Adventure Magazine Cover — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

The Heart of the Range “But——” “Aw, shut up, you —— skunk! You come out to Moccasin Spring on purpose to get me to come to Farewellan’ be peace- ably shot by Doc Coffin an’ his gang. Can’t tell me you didn’t. I know better.” “T didn’t! I didn’t! I——’ ““Aw right, you didn’t. In that case you got nothin’ to scare yuh. If Doc an’ his outfit ain’t got no harsh thoughts against me they won’t shoot when we run up on ’em. That’ll prove yo’re tellin’ the truth, an’ I'll beg your pardon. Racey’s assurance that he would do the right thing if his suspicions proved un- founded did not appear to cheer Rack — Slimson. “T— Lookit here,” he began desper- ately, “‘can’t we fix this here up some way? I dunno as——” “Shore we can fix it up,” interposed Racey heartily. ‘Go after yore gun any time you feel like it. I been lettin’ you keep it on purpose.” Rack Slimson did not accept the invita- tion. He had not the slightest desire to go after his gun. He was not fast enough, and he knew it. “Tt ain’t necessary to do that,”’ said he. “Suit yoreself,”” Racey told him calmly. “Hop into action any time you feel like it. Of course before we get to that draw out- side Farewell where we’re gonna leave our hosses I’ll have to take yore gun away. Later I might be too busy to do it an’ I can’t afford to take every chance. Not with four or five men. You can see that yoreself.” Rack Slimson saw. He saw other things, too. Oh, there was no warmth in the sun- light, and the sky was a drabby gray, and he was filled with bitterness unutterable. “We'll be at the draw some time soon,” suggested Racey ten minutes later. But Rack Slimson’s hands continued to remain in plain sight, the while Rack gnawed a thin and bloodless lip. When at last the draw opened before them Racey calmly reached over and re- moved the saloon-keeper’s _ six-shooter. After satisfying himself that the weapon was fully loaded he stuffed it down inside the waistband of his trousers. Then he but- toned the two lower buttons of his vest and pulled the garment in question over the protruding butt. ‘« For a space of time they rede the bot- Pll do more’n beg yore - ' pardon. I'll eat yore shirt an’ my saddle.” 69 tom of the draw. Where.a few heavy wil- lows grew about a tiny spring Racey pulled in. “We'll leave the cayuses here,’’ said he. “We're right close in back of Marie’s shack.” They dismounted, tied the horses to sepa- rate willows and climbed the side of the draw. “No hurry,” cautioned Racey, for Rack Slimson was showing signs of a nervous haste. ‘Besides I wanna pat you all over for a hideout.” Behind the blind end of Marie’s shack Rack Slimson submitted to being searched for concealed weapons. Racey found none, not even a pocket-knife. “Let’s go,” said Racey Dawson. “We'l] go to yore saloon first. _An’ you pray hard | that nobody sees us from the back window.” | They diagonaled down past the stage company’s corral to the house next door to’ the Starlight. “They haven’t seen us yet,” Racey ob-. served cheerfully to Rack Slimson, whose wretched knees had been knocking together ever since he had dismounted. ‘Slide over this way a li’l more, Rack. Now take off yore spurs.” Racey stooped and removed his own. And not for an instant did he lose the magic of the drop. As a matter of fact he had kept Rack covered from the moment Rack set his boot-soles to earth. Rack’s spurs jingled on the ground. Racey let them lie. His own spurs he jammed each into a hip pocket. “T’ll have to be careful how I sit down now,” he remarked jocularly to Rack Slim- son. ‘‘You ready? Aw right. You know the way to the Starlight’s back door.” The back door of the saloon was wide open. They entered on tiptoe, the proprie- tor in the lead. “Remember,” whispered Racey, when he discovered the back room to be empty, “remember, I’m right behind yuh. Keep on yore toes.” %<i belt and pushed him toward the ==! door giving into the front room. This door was shut. They paused behind it. “He oughta be along pretty soon,” com- plained a fretful voice that Racey recog- nized as belonging to Honey Hoke. HE HELD Rack Slimson by the | “We don’t mind waitin’,”’ chimed in Punch-the-breeze’ Thompson. COMIC OOO KSaCO© in