Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

56 his back, and thus held him a prisoner with his back to the enemy. Natchez still had his guns, but with his arms drawn far back he could only fire from the hip, and as he still faced the street there was nothing for him to fire at unless it be some of the spec- tators. Standing between him and _ the four newcomers, Kitts held his gun ready and called out: “Show yourself, Oakes. If any of your friends chip into this game again I'll drill you and them.” “They didn’t shoot to hurt,” growled Oakes, crawling from under the counter and resuming his chair. ‘The cub’s plugged two of my friends already. Told me I cheated! his eyes, Kitts, Pll have his blood for that.” “There must be no more shooting here tonight. Auraria already is hoping we’ve killed each other off.” “Let me go! Ill kill him!” furiously cried Natchez. “Shut up, you fool,” growled Kitts. “You’ve done enough mischief. Another word from you and out of the camp you go for good. And about two words will bring something more serious to you. You young idiot, you soak up Taos lightning, then come in here and after losing a few bets accuse this man of running a crooked game. We want no more of it.” “T saw him shift the cards Se A harsh laugh from Kitts and a roar of derision from the onlookers smothered the rest. “You poor simpleton,” mercilessly con- tinued Kitts, “do you suppose there is any man alive who can see him shift the cards when he really wants to shift them?” Even the gambler relaxed into a grim smile at this compliment. “Let the young man take his gold and get out, Parson. He isn’t used to our style,” 9 said Oakes. Then to the crowd: “What say, boys? Game level, or crooked?” “It’s as level as faro can be level,” grunted Durgin. A chorus of similar sentiment followed this endorsement. Kitts released Natchez, who thrust his guns into his belt and stalked toward the street. “You've forgotten your money,” Oakes called after him, throwing some gold on the counter. Adventure Natchez swung about on his heel, and for a second the spectators believed he was going after his guns again. Instead he quietly directed: “Split it between those two tools of yours. It’ll pay for patching them up.”’ This unique distribution of wealth caused the crowd to veer about in their sympathy and to cheer loudly. Evidently Parson Kitts found humor in it; for he thrust out his hand to Natchez and said: “Tt’s all right, younker. You made something of a mistake, but you’ve done much to patchit up. Oakes runs a straight game or he’d been hung before this. Let’s licker up and forget it.” With a hearty huzza of approval the men turned and made for the _ liquor-shed. Oakes reloaded his weapons with great care. The Indian mumbled in his native tongue and continued notching his stick. Natchez walked beside Kitts behind the group. “Who were the four who came through the side of the shack?” he asked. “Oakes’ backers. Hires them to be on deck if the Auraria crowd comes over and acts rough. Tough chaps, but not really bad. Stay over at Hell-on-Wheels.”’ “One calls himself Red Shirley, doesn’t he?” “Possibly. It isn’t polite to ask a man just what he does call himself. He usually tells it without being asked. What about him?” “Oh, nothing.” Natchez, while recognizing Shirley, did not believe the former wagon-boss had recog- nized him. When the four came through the brush wall Natchez dropped to the ground, and when he regained his feet it was only to have Kitts whirl him around, back to the gambler’s body-guard. His first thought was to acquaint Kitts with the theft from the wagon-train, but second thought decided him to wait and let Laramie Pete take action. His im- pulses already had got him into serious trouble, and but for Kitts’ intervention he believed he would have been killed. ‘You knew one of them as Red Shirley?” asked Kitts. “T knew a man once by that name. One of the four looked like him. I'll pass up this round, I reckon, and be starting back to the train.” “Tt might be wise,” Kitts dryly approved. COMmMiCcloookKs (C@)