Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

Fmerg ency Cards —- by Charles beatles en ~ ens tiett nes m < “ 4 sees Py L wrt ee ‘| taanlelt f LR yy, : ret iia WAN Mo * . Agi Be retices AUT Author of ““Tartarin of Trouble Creek.” LIM rose from his corner seat in the Puliman smoker and lurched with the lurching of the train across to the water-cooler. A massive roll of cur- vrency, loosened by the up-and-down movemert of the upholstery, slipped from his hip pocket and thudded upon the floor. “Dura it, Slim!” Old Andy Wagner’s placid face puckered into a querulows and reproving frown as he retrieved the roli amd stowed it carefully away in his inside coat pocket. “You aim’t fitten to pack a fo’-bit grubstake, much less fo’ thousan’ dollars. Ef I hadn’t ’a’ be’n right here you an’ me’d ’a’ been busted plum’ flat ag’in.”’ Slim grimned, a singularly innocent and boyish grm that spread beguilingly across his freckles. “Aw, shucks, Andy,” he replied. “I’d ’a’ missed her im a minute or two, and besides this here gentheman would ’a’ saw her an’ give her back.” The gemtleman appealed to, the only other occupamt ef the compartment, turned his broad, smeoth-shaven countenance upon the two. A smile curved his lips, but his close-set eyes remained as expressionless and inscrutable as the gray sage-brush and alkali wastes sliding past the ear window. “T don’t know about that.” His tone was bluff and hearty. ‘Four thousand dollars is four thousand dollars these days.” The speaker cast an eye over the rough out- door garments of his companions—drab cordu- roy and heavy canvas contrasting with his own well-designed, suavely cut business-attire. ‘“‘Beer selling cattle?” he asked. “Naw suh,” Andy responded. ‘Me an’ Slim here has let loose o’ one of our mines. Or ruther,” he continued with candid loquacity in keeping with his guileless, elderly countenance, “she was more of a claim than a mine. “Me an’ Slim had us two claims—three. oncet—over thar in the Telluriums.” He jerked a thumb toward the distant mountains, lying like a haze upon the desert’s rim. “They was durn good claims, too, but our grubstake run out on us before we could open *em up, an’ we had to sell one to raise capital. Fo’ thousan’ dollars, !” He spat con- temptuously. “She was wuth nigher fawty, but fo’ was all we could git. We kep’ the best ’un though, the Florydory, an’ we’re all set to run her now. Ef things work out like they’d ort to, me an’ Slim’ll come pilin’ out’n them mountains a couple o’ millionaires in a year or so.” Slim lurched back from the water-cooler and subsided again into his seat, his youthful freckles still wreathed in the boyish grin. “An’ then us fer Honylulu,” he said. ‘An’ nothin’ to do fer the rest of our lives but set under the pa’m-trees an’ drink coconut-liquor and watch the huly-girls dance.” “Durn fool kid.” Andy expansively took the stranger into his confidence. “Over thar in Cheyenne whar we sold that claim they had one o’ these here Hay-wie-yan shows, an’ Slim’s been blame nigh crazy about hit ever since. Got his grip ha’f full o’ Hay- wie-yan littertoor right now.” The stranger produced a card and extended it to Andy. 118 EOPNICLOO© (F@)