Adventure Magazine Cover — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

a Put >> _ Anyway, we’re here to kill—not to get killed.” “Then consider Wick. Right now he ain’t worth a cent dead. You'd all be called upon to help bury him. Suppose his demise would pay you each five hundred dollars?”’ “J—DIL kuk-kill him for a dollar-eighty,” ~ mutters Ornery, “and——’” “Shut up!” snaps Tombstone. ‘‘What’s the idea, Ike?”’ I outlines it to them, and they give me three cheers. “If we don’t kill him this month can we ante again next month?” asks Half-Mile. 7 “Just as long as it takes you,” says I, and tucks the fifteen into my pocket. I uses oratory to get an audience with the judge and Pete. I stands at the corner of the building and discourses thusly: “Gents, I am neutral. I ain’t mad at no- body and my mission is peace on earth and something to bury.you with when you die. Can I come in?” “It’s the voice of Ike Harper but the argu- ment of a undertaker,” says Pete. ‘‘Come on ~ in, you danged old pelican.” I got the anvil between me and Mighty Jones and fills out two more applications. “Five dollars!” yawps Pete. ‘Five hundred dollars when I die? Haw! Haw! Haw! Mighty Jones couldn’t hit a flock of passenger trains. _ Me and the judge has just about got his location figured out and I’ll bet we shuffle him off inside _ of another box of shells.”’ “Ves, and what good will his corpse be to your Revenge is sweet, but wouldn’t it be sweeter if you could each collect five hundred dollars on his re-mains?” “My i snorts the judge. bounty on him?” Say, I explained it to them, and I has a hard time getting away. They each wanted to take out two against poor Mighty. “Do we bring in the whole carcass or just the ears, like they do with coyotes?” asks Pete. ° “Better keep all of him until we figures out some system.” Old Testament was eos to get at. I sneaks to the back of the stable, leans a peeled pole up to the hay window and starts climbing. I figures to see him before I see Buck. It ain’t “Ts there a over thirty feet up that pole, but she’s a long ' ways when you're expecting to be assaulted front and rear any minute. I gets one knee over the edge of the window when down on my head comes a fork-handle and I falls inside just in time to get the drag of both barrels of a shotgun from the rear. I feels that I’m plumb ragged of rear, but the. ringing in my ears makes me forget the pain. I seems to hear Buck’s voice saying— ~ “T’ll teach you to promote a drouth!”’ Then I hears Testament say pious-like: Mi the midst of life we are in death.” = Helped by a Horse Doctor | “Tt sure had its stinger working this day and date,” says I. Testament has got his head and arms out of the hay and is holding a busted fork-handle. “The wicked shall perish,” says Testament. “And the innocent shall suffer,” says I, feel- ing myself. ' “T am prepared to die for my convictions,” says he. “How are you fixed for a funeral?” I asks. “Got plenty left to plant your remains?” “T may not die. “And just about bust Buck’s head wide “And let the city bury him, Testament. Ever ponder on that? It’s all right to kill a man, but a killer ought to bury his dead. Now, here is the idea: You pay us five dollars per month as loffg as Buck lives and when he dies we'll give you five hundred dollars. That will give him a decent funeral.” “Tt won’t take that much, Ike.” “You preach the sermon and keep the balance.” eure I WAS afraid to slide down that pole. Saiz I looks the place over for possibilities— and found one. I decided to tread lightly ® the front and peek down at Buck, but in treading lightly over the hay I treaded over a hay-hole, but not lightly enough to keep from going hence. I grabbed both hands full of hay and then cometh flashing lights, the crashing of thunder and the smell of powder smoke. After while I seems to be coming from under the anesthet- ic and I shake all over. After while I finds out why I shake. I’m setting on Buck’s back and he’s acting restless. There’s an old. shotgun sticking out of a manger and I feel that it must have went awful high to get there. I takes out an application, writes Old Testa- ment’s name on it and then rolls Buck over and props him against the manger. “Did—did anybody gug-get out alive?” he wheezes. ‘Non e,” a pencil. and give me five dollars. collection for the victims.”’ I gets the money, and wraps it with the application. “You and Testament are about fifty-fifty,” says I. “He busted his fork-handle on my head.” “T’m gug-glad that the little birds didn’t get hurt,” says he. ‘Can’t you hear ’em sing?” I tore up my application on the way home. Magpie and Scenery are doing a lot of figuring but they stop when I comes in. says I, wrapping his fingers around “Sign your name-on the dotted line I’m taking up a I shall go softly and pray. ‘that this fork-handle faileth me not.”’ ecomicboo