Adventure Magazine Cover — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

7 ~. 16 The bunch of men were no longer in front of the store. As Brick and his two companions went up the narrow sidewalk a tall cowboy came across from the Dollar Down, heading for the store. ‘“That’s Topaz Tyler,” said Harp. “Walks like he had club feet.” “That’s how Brick’s goin’ to walk if he don’t wear proper boots,” declated Silent seriously; but Brick was studying Topaz Tyler and did not resent Silent’s implication. There was no question but what Topaz was wearing tight boots—not only tight, but also expensive. In fact, his whole make-up bespoke the dandy. Light-blue silk shirt, lavender muffler, trousers with a diagonal stripe and the finest of black calf- skin boots, with the softest of tops. His hat was of the “five-gallon” Southwest type, surmounted with a snakeskin band. In his hand he carried a pair of gray gauntlet gloves, beaded and fringed. He merely glanced at the three cowboys as he passed and went into the store. “Smokin’ one of them Turk cigarets!”’ grunted Silent, wrinkling his long nose. “Tockey Club per-fume and burnin’ camel- hair. Waugh! Id kiss him if he didn’t smoke.” “Where'd he get the nickname, Harp?” asked Brick. “Wears ’em,” grinned Harp. ‘Look at his vest-buttons, Brick. All topazes. Wears a big one on a rosette to hold his muffler, and he’s got two or three on his fingers. Kinda nutty, I reckon. Feller told me that Tyler found a smoky topaz as big as a goose-egg and had a jeweler cut it up for him.” Brick nodded and turned into the store. Silent and Harp followed on his heels. There were several men in the store. Le Blanc the blacksmith, Cale Wesson the storekeeper, King Cleeve, Lynn Barnhardt of the Lazy H, Lowdermilk, who bought stock for the Eastern markets, and’ Topaz Tyler. Topaz turned from purchasing a package of tobacco and glanced at Brick and his companions. He glanced at Harp Harris, but turned and began to roll a cigaret. None of the men said a word, although it was evident that there had been earnest conversation prior to the coming of the three cowboys. “Gimme a pack of smokin’, Cale,” said Brick, moving up to the counter. “Adventure “When did yuh leave Smoky Creek, Topaz?” asked Harp. Topaz turned and stared at Harp, the tobacco trickling from the crimped paper in his hand. “Smoky Creek?” he parroted. yuh got the best of me, pardner.” “Tf I did it’s the first time anybody has— when yuh was lookin’,” returned Harp seriously. | Topaz let the paper slip out of his hand, but kept his hands above his waist-line. It looked too much like a challenge for him to drop his hands. “Just what do yuh mean?” he asked. “T used to work for the Diamond H.” “Oh, yeah.” Topaz relaxed. “Sa-a-ay, you’re the feller who used to play the jew’s-harp. Still twangin’ along?” “Yeah,” grinned Harp. “Kinda.” “Smoky Creek,” said Brick thoughtfully, turning. ‘“Name’s familiar somehow. Didn’t a feller by name of Martin used to live around there?” Topaz shifted his eyes to Brick’s face and their eyes met. ‘Topaz turned back to Harp, but neither of them answered Brick’s question} “Snubbed!” grunted Brick, licking the edge of a cigaret paper. “A fool and his questions never gits answered,” and then added reflectively: “‘She’s kinda funny about so many Idaho folks movin’ over here, ain’t it? Anybody’d think they quit run- nin’ cows over there.” King Cleeve gave Brick a searching glance, but .Brick’s face told him nothing. Silent was laughing silently, his homely face wreathed in deep lines. He Jooked at King Cleeve, and it seemed to convulse him, but no sound came from his wide mouth. King Cleeve’s eyes narrowed. Silent’s laugh was almost an insult—that kind of laugh; and he was looking directly at King Cleeve. Suddenly the door opened and a man came in. He was about fifty years of age, sandy-haired, his thin face plentifully sprinkled with freckles. His arms were long, his shoulders sloping; but he carried himself with a wiry ease, and the sleeves of his faded shirt seemed to stretch under the relaxed arm muscles. His gun was_ tied down to a rosette on his chaps, the butt ae out at an angle which hinted at fast work, “T reckon Conniclooe <Si: (S@)