Adventure Magazine Cover — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

158 of his pockets,” said Jean. ‘Perhaps it fell out.” “Uh-huh, I reckon it did,” smiled Brick. He turned.to Martin and patted him on the shoulder. A smile seemed to come to Martin’s eyes, and Brick turned away. “Keep this dark, will yuh?” asked Brick of Mrs. Wesson. “You folks can talk to him, but don’t let anybody Brick had turned toward the open door and saw Kane and the one called Jack Smith standing in the doorway. Kane nodded and spoke to Jean. ““How’s the sick man?”’ he asked. “About the same, Mr. Kane,” said Jean. “‘Shucks, that’s too bad.’’ Kane seemed downhearted and his voice was sympathetic. Smith tried to appear indifferent to Brick’s presence by half-turning his back. Brick watched the two men closely. It is hard to ignore a person under these circum- stances, but Smith and Kane succeeded ad- mirably. Brick looked back at Martin, who was slightly propped up on his pillow, and waved good-by. He turned to Jean. “T reckon I'll be driftin’, folks. Got a sheep deal to look into.” Jean made no move to follow him, ap- pearing indifferent as to whether he stayed or went. Mrs. Wesson watched Brick from the doorway, with a smile, and then shook her head as if to say, “I’m with you, Back, Brick rode straight into the Piney Creek hills, heading for the sheep-camp; but he was not thinking about sheep. The face of Jack Smith troubled him. Was it just a chance resemblance to some one he had known? BRICK had been born and raised "lin the range country, where there MEN is small chance of meeting a man withont at least a short acquaintance. Brick couldn’t remember any one who looked like Jack Smith.’ Very few Mexican or Spanish cow-punchers ever get to the Northern ranges, and Brick knew he was not confusing Smith’s likeness with any other dark-skinned cowboy he had known. Still, Smith’s face was familiar. Brick was satisfied that Scott Martin was not branding the calf when he was shot. He felt sure that Martin had been shot from his horse while traveling on the road, and that the would-be murderers had framed the rest of the evidence. It looked Adventure as though their idea had been to fasten the crime to Brick, but Brick felt that there was more to it than merely trying to get rid of the sheriff. They had, no doubt, believed that Martin was dead, or they would have finished the job. “Somebody,” muttered Brick aloud, “Somebody is goin’ to lose a lot of sleep pretty soon, and it ain’t goin’ to be me.” He had no trouble in finding the sheep- camp. The herders had moved into a small cabin at the mouth of a small cafion. As Brick rode up to the door of the cabin, the two herders came out. Brick noted that there were no sheep- dogs in evidence, which proved that it was not a well-organized outfit. The men were a hard-looking pair; unshaven and un- washed. Brick mentally classed them as “range-thugs,” rather than regular sheep- herders. There was neither surprize nor friendliness in their faces. “Whatcha want?” growled the larger of the two. “Whatcha got?” grinned Brick. The big man growled something deep i in his throat. Brick glanced around. ‘‘Sheriff?”’ asked the smaller man. Brick nodded. “Uh-huh. Thought I’d see yuh before the cattlemen did.” ‘Whatcha want?” growled the big man again. ‘‘How many sheep yuh got?” asked Brick. “Couple hundred.” ‘“Won’t take yuh long to round ’em up and drift back where yuh came from, will ity” “We've got a right here,’’ whined the small man. ‘‘You’re the sheriff and you’ve got to see that we git a square deal.” Brick grinned. “Who told yuh that?” The two men exchanged glances. The big one shrugged his shoulders and spat copiously. “Anybody knows that, sheriff.” The small one began to tirade against the injustice of the range country, but Brick was not listening. Hanging on a nail, driven into one of the corner logs of the cabin, hung two horseshoes—two worn horseshoes, made without toe-calks. The smaller man broke off his discourse and followed Brick’s gaze. “Herd sheep on_horse-back?” asked Brick. GOMIIGoOO S (© iin