Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

16 All three turned with a jerk. Chuck’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. For, framed in the doorway, the top of his hat almost brushing the lintel, stood the lanky stranger who had come within an inch or two of kill- ing him on the previous afternoon. Chuck wondered how much of their conversation the man had heard. ‘The other’s face re- vealed nothing. He brazenly winked at Chuck and repeated his inquiry. ‘‘We’re full up,”’ replied Loudon, shaking his head. ‘“‘Now that’s shore a calamity,” declared the stranger. ‘‘I’d my mind all made up to work for yuh. I need a job—bad.” He did not appear to be in dire need of work. He was lean, but he looked well- nourished and as tough and strong as an eighty-dollar saddle. His face, stubbly with a week’s beard, was not in the least haggard. He grinned engagingly, and turned to leave. ‘‘Yuh can go over to the bunkhouse an’ get yore breakfast if yuh like,” suggested Loudon. “Oh, I’ve done had my breakfast,” said the stranger. “I reckon I'll just be wig- glin’ along.” Chuck followed him out. The stranger wheeled at the sound of footsteps. Chuck perceived that his right hand was at his gun and that his washed-out gray eyes had nar- rowed to slits. He was still smiling, but it was not a mirthful smile. Yet so swiftly did the eyes widen and the wolfish smile change to a cheerful grin that the first ex- pression could hardly be said to have been quite an expression. ‘“‘No hard feelin’s,” said the stranger. “T wouldn’t ’a’ downed ye back there in that draw for a ranch in Texas—honest.”’ “I’m shore glad yuh feel that way about it,” remarked Chuck, shaking hands. “T just thought I’d tell yuh to try the 88.” “Now that’s right friendly o’ yuh,” beamed the stranger. “I’ve heard o’ the 88. East o’ here, ain’t it?” ‘‘Southwest,’’ corrected Chuck. ‘But yuh better ride straight west till yuh strike the trail. She’s about ten miles from here. See that saddlebacked hill over yon- der? ‘The trail to the 88 runs just the other side of it.” “I’m shore obliged to yuh,” acknowledged the stranger, swinging into the saddle. He rode off at a lope, his long-legged Adventure rangy buckskin fighting for its head. Chuck watched him go. _ “Cross-T on the left hip,’ he mused. ‘“‘There’s a Cross-T in Lang County, but she’s right hip for hosses an’ left for cows, so that don’t tell me nothin’. His buck- skin shore wants to run, so he’s been havin’ a rest lately. Said he needed a job bad. Gents needin’ jobs don’t rest up their hosses much, ‘East o’ here, ain’t it?’ says he. Knew where the Bar-S was all right, but didn’t know which side of us the 88 lay. Makin’ out yo’re a teetotal stranger, huh? Well, I dunno nothin’ about yuh, Mister Man, but a chunker actin’ an’ talkin’ the way you do will stand watchin’.” “Dat long feller she ees one of Cutnose’ frien’,”’ suggested Laguerre, when Chuck told him of the stranger’s application for work, “TI thought o’ that,” said Chuck, ‘“‘but I dunno. Why would Canter’s friends want to work for the Bar-S, I’d like to know? My idea is he’s a jigger who’s wanted some’ers for a killin’, or holdin’ up a stage, or some such devilment, an’ he’s just ro- mancin’ round lookin’ for a job an’ seein’ what little tricks he can turn on the side. That’s why I told him to go to the 88. I know they’re short a man, an’ if he’s a rustler he couldn’t do better’n ride for the 88. That Lanpher is suspicious like he’s mean. Let Mister Man go to friskin’ round with a runnin’ iron or driftin’ stock into the hills, an’ Lanpher’ll get him. He’s always ridin’ the range, Lanpher is. He’s shore afraid he’ll miss somethin’. I don’t like him, not any, the little rat, but I gotta give him credit for not overlookin’ many bets.” ‘““You have right,” the half-breed nodded. “S’pose now you tell Willie’s Ol’ Brudder- een-Law go look at dees man—see eef she ees one 0’ Cutnose’ frien’.” “I would if I knowed where his camp was. He moves round so, that Injun.” “‘T meet hees niece, de Rainbow, tree day ago w’en she was feesh een de Lazy, un she say dey was move camp up de riviére to de ° mout’ o’ Soogan Creek. Eef I see heem I tell heem. More better you do eet, too.” But neither Chuck nor the half-breed had opportunity that day, nor the next, nor the next, to seek out Willie’s Old Brother-in- Law. For three days they remained at the range repairing the Bar-S freight wagon. After which Laguerre and another puncher COmicloo (©