Adventure Magazine Cover — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

Ajax, for Example AJAX pointed almost due south, but we figured he’d bear a little to the west, so we cut across. We're pilgriming down into a draw at the head of a little fork of Medicine Creek when all to once we busts into a clearing, and Magpie stops. I bumped into him, and then looked over his shoulder. There is ‘“‘Doleful’’ Doolittle, who herds sheep when he’s sober enough, and standing in front of him is Ajax. Them hombres sure show signs of rough usage. Ajax’s hat is smashed down over his nose, and he’s looking out from between the crown and the brim. His coat is split up the back, and his long legs wabble a heap. Doleful has lost one sleeve and his belt, the same of which causes him to hang on to his pants, so they won’t come down and trip him. If Doleful had twice as much sense he’d be almost half-witted. “Hear me?” yelps Doleful, shaking his one free hand at Ajax. ‘I’m tellin’ you hereby that I’m aimin’ to show you, feller!”’ ‘Very ungrammatical, to say the least,” pants Ajax. ‘Now I wish you to desist. Fisticuffs are a relic of i “T sabe,’ says Doleful, spitting on his hands. “Set yourself, feller, ’cause I’m coming wide open like a wolf!” Booft Doleful takes a skip and a jump and lands on Ajax’s bosom, and they both went into the alkali. It was some fight. They’re both yelling for help in about ten seconds, and then they gets to their feet. « “You long-faced son-of-a-sea-cook, you bited me!”’ howls Doleful, rubbing his ear. “T was—uh—but fighting the dud-devil with fuf-fire,’’ wheezes Ajax. ‘“‘You masti- cated my e-ear, friend.” “Friend?” yells Doleful. ‘Don’t you call me friend! I hate out of you, by gin- ger! Hold fast, ’cause I’m coming to visit you again!” Ajax sidestepped this time, and when Doleful stumbled over his legs Ajax fell on top of him. Man, they sure investigated each other. Doleful kicked, whooped and yelped and managed to squirm loose, minus one boot, which Ajax has annexed. For a minute Ajax seems to show human intelligence by hammering Doleful over the head with the boot. Doleful wails loud and clear and hops away a few feet, where he takes off the other boot and comes back at Ajax. 139 “God didn’t make men equal but boots did,’ says Magpie, and then them two are at it again. It was some duel if you asks me, and be- fore they’re at it a minute me and Magpie are weeping on each other’s bosom. They never seen us. In fact they hadn’t been at it a minute until they couldn’t see each other. Pretty soon Doleful makes a wild swing, and the heel of that boot hit Ajax at the butt of his ear. That was plenty for Ajax, who sprawls on his face in the dirt, but Doleful didn’t know it. He kept right on, hopping back and forth, whaling away with that boot at something that ain’t there.: “‘Look at the danged fool!’’ gasps Magpie. “He can’t see!” Just then Doleful makes an extra hard swing, his foot slipped, and the toe of that boot hit him under the chin. He straightens up, shrugs his shoulders hike a Frenchman and then falls flat on his back—knocked out, or rather kicked out. “Honest to , that never happened,” sobs Magpie. ‘“‘Aw, it couldn’t! He hit himself in the— Haw, haw, haw!’ I haw-haws with him, and we cries a duet. Pretty soon Doleful gets to his feet, walks around in a circle and appears to be listen- ing. Then Ajax coughs and sets up. “T’ve had a gosh-darn plenty,” states Doleful in a whisper. ‘‘Hear me?” “I’m sorry,” says Ajax. “You danged hog!” wails Doleful. “I know when I’ve hada plenty. Where is my boots?” Ajax feels of his ear like he half-expected to find the boot in there, but when he don’t find it he shakes his head. “T don’t know, I’m sure.” “T’m going,” states Doleful. ‘My gosh, it’s dark today! I can just see enough to miss hittin’ trees, and that’s about all. Where are you?” “T fear I’m not able to give you concise information on the subject,” says Ajax painful-like, “because I am not aware of my exact position. If it will enlighten you to any extent I will say this much; I am on the ground.” “Then you stay there,” advises Doleful. “If I step on you don’t get sore, ’cause I don’t mean nothing but good-by. Sabe?”’ Doleful stumbles across Ajax’s feet and goes weaving off through the mesquite, hanging on to his pants and picking up COmMicloooks C C@