Adventure Magazine Cover — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

Ajax, for Example swan. Maybe not so graceful, but longer. His shoulders shows a heap of neglect, and from there he just sort of slopes off to his feet, which is some slope, if you asks me. Riding with his elbows has made his sleeves pull up almost to his shoulders, and hanging on with his knees has pulled up the legs of his pants until he’s setting on most of em. Heain’t anything for a drinking man to look at—if he likes the taste of liquor. Me and Magpie stands there sort of weak- like and watches him search his pockets. He ain’t said a word yet. The more pockets he searches the less he seems to find. He grunts and reaches for his hip pocket, the same of which seems to bend his legs back- wards until his heels catch in that bronc’s flanks. Zowrel That rat-tailed bronc resents such famili- arity, with the result that said apparition lands setting down in our front yard while the insulted bronc wends its way home. I plumb forgot to mention that this per- son carried a little valise on the saddle-horn. Yes, it came off with him. He sets there on the chip-pile blinking like a old owl, and then he produces an envelope from his hip pocket. Then he adjusts his specs and peers up at us. “TI beg your pardon,” says he. “Vou have it,” says Magpie. “You won’t catch that bronc this side of Piperock,”’ says I. ‘“He’s still throwing sand.”’ “Ah! Oh, the—er—equine? avoidable, I assure you.”’ ‘Setting as you were,” admits Magpie. “Good scheme to always watch a bronc’s ears, old-timer.” “Pleasant pastime, I have no doubt,” he agrees. ‘‘Oh, quite interesting. May I ask if either of you gentlemen is Mr. Simpson?” “Little high and to the right,” says Mag- pie. “I’m Simpkins.”’ ‘“‘Ah, yes! Delighted, I assure you. My mistake.” He peers at the letter. “Very good indeed. Simpkins it is. I beg your pardon.” “You're going to get splinters in you if you don’t get up,” states Magpie. “Thank you very, very much,” handing the letter to Magpie. “This is my—er—introductions, Simpson.” ‘‘S-i-m-p-k-i-n-s,”’ spells Magpie. Ah! Un- 9) says he, Mr. 135 “‘Ah, yes. Very simple.” “Ves,” says I. “Very.” Magpie opens the letter, and I reads it over his shoulder.. My DEaRr SIMPKINS: The bearer, Professor Ajax Ulysses Green, B.A., F.H.S., K.P., I1.0.0.F., B.P.O.E., etc., etc., is desir- ous of testing out some pet theory, and I am taking the liberty of sending him to you, knowing that you and Ike will see that he gets what is coming to him. Do with him as you will—and I know you will. Professor Pettingill joins me in sending you our best regards and hopes some day to see you again. Remember us to Dirty Shirt Jones, and all the rest of the Pelicans we met in the county of Yellow Rock. Very sincerely yours, H. MIDDLETON. . P. S.—As Dirty Shirt says, “For ’s sake, did you ever see the like?” He really is considered a brilliant man, and devoted to his work. Doas you see fit—but spare him, as Pettingill and myself will not rest well until he returns to Boston and tells of his experiences. ‘Professor Middleton is one of my dear, dear friends,”’ explains this alphabetical per- son sweet-like. “He was primarily respon- sible for my coming. You may thank him.” “My ! gasps Magpie. “I may, may I? Well, well! Come in, Ajax.” ‘“‘T prefer to be known as Professor Green, if it is not too much trouble.” says he stiff- like, but Magpie grins and says: “Pm Magpie; this is Ike. You're Ajax. Sabe?”’ ‘“‘Rather—er—personal, don’t you think?”’ “How'd you like Ulysses?”’ I asks. “No. If I have no choice in the matter I’d prefer Ajax.” “Tf I had my choice of weapons I’d take a pickax,”’ grins Magpie. ‘‘Are-you the hombre what discovered lightning?” “Oh, no! The original Ajax defied the lightning, don’t you know.” . ‘“‘He made a sucker play,” says I. be he didn’t sabe electricity.” Ajax refused to smoke a cigaret, so we gave him an old pipe that ‘“Polecat” Per- kins left in our shack, but he didn’t seem to care for it. “Now,” says Magpie, ‘“‘we’d admire to hear what you came here for.”’ “May- eS) AJAX crosses his legs, adjusts his neg Y) glasses and clears his throat. It’s cy some job to clear a throat like his. The best way, I reckon, would be to drop in a can of nitroglycerin like they do in oil- wells. “T am here,” says he, rubbing his hands MICLOO© S (C@