Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

20 tall man, with a short, brown, curly beard, and rode a buckskin pony. The man’s weight she put at a hundred and eighty. “I told yuh so,” whispered Chuc. in Lanpher’s ear. “Was he kind o’ ski: ny, ma’am?”’ he added. ‘He wasn’t very fat,”’ said the girl. “But he had a beard, yuh say?” “A short, curly, brown beard, and—and— Oh, yes, he smiled all the time he was talk- ing to me.” ‘“‘Djuh notice his eyes, miss?”’ ‘“‘Why yes, it seems to me, now I think of it, that he had light blue or gray eyes.” “Light blue or gray. Um-m-m. ’“Mem- ber the brand on his hoss?”’ “‘Cross-T on the left hip.” “Cross-T on the left hip,’’ repeated Chuck staring hard at Dawson. “T know what yo’re thinkin’, Chuck,” Racey remarked tactlessly, “‘but it wasn’t Henderson. Him an’ Dan Lukens have ‘been mendin’ the windmill ever since he’ was hired, an’ they only finished the job last night. Besides he’s done shaved, Hender- son has.” ‘Tryin’ to blame it on one of my men, huh?” explained Lanpher, not in the least loath to jump at a conclusion. ‘Now, , Morgan, I A Chuck and Lanpher had both dismounted and were standing not more than a yard apart. Which was unfortunate for Lanpher. Hie never finished the sentence in which he had called upon his Maker. The animated delivery ceased with a gasp. For Chuck’s hand had gripped his elbow and something hard and round was poking into his short- ribs. ‘‘Excuse us a while, ma’am,” Chuck said easily. ‘“‘Mister Lanpher is just a-goin’ to take me over back o’ the corral to tell me how sorry he is he cussed in front o’ yuh. He'd do it here, only he’s bashful, Lanpher is, an’ a lady bein’ present sort o’ bluffs him like. We’ be back.” Lanpher, with that hard and round some- thing prodding his side, made no bones of accompanying Chuck. Jane watched them go with inscrutable eyes. Racey smiled a pleased smile. The Indian sat his horse stolidly. He looked half asleep. Arrived at the rear of the corral, Chuck whirled Lanpher about and sent him spin- ning backward. The manager had much ado to keep his balance. “Tl kill you first chance I get!” he ex- Adventure claimed in a voice shaking with emotion. “I know,” said Chuck, brushing aside the assertion with a wave of his hand. “Just help yoreself, old-timer. But there’ssome- thin’ I want to tell yuh. I’d ’a’ told yuh while we was ridin’ round together, but she slipped my mind. I’m awful forgetful. Why, say, yuh’d never believe the things I forget. Yo’re madder’n a bull on the prod, ain’t yuh? Dunno asI blame yuh. Dun- no as I do, bein’ what you are—little an’ mean an’arat. Don’t get impatient, feller, I'll get at what I have to say quick an’ right away. “It’s only this: I can’t be hangin’ round here always ready to rope yuh when yuh get yore leg over the traces. Yuh know yoreself I can’t. I got my job to look after. Well, seein’ how things are, it kind o’ struck me that maybe yuh’d try to run these folks out while ’'m away. It’d be like yuh, from what I’ve heard. Now, here’s the burr under the saddle. Don’t yuh try it. If yuh do I’ll just naturally have to hunt yuh out an’ have a li’l talk with yuh. An’ I don’t want to have to talk rough to yuh. I don’t. Not me. I’m the best-natured feller so long’s I can have my own way. But I gotta have it. I gotta,.an’ there’s no two ways about that.” Chuck paused. Lanpher, by this time, had gotten his feelings under partial control. Further than a smothered expletive he made no sound. “‘Now,’’ continued Chuck, “‘what I want yuh to know is, yuh gotta be decent an’ let these folks alone, or I’ll make yuh hard to find.”’ “You will, huh?” Lanpher did his best to achieve a scornful sneer, but made a poor mouth of it. His self-esteem had, of a truth, been shaken to its bottommost brick, and readjustment came hard. Chuck smiled. But his eyes did not re- lax their watchfulness for an instant. “Yes,” he observed without heat. will. Li’l ol’ me will do that.” “T s’pose yuh know just how popular nesters are round here.’”’ The manager’s tone fairly dripped venom. “Oh, yeah, I guess so. talkin’ about that. whatever.”’ “Don’t it? We'll see.” “You will. Yessir, you’ll see, y’betcha, if anythin’ at all happens to the Dale family. It won’t be necessary for you personal to do al | But I wasn’t It don’t signify, none oO CoOMmiclbooks CO