Adventure Magazine Cover — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

Too Much Progress for Piperock “T think so too,” nods Magpie. ‘They sure do dance wild around here.” “Often?” “Every time we can find somebody what can call a quadrille. Round dances don’t go yery good, ‘cause there’s always some woman accusin’ her husband of maggin: some other man’s wife——” “T don’t mean civilized dances.” “Neither do I,” agrees Magpie. Ne THEN cometh “Muley” Bowles, 4) “Chuck” Warner, “Telescope” Tol- . liver and Henry Peck, thefour dis- graces of the Cross J outfit. Muley, the poet, is too fat to work. Telescope, the tall thin tenor, is too proud to work. Chuck Warner wiggles his flexible ears, lies fluently to every one, and proves an alibi every time “Jay Bird” Whittaker, his boss, tries to roake him work. Henry Peck has kind of a dumb way of going through life, and plays a banjo. They sees us and don’t lose no time get- ting off their broncs and investigating. Muley takes a look at Henrietta and swallers realhard. Telescope stumbles over Chuck’s foot and almost falls into her. “Will you introduce me?” asks Henrietta. “Well’m,” says Magpie, “Miss Harrison, I makes yuh used to Muley, Telescope, Chuck ’n’ Hen. . They’re jist common or ordinary cow-punchers. Cowboys, meet Miss Harrison, a artist.” “T’ meetcha,” says Telescope. “Mr. Simpkins misinformed yuh, ma’am. My name is Tolliver—one of the Kentucky Tollivers, ma’am.” “Oh!” says she. “T’m named Bowles,” wheezes Muley. “One of the Oklahoma Bowles.” “His paw was a famous man,” says Chuck. “He’d ’a’ been greater, but the posse roped him just short of the State line. I’m named Warner—a name made great by some doctor who built a patent medi- cine. Pleased to meetcha.” “Speak up for yourself, Hen,” urges Mag- pie. “Tell the lady about yourself.” “T’m named Peck,” says Hen. “TI can’t think of any smart thing to say today.” “TI am Miss Harrison. For a reason,” says she, “I am incognito.” “My ——!” gasps Telescope. “Is that so? I used to know a family of that name. They was Eyetalians—or Mexicans. Good family though.” 75 “IT detest a nom de phume,” smiling. “Me, too,” agrees Muley. “I never had one, but the looks of one was a plenty for me.’ “The lady can’t find a place to live,” says Magpie. “Nobody is willin’ to sleep her.” They lets this soak in, and then Tele- scope says— “What’s the matter with here” “Nobody got any room.’ “My trunks will be here tomorrow,’ says she. “Female drummer?” asks Hen. “TI?” says the lady, kinda dignified-like. “T am an arteest.” “Oh—yeah. Kinda like what, ma’am? Do yuh paint?” “T dance.” “By cripes!” grunts Muley. a dance.” “TI—I am an interpretive dancer,” explains. “Oh, yeah,” nods Telescope. “I see.” “You’re a kindly liar,” says Chuck, “‘be- cause you don’t see nothin’. Ma’am, I’m plumb ignorant of the word you used.” “Why—I—er—do nature dances, don’t you know?” “Nature? Oh, yeah.” “Oh, yeah,” mimics Hen. like Telescope did, Chuck.” ““{—er—teally, I do not believe I can ex- plain it to you,” says she. “Unless you have seen one done, it is difficult for the lay mind to grasp “‘That’s a word I’ve been tryin’ to get for years,’ says Magpie. “Every time I’ve looked at this Cross J bunch I’ve tried to think of a word to describe their mentality. I thanks yuh for the word ‘lay mind,’ ma’am. Them four snake-hunters sure have that kinda minds.”’ “Tt ain’t the hoochie—” begins Hen. “It ain’t!” yelps Telescope. “The lady never said nothin’ about muscles. Henry, your horns are gettin’ too long.” “Clip ’em, cowboy,” challenges Hen. “Start clippin’ and see which one of us gets dehorned first. You’ve got a pretty fair spread yourself. If the lady don’t do that kinda dances it’s her lookout, ain’t it? Yuh don’t need to whoop about it. I noticed yuh down at Silver Bend at the circus “Now have a little sense,” advises Mag- says she, “We'll give she “You see just pie. ‘You pelicans are too danged anxious to show off before the lady. You fellers COMiclsOOkKS (C@