Adventure Magazine Cover, December 18, 1919 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

’ the newcomer’s face. 16 Adventure| With three strides Packard reached him, finding Bill Royce’s hand with his. “Right you’ are, Bill Royce,” he cried warmly as at last his and Royce’s hands Jocked hard. “T’m fired, you say!’ Blenham was storm- ing, his eyes wide. ‘Fired? Who says so, I want to know?” “T say so,’”’ returned Packard shortly. “You?” shouted Blenham. “If you mean ol’ man Packard has sent you to take my place just because—_ It’s a he; I don't believe it.” “This outfit doesn’t Reus to belong to old man Packard—yet,” said Steve coolly. “Does it, Royce?”’ 3 “Not by a sight!’ answered the blind man joyously. ‘“An’ it never will now, Steve! Not now.” Blenham looked mystified; rubbing his skinned knuckles, he glared from Steve to Royce, then to the other faces, no less puz- zled than his own. “N lobody can fire me but el’ man Pack- ard,”’ he muttered heavily, though his tone was troubled. ‘“‘Without you got an order from him, all signed an’ ready for me to read——”’ : “What I have,” cut in Steve crisply, “‘is the bulge on the situation, Blenham. Ranch Number Ten doesn’t belong to the old man; it is the property of his grandson, whose name is Steve Packard, — which also happens to be my name.” Blenham sneered. “T don’t believe it,” he snapped. “Ex- pect me to pull my freight at the say-so of the first stranger that blows in an’ invites me to hand him my job?” He laughed into “Tf it happens that you ‘are Steve Packard,” he concluded bluntly, ‘“‘what did you come — around lookin’ for a job for yesterday? Huh?” Packard studied him a moment curiously, instinctively aware that the time might come when it would be well to have taken stock correctly of his grandfather’s lieu- tenant. Then, before replying, he looked at the faces of the other men. When he spoke it was to them. “Boys,’ he said quietly, ‘this outfit belongs to me. I am Steve Packard, the son of Philip Rackard who owned Number Ten Ranch and who mortgaged it but did not sell it to his father—my grandfather. I’ve just got back home; I mean to- have what is mine; I am going to pay the mort- : ¢ gage somehow. I haven’t jumped in with my sleeves rolled up for trouble eitfer; had Blenham been a white man instead of a brute and a bully he might have kept his job under me. But I guess you all know the sort of life he has been handing Royce, here. Bill taught me how to ride and shoot and fight and swim; pretty well every- thing I know that’s worth knowing. Since I was a kid he’s been the best friend I ever had. Anything else you boys would like to know?” Barbee had risen slowly from the floor. “‘Packard’s son or the devil’s,” he said quickly, his eyes never leaving Blenham, * “Tm with you.’ The man whom, over the card- table, Barbee had addressed as Spotty and whose _nickname had obviously been gained for him by the peculiar tufts of white hair in a young tousled head of very dark brown, cleared his throat and so drew all eyes to himself at his side of the room. “Bill Royce bein’ blind, if you could only prove somehow who you are—’’ he sug- gested, tone and expression plainly indicat- ing his willingness, even SAREE, to be convinced. “Even if I can’t see him,” his own voice eager, “‘I know! An’ I can prove it for my part by a.couple of little questions~if you boys will take my word for it?” “Shoot,” said Spotty. you a liar yet, Bill.” “Then, Stevie,” said Royce, just a shade of anxiety in his look as his ‘sightless eyes roved here and there, ‘answer me this: What was the first horse you ever rode?” “A mare,” said Steve. “Black Molly.” “Right!” and Royce’s voice rang trium- phantly. ‘Next: Who nailed the board over the door? The ol’ cedar board?” -“Y did. Just before I went away.” “An’,”’ continued Royce, his voice low- ered a trifle, ‘an’ what did you say about it, Stevie? Twas to know As “Coach him up! Tell him what to say, why don’t you?” jeered Blenham. “T don’t think I need to,” repeed Royce quietly. ‘Dol, Steve?” “T was pretty much of a kid shen: Bill,” said Packard, a half smile coming into his “No man’s called eyes for the first time, a smile oddly gentle ~ “T had been reading one of the Arabian Nights tales; that’s what-put it into my head.” said Royce: :