Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

The Silent Captain ‘““What reason?” “T do not know.” ‘“‘Heh. You think mebbe they’s a corn- spiracy amongst these fellers. ’T’ain’t pos- sible. They’re all out for theirselves. They don’t meet. Some of ’em hate each other. They jest happened here. Birds of a feather flock together. It jest hap- pened.” The boss shook his head, unconvinced. ‘There is something behind it all. I smell it.”” And he went inside and closed the interview. Next day he went in a buckboard to town. His financial position worried him. for the old cattle king had left plenty of land and cattle but only a few dollars. In town Wilcox sought one Levi Fischer, a merchant who sometimes made _ loans. There was no bank in the vicinity. Wilcox had fifteen hundred dollars nl wanted to make sure of future pay-rolls. The money-lender made a great show of reluctance, but tried to get his claws on the ranch. Grant Wilcox went out of the door. Some canny caution from his Scotch ancestors forbade the deal. The money- lender was too covetous. Wilcox decided to fight his battle alone. He realized his fifteen hundred dollars “was small capital. He owned that George Minden was right and he ought to sell out. He saw that he had worse conditions to battle against than the average cattleman. He observed further that the cattle business in Arizona was risky. One year of drought thinned the range. Two years meant ruin. That was the history of Arizona. Seeing all these things and admitting them, the stocky stranger from the cities clamped his jaw. He had accepted the ranch. He never turned back. It was his only superstition. Buying a box of awful cigars at a little store, he noticed his name on the back page of the town’s newspaper on the counter. He inspected it closer: “Cramp Wilcoz, heir to the eState of the late eaGLE Wilxox, arrived suring the week to take oWer the magagement of the grEat Triangle W ranh in the keTTle hills. He is the ne#hew of James Willbox and comes from Sna Francisco. We Wish the new raNCH oWner every su) )ess and confadently looK to see his name on the growIng subscrptn list of the Weldon AVANCE.” Wilcox took the hint. He went to a whitewashed building with cobwebs in the 13 windows and was sonn in an office littered with papers, chairs, desks, spindles, proofs, type-racks, and tobacco-ashes. A SPRINGY little man with a truculent sandy beard came through a rear doorway. Over his eyes was a shade. Over his middle was a dirty apron smeared with ink. Over the apron swung a cartridge belt with a six-shooter hanging pendant in a holster. He snapped out three words:— ‘Subscribe or fight?” Wilcox looked at this unusual journalist curiously. “T don’t know. What am I supposed to say?” “Oh. Thought you were someone that wants to lick the editor. There’s lots of 7em. I have to be careful.” The editor shoved a hand forward. ‘Glad to meet you. My name’s Potts. What’s yours?” “Grant Wilcox.” The editor pumped his hand warmly. “Glad. Glad. Glad to meet you. Hope you'll become one of the decent citizens among us. Town needs ’em. Worse all the time. Here!’’ He picked up a paper. “Read this. Shows conditions. Gives ’em both barrels. I’ve waked ’em up. Madea big stir. The criminal element’s all excited.” “YT would think you’d be nervous,” re- marked Wilcox. “No. Never. I’m in the right. ‘Thrice armed is he whose cause is just.’ I’m thrice armed. That’s me. I don’t back down for any of ’em. They know it. Used to be tough myself. Before I re- formed. They called me a gun-fighter. AllI want isaneven break. Read the paper.” Grant Wilcox read it: EDITORIAL. Our dign)ty and_our $ense of sMell were insulted during the week by another lOathsOme two-legged rePtile who blew int™% our office fliurishing a large siz-shooter and bawled threats of murDER and Mayhem until* our compositoR ran him out with a GUn. We are caPible of defendIng ourself. We havE proved it to the SaTisgaftion of depraVed and BRUTal miscreants who have de$ecraTed the sanctity of our oF FFice but the oDds are becming CITIxens, AWAke! The ranges are infezted with viciOVs SCUM who thimk their DastarDLY carcases are aBOVe the law and immune from it. In the LAst year, de- PRAYved charact&rs have held their Sneering swaY. vice, corIption, theivery and muRder are Ram pant. Degraded SCOUN/rels walk our COmichooOoks.COn