Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

Longhorns anythin’ to ’em. ‘This goes for any o’ yore men, or just anybody yuh happen to give the job to. Don’t think I won’t find it out. I will, trust yore Uncle Dudley, son. He’s the best 1i’1 finder-out in the territory. An’ he’s a-holdin’ you responsible. Y-O-U, you. Now ain’t yuh sorry yuh cussed in front of the lady?” “You go to “My, my, how peevish the li’l feller is this mornin’. Bless its darlin’ heart. It shall have its bottle in a little while, so it shall. You listen. Now that we under- stand each other, you an’ me’ll wander back to the other side of the corral, an’ when we get there yo’re a-goin’ to say how sorry yuh are yuh cussed in front of Miss Dale. Then yo’re a-goin’ to beg her pardon for causin’ her so much trouble an’ for makin’ her pa sick. Then yo’re a-goin’ away from here.” — “An’s’pose I don’t feel like doin’ all these things?” “Then Til fase naturally give ais that lickin’ an’ kick the pants off yuh besides.”’ Lanpher, like the shrewd little animal he really was, squinted his eyes and debated the matter. “Glad to see yo’re all over yore mad,” Chuck commented. “I always said yuh was a bright li'l feller an’ could be good- natured if yuh tried. Think hard now. Scratch yore head if it helps any. Re- member, I’ll shore put my whole heart an’ foot into doin’ a good job if I have to kick yuh. An’ it’ll be right in front o’ the lady— an’ Racey too. Don’t forget that.” “T’ll do it,’”? Lanpher said suddenly, a sinister gleam in his little black eyes. “If yo’re aimin’ to gamble with me,”’ ob- served Chuck, noting the gleam, “don’t do it. I'll still be watchin’ yuh, even if yuh have reformed.” ‘“‘There’s plenty o’ time for what I’m aimin’ to do,’ countered Lanpher. “TI ain’t in no hurry.” “‘Now that’s the talk I like to hear,” came Chuck’s hearty endorsement. “I shore do hate to hustle myself. C’mon, let’s wiggle back an’ you can speak yore 1i’] piece.” Thus adjured Lanpher wiggled. To Miss Dale he, holding his hat, apolo- gized for everything. His manner was in- tensely sullen, but it was respectful. Chuck could find no fault. His task completed, Lanpher turned to mount his horse. ““Wait,”’ ordered Miss Dale coldly, then 1?) to Chuck: Morgan?” “T guess it is,” nodded Chuck, “‘but that’s all right. You bought it. He’s only too glad to let yuh keep it, Lanpher is.”’ “You don’t understand. If it is his beef, we have no right to it. take it with him.” Chuck recognized the futility of argu- ment. He had heard that tone before. Mrs. Kate employed it at times. “You hear, Lanpher,’’ said he softly. “The quarter goes with you.” ‘““Take it down, Racey,’’ snapped Lanpher without turning his head, and reaching for his horse’s bridle. ““Whoe Me?” “Is it really his beef Mister Dawson cried surprised- ly. “Unhook it yoreself.” “Vo’re fired!” “Fired myself *bout half an hour ago. I wouldn’t work for such a hawg as you, nohow.” “Let the beef stay! I don’t want it!” Lanpher’s vcice was a snarl as he stuck foot in stirrup. “Wait a shake,” cried Chuck. “You’ve been told to take that beef along with yuh. Now do it.” For the fraction of a second the harassed manager hesitated. Then his foot fell away from the stirrup, and he turned back to the corral stockade. The hind-quarter had been hung high, and Lanpher was a small man. It was not soothing to know that four people were observing him with interest as he stood on tiptoe and lifted and strained and tugged at that hind-leg which perversely clung and clung and refused to be separated from its peg. He shook it free at last and carried it to his horse. While he was making it fast behind the cantle with the saddle-strings, he happened to glance in Chuck’s direction. To his amazed chagrin that gentleman was stuffing cartridges into the cylinder of a six-shooter. “Vuh see,” drawled Chuck, grinning at him, “I done emptied her at a jack-rabbit when I was ridin’ this way, an’ I didn’t bother to reload just then. An’ after meet- in’ you I was so busy I didn’t have time to reload till now. Funny, ain’t it? I s’pose yuh thought it was loaded all the time, didn’t yuh?” Lanpher was speechless. knot and mounted. “‘Here’s yore gun,” said Chuck, tossing He tied the last COMmicloo S 21 I should like him to CO