Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

124 friend 0’ mine. He’s a-watchin’ ye from the window right now.” Block and his friend involuntarily turned their heads. Framed in the open window were the head and shoulders of a man. In his hands was a sawed-off shotgun. The blunt muzzle gaped ominously at them. “Well, by ——!” began the scratch-faced man. “Shut up!” said Block. seem scared of us. just licker an’ git.” “‘Them’s the words I like to hear,’ ob- served the landlord, slapping bottle and glasses on the bar. “Ye can’t pull out too quick to suit me, Block. I know about yore goin’s-on down in Farewell—rubbin’ out harmless strangers. Ye may be a sheriff an’ all that, but yore office don’t travel a foot in Sunset County.” “Ye talk big,” growled Block. “Ye needn’t think ye can bluff me. If I feel like takin’ this town apart, I'll do it.” ‘Sure, just like ye took the Bend apart. Got the molasses out 0’ yore system yet?” Block’s eyes were fairly murderous. The landlord grinned. : ‘That shotgun’s double-barreled,” he ob- served. ‘Buckshot in each barrel.” __ Block gulped his whisky. The scratch- faced man had finished his drink and was placidly rolling a cigarette. ‘“‘Never did like to quarrel,’’ he remarked, “special not with a shotgun. Mister—” to the landlord—‘“‘have any gents from the Bend rode in today—or yesterday?” “Lookin’ for friends?”’ queried the land- lord. ‘“Sure!”’ “T thought so. Well, I can’t tell ye. Ye see, I ain’t right well acquainted hereabouts. I dunno everybody. There might some- body ’a’ come through, an’ then again there mightn’t. I seed a Injun yest’day, though. Looked like a Digger. Might he be yore partic’lar friend?” An exquisite solicitude was in the landlord’s tone. The other refused to take offense. He smiled wryly. When he spoke, his words were without rancor. “T can’t claim the Injun. I was thinkin’ of a sport named Loudon. Know him?” “T told ye I didn’t know many people round here.” “T was just a-wonderin’. anxious to see Loudon.” “Well, I dunno nothin’ about him.” “These folks No use fussin’. We'll I was kind 0’ Adventure ‘There was a man here named Loudon,” piped up the drummer, perceiving an op- portunity of annoying the landlord. ‘He stayed here all night. Another man was with him, a very dirty old character named Mackenzie. I think Scotty was his first name.” “Which way did they go?” demanded Block. ‘“They rode away toward Paradise Bend.” ‘“‘That drummer can lie faster’n a hoss can trot,” drawled the landlord. “You know they stayed here all night,” said the drummer with a flash of spirit. “TI had breakfast with them.”’ The landlord walked swiftly to the drum- mer, who quailed. “Yo’re lyin’! announced the landlord. “Say so. Say yo’re lyin’, ye pup, or I'll pull yore neck in half.” “Y’m lyin’!’ cried the drummer hastily. “Tm lyin’.”’ “There wasn’t nobody here but you, was there?” inquired the landlord. “N-no.”’ “T guess that’s enough. You see how re- liable this sport is, gents. Can’t believe a word he says.” Block turned toward the door. The scratch-faced man winked at his own re- flection in the mirror behind the bar and stuck his tongue in his cheek. “C’m’on,” said Block. The sheriff and his friend went out into the street. The landlord followed, his ex- pression one of pleasurable anticipation. Four citizens of Rocket, grouped on the sidewalk, watched the two men glumly as they swung into their saddles and loped away. The landlord’s face fell. “Say,” he demanded, ‘“‘why didn’t ye ar- rest him?” “Couldn’t be did,” replied the largest of the quartette, who wore a marshal’s star on his vest. ‘“‘Loudon said his hoss was a chestnut, white spot on nose, didn’t he? One o’ them two cayuses was a black, but the other was a bald-face Pinto. Nothin’ like a chestnut.” “But Loudon done said the hoss-thief was ridin’ with Sheriff Block.’ “That’s all true enough, an’ the party a-ridin’ off with Block may be a hoss-thief, but if he is, he ain’t ridin’ Loudon’s hoss. An’ Loudon’s hoss is the only one we know about. Got to go by the hoss, Dave.” “Why, looky here, Sim; Loudon described CoOMmichoooks (CO