Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

The Silent Captain Indian tribe sent old Chief Amaho, who found the liquid refreshments early and stayed there. The town editor was also present, saying witty things, but getting away withit. Old Jed Halloway came down from the Nampa hills with his fiddle while José Gomez with his guitar and Chico Salazar with his mandolin helped to make the rafters tingle with their thumping music. It was a ramping, stamping dance. The lamps flickered constantly with concussions from booted feet. Couples fairly crammed the floor. Those who didi’t dance herded around the front door or swapped yarns in the kitchen or sampled various brands of red-eye from hospitable buckboards or spring wagons. Grant Wilcox mingled with the aristo- crats in a big room just off the main parlor, where the other ranch owners flocked. Each paladin of the range wore his store clothes, so nobody was quite comfortable and the talk was rather forced. The voung fellows also wore their civilian regalia, but under every coat was the butt of agun. Men who might have left them home decided to wear weapons when they thought of general con- ditions on the range. It was a jolly, care- free party—but the men wore their six- shooters. Wilcox advised Steve Adams not to go. “T do not like the look of things,” he grunted. “Stay away.” “T can’t,’ demurred Steve. ‘‘Daphne— my girl—is coming with her folks. It wouldn’t be right not to show up.” “No,” agreed the boss, drily. “You couldn’t stand it.”’ | It was a proud Steve Adams who led his girl into the great crowd. She was a gasp. Pretty, coquettish, graceful and dressed with some regard for style, she captured the meeting from the start. It was almost a stampede. Poor Steve had to fight for every favor he got. : But if Daphne was a gasp, Gennerveeve was a scream. Clad in a home-made green gown with yellow trimmings, she arrived on horseback with her lanky father and brother, took off her spurs, and was soon pounding the floor with the best of them. Grant Wilcox was amazed at her vigor. There were comments about Wilcox, too. The town paper had done its work. People looked at him curiously. The wife of the postmaster voiced the general impression: “So that’s the drunkard. H’m. I don’t 3! see why folks make so much talk about him. Why, he looks runty!” . | Wilcox didn’t hear it. He was watching Jake Curry and certain other persons. Curry now owned thirty-five hundred cattle, an astonishing increase to his herd. Wilcox remembered the remark of an old. puncher when the total was announced: “Tf Curry keeps up that lick he’ll own the range in three years. Then he'll be rich enough to turn respectable.” Wilcox saw Curry in a new light. The lean-jawed gunman with the cold eyes was no thoughtless adventurer making trouble for pure deviltry. He was a schemer, eaten by ambition and not to be halted short of death. He was a master, a driver, an executive, a leader of men. His tight mouth, aquiline nose and merciless eyes proved it. Wilcox noticed Curry make a slight motion of his head to certain men loafing near the door. The men separated as if by signal. They edged toward Steve Adams, who was backing away after talking with a woman. Some of them got behind him. One of them faced him and touched his shoulder. It was Tonio Lopez. - WILCOX started forward, but too eo He had to cross the whole MGLD yO0m. Lopez made some remarks to Steve, smiling as he talked. Steve’s face turned savage. He swung his fist to strike but his hands were pinioned from behind. ‘You lie!’ choked Steve, struggling with his captors. “Cool down!” advised one of the men holding him. But Steve writhed and twisted wrath- fully. His eyes were lambent flames. The smiling Tonio Lopez had _ deliberately stepped up to Steve and uttered a vulgar history of Steve’s girl which no man on earth could brook. Lopez had never seen the girl before. He invented it on the spur of the moment. It was sufficient. “Let me at him!” cried Steve. at him!’’ “Shut up!” hissed one of those holding him. ‘‘Want to bust up the dance?” “Leggo!” panted Steve. ‘“‘But it may be true,” insisted the sneer- ing Tonio Lopez, whose arms were also pinioned by his friends for effect. “Lemme cComiclbool Cc C@