Adventure Magazine Cover — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

sun-Dog Trails Bunty wondered aloud where Brick could have been going alone. King Cleeve settled that wonder by saying— “TIsn’t there a lady out at the Weeping Tree ranch?” Bunty nodded, and exulted to himself. If there was a woman mixed up in this hold-up, why couldn’t it be—? Bunty smiled. At least it meant that Brick was alone. Of course, Brick alone was enough to make trouble, but Brick alone was not as formidable as Brick and Silent and Harp. Bunty announced that he would attend to Mr. Davidson at once. Three Star was inclined to be pessimistic. ““Packin’ a Winchester. I seen him shoot the tin can off a dog’s tail oncet, and that deg was fannin’ the breeze.” “Accident,” said Topaz. “Mebbyso.”’ Three Star was unconvinced. “Mebbe she was a accident, but that didn’t save the can, and yuh can’t never make me believe that accidents are all thrdugh happenin’.” ‘This time,” stated Bunty, ‘‘there won’t be no accidents.” “Gee cripes!” grunted Three Star. “TI didn’t say it was a accident, did I? I hope there won’t be no intentionals either.” eg BRICK knew that his ride through a7 Marlin City had caused comment, but nothing more. Bunty and Three Star were the least of his troubles, and the fact of the warrants did not disturb him, as he felt that he could clear himself before any jury in Sun-Dog County. He rode straight to the Weeping Tree ranch-house and swung off his horse near the doorway. As he started for the open door Scott Martin confronted him, and Brick stopped. Martin had stopped. with his weight ' resting on his right leg, his body swung a trifle forward and his right hand hanging loosely at his side. Brick recognized the pose; knew that Scott Martin was one of the old school of gun-fighters, and that right now he was in position for fast work. There was nothing friendly-looking about Scott Martin. His face was set in stern lines, his eves coldly blue, and his lower jaw seemed molded to a fighting angle. Brick wondered if this man ever smiled. Scott Martin gave one the impression of — 25 implacable power—power of purpose and physique. He did not speak, but his eyes seemed to challenge Brick. “You're wrong, pardner. know me, but I bring a pipe.” “Tnjun talk?” Martin’s tone was colorless. “Y’betcha. White belts, pardner.” Martin relaxed easily, but before he could reply Jean came to the door and saw Brick. “Hello there!” she called, and her voice was friendly. “Howdy, ma’am,” grinned Brick. day.” Martin glanced from Brick to Jean. “Dad, shake hands with Mr. Davidson. He’s the man who fixed that pipe for me.” Oh!’ Martin smiled and shook hands with Brick, who withdrew his hand as quickly as possible. Brick’s hands were muscular and tough, but Martin’s grip was like that of a steel vise. ‘“Pardner, I hope yuh never take hold of me for anythin’ but a handshake.” Brick flexed his fingers painfully as they went into the house. Jean had done wonders with the living- room of the old ranch-house. Dainty cur- tains hung at the windows, a canary sang from a home-made cage against the wall, and the whole room glowed with cleanliness and cheer. An oblong piece of bright- colored rag carpet covered the center of the floor. On a little table was a jumble of colored cloth, on top of which was a fancy sewing-basket. Brick examined the curtains, paying close attention to the sewing. “Did yuh make all these things?” he asked. “Yes. Are you interested in sewing?” Jean’s eyes danced. “Kinda,” admitted Brick, smiling at her. “Tt —I kinda wanted to see how yuh sewed.” “Going to turn seamstress?” Brick colored and shook his head. “No, ma’am.” “What’s the idea?” There was a trace of suspicion in Martin’s voice. Brick walked over to Martin. ‘“‘Pardner, I don’t exactly sabe the idea myself. Yuh don’t have to answer no questions, y’ understand, and I don’t want COTpnicoookkSs You don’t ““Nice (S@)