Adventure Magazine Cover — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

Silver Zone to pass away the time. He was not without qualms that he might possibly run across somebody who knew him, but he felt that was entirely unlikely. Still, he did not venture far into the saloon until he satisfied himself there was no one there who knew him. Then he went in and looked around for something of interest. He dared not waste any-of his precious dollars, so he ‘stayed away from the bar. Most of the patrons were dull, common- place fellows whom he felt it was not worth his while to cultivate. They, in their turn, sized him up with mild interest, then re- - turned to their usual amusements. There ‘was a set, determined look on his face which declared plainly that he was neither “a live wire” in the saloon sense, or an “easy mark.” There were, however, three men playing poker at a table who were too deeply im- . mersed in the game to pay any attention to new arrivals. They were obviously of a decidedly different cast to the rest of the men in the crowd. Dal catalogued two of them at once as cowboys of a capable, but rather unprepossessing type. The third man was dressed much the same, with the same kind of chaps and spurs, but there was a vague, almost intangible difference ‘somewhere which marked him as a sheep- man—probably a well-paid foreman. The interest the bystanders manifested in the game told Dal that it must be rather wild. He moved close to the table and stood just behind one of the cowboys. ‘The sheepman, he saw, was carrying a heavy cargo of red whisky; but he was still in possession of all his faculties. In fact he ap! peared to be at the moment unusually alert. Suddenly a quarrel developed, and the sheepman called one of the cowboys a liar over a disputed play. The cowboy’s hand sank toward his holster in a flash, but it, came up empty as the sheepman’ Ss gun leaped on to the table in line with the top button on his vest. “Don’t think that because you’re cow- punchers you’ve got the monopoly on all - the gun throwih’ in the country,” the sheepman remarked coolly. The other .cowboy dropped his hand stealthily, drew his gun beneath the level of the table, reached around the end of the table and pointed it at the sheepman from an angle. With a little less whisky the sheepman would have observed the act, but as it was he was too intent upon his little lecture to the other cowboy to watch — both of them. Dal’s hand shot out and seized the cowboy’s hand, bending - it slightly downward just as he pulled the — trigger. The bullet tore a hole in the floor and instantly all was confusion. ; Dal wrested the gun out of the man’s hand, and held him firmly to his chair while _ the fellow cursed. He was small, but in his. rat-like face were all the signs ‘of a cold- blooded killer. — The sheepman stood up, *and though he © weaved about unsteadily on his feet, the — hand that held the gun did not falter. With the other hand he motioned to the crowd to stay back. ‘Who the —— are you to come basttig? into this business?”’ the small cowboy de-- - manded of Dal. aa “He’s the fellow that brought in them = coyote ears from Silver Zone,” some one volunteered. Dal saw that it was the clock who had — waited upon him in Tom Cutler’s store, — = e: and who had watched him the — necessary affidavit swearing where he had killed the animals. Dal noted that both — cowboys greeted this announcement with a strange interest. his feet. “You're that Silver Zone*skunk, are. “Then listen to me—~ if you ever go back there you’re goin’ fo o ye?” he demanded. collect more lead than you can pack away.” “Shut up,’ the smaller man_ hissed. “Let him’ come back there. pleasure of killin’ him. No —— sheep-. herder like him can put anything over on Nevada Brown the second time.’’ “Bein’ as you hold them sentiments, pardner, I reckon I'll just confiscate that gun of yourn—an’ the belt,” Dal drawled. Before the vituperative little cowboy — sensed what he was going to do Dal had dextrously unbuckled the belt and ad it around his own body. “Here; you can't io that! I ain't goin’ to stand here an’ see any gran’ larceny pulled off that way,” a voice boomed, and — Dal saw a huge, sallow faced man elbowing . his way through the crowd. The star on his breast revealed that he a was the town marshal. “He made threats. I claim the ‘Tight a = to protect mtyself,” Dal argaee call ao The larger cowboy ‘arose and hunched forward on the balls of | I want the 2 << Comicbooks.