oh, he'told us all about Renley. Ricky had been drinkin’, I think.” “So Rosalind——’” “Tist a moment, Sigismund. I want to make a little confession. Her name is not Rosalind, but Matilda. We traded names when we came up here because mine fits her better than her own. Of course all our friends outside of Piperock know that my name is Rosalind. Of course when she found out all about Renley——” “Yes’m,” agreed Sig. ‘She marries him - fer his money. Honest, ma’am, I feels fer both of them.” ‘Sig walks back across th’ street in uh dazed sort-a way and leans against th’ bar. “Rosalind, eh?” he snorts to himself. states Sig My, my, she shore didn’t Adventure “Well, don’t that beat four of uh kind. Renley is th’ owner of th’— Gosh! There’s goin’ to be uh noise like uh ton of dynamite in that li’l ol’ honeymoon. Huh! That Elberton person must shore be uh col- lector uh knick-knacks and—I wonder if he was drunk, too?” Buck Masterson walks in from th’ front and ranges alongside of Sig. “T’ve sent fer th’ preacher,” he states. But Sig jist grunts. He’s tryin’ to visual- ize th’ face on Jack Elberton, which would want to come clear to Piperock to kiss Miss Beebee. “Did you know her name was Rosalind?” asks Sig. “Shore,” says Buck, and then he gits confidential and talks in uh low tone. “Dog-gone th’ luck, Sig, I shore wish it was all over. It’s got me so danged jumpy that I flinches at everything. I wish—huh—I wish—say, Sig, uh feller hadn’t ought to drink whisky a-tall. He hadn’t ought to take even one li’] friendly drink. TI-——” “Say,” snorts Sig, ‘You don’t mean to tell me that you was full when you——” “Fuller’n uh shepherd,” states Buck solemnly. “By cripes, I was so full that I’d have proposed to uh—say, where yuh oin’?”’ | “Mee” asks Sig, turnin’ around in th’ doorway, and holdin’ up his right hand. “I’m goin’ out to meet that preacher per- son and I’m—goin’—to—sign—th’ pledge! Sabe? Self-preservation is th’ first law of nature, and I’d rather be preserved than pickled. It’s safer.” (Eo) GOmicbook