Adventure Magazine Cover — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

82 plains, it don’t. Piperock is goin’ to get a look at interpretive dancin’, y’betcha. How much civic pride has you two snake- hunters got?” Me and Dirty don’t say a word, being as we don’t sabe his wau-wau. Then he hauls out a jug of pain-killer and we sets down to do homage. SHe@ AFTER all danger from drought is (aS ‘ie long time past, Magpie points out the duty of a real honest-to-grandma citizen. He orates openly that the future of a city is only as broad as the inhabitants will allow. He asks Dirty Shirt if his views are narrow. “Wide as the ocean, and beggin’ to ex- pand,” says Dirty. “T’m the widest human bein’ yuh ever seen, Magpie. Dog-gone me if-I ain’t wider than anythin’ anybody ever seen. How about you, Ike?” “T’ve got you skinned about four ways from the jack,” says I, and somehow I be- lieved it. Magpie got in between us and took Dirty’s gun away from him. “Killin’ ain’t expansion,” explains Mag- pie. “Piperock has entertained too many times in the interests of the undertaker. Piperock is so far behind the times that the seventeenth generation of Montana’s human race has started and finished and we're still runnin’ the wrong way of the track.” “Are we that far behind the rest of the world?” asks Dirty, tearful-like. ‘Further,’ assures Magpie. “Then let’s be up and doin’,” urges Dirty. “My——, I never realized that we was run- nin’ in the dust. How does we start in to speed up the old buggy?” “T,” says Magpie, “I am the little jigger who is goin’ to lead Piperock to th’ prom- ised land. I am the pelican which is goin’ to make Piperock a place of honor and glory and a social center. I has been throwed down by the best citizens, you know it? Puttin’ their personal feelin’s ahead of the best interesis of the city, they has laid down upon their labors, willin’ to let poor old Piperock slumber and waller in the dust of decay; but the womin can see what it means to the city, and they’re firm as rocks. I have got one of the best dances yuh ever seen, gents. “The ordinary poetry of motion-is the Adventitre weavin’s of a drunken Siwash with a sprained ankle beside this here dance of mine. Miss Harrison said it had anythin’ beat she ever seen.”’ “Do yuh have music for this kind of dancin’?” asks Dirty. “Well, kinda,” assures Magpie. “Frenchy Deschamps’ jew’s-harp and Bill Thatcher on his wind-pipe. Bill bought it a short time ago. Said that ever time he got a buli- fiddle busted it cost him ten dollars for a new one; so he buys him a wind-pipe. Hf anybody shoots holes in that thing he can patch it up.” “That’s a new instrument on me,” says Dirty. “That’s it,” says Magpie. ‘We're so far behind the times, Dirty, that we don’t recog- nize things that the rest of the world has beén usin’ for years.” “My——!” wails Dirty. “This is awful, Magpie. I’m grateful to yuh for callin’ my attention to same. Ain’t you grateful, Tke?” “Remains to be seen, as the feller said when he dug into a Injun grave.” _ “Tke’s grateful,” says Magpie. “Tke’s the gratefulest human bein’ on earth.” “That ain’t no ways true,” objects Dirty. “I’m the most gratefulest.” I gets between Magpie and Dirty and makes ’em put up their guns. Then we all took a last look at the inside bottom of the jug of pain-killer. Piperock appreciates art, there ain’t no question about that. There’s fellers in town for this social event that ain’t been outside their dug-outs since the big blow. Plain and fancy horse-thieves, unsuccessful rustlers, hairy old shepherds that says ‘“VYa-a-a-ss’” and “No-o-o-0,” just like a sheep, and others too numerous and or’nary to mention. Scenery Sims is setting in front of the Mint Hall with a sawed-off shotgun on his lap, but he lets us in. “How does she look, Scenery?” asks Magpie. “Well,” squeaks Scenery, “everythin’ is all right so far, but them ex-dancers is all back from Paradise. The women is all up there in the hall now. Bul Thatcher is drunker’n seven hundred dollars, and some- body has hit Frenchy in the mouth and kinda crippled his part of the orchestra. Shouldn’t be s’prized if there’d be buzzards circlin’ Piperock in the mornin’.” ‘ commiclooolkss (C@