Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

30 “Howdy, Mister Saltoun.” It was no- ticeable that Lanpher’s eyes did not meet squarely those of the other. They rested rather upon the point of Mr. Saltoun’s chin. Lanpher sat down and rolled a nervous cigaret. He got it going, blew out a great puff of smoke, and snatched a sidewise glance at the hard-cut profile of Mr. Sal- toun. “D’juh know they’s nesters on yore land?” was the manager’s opening question. Mr. Saltoun did not even turn his head. He was watching the ponies in the corral. He continued to watch them for a full min- ute before he spoke. ‘““Why, yes, seems to me I did hear some- thin’ about nesters in that old C-Y shack. I dunno as it’s my land. She’s free range.” “They killed a cow o’ mine yest’day.” ‘They did?” “Shore did. An’ bein’ as they’re on yore land I’d like ’em run out.” “You would?” “IT would.” “Hum-m-m.” Mr. Saltoun ran slow fingers through his gray hair. “How d’juh know they killed yore cow?” He shot the question at Lanpher. Lanpher told him how he knew. ‘Well,’ remarked Mr. Saltoun when he had heardit all. “’F you was there at the C-Y why didn’t yuh run ’em out yoreself. _They’s only women-folks an’ a invalid feller. Yuh’d ought to be able to handle them.” Lanpher flushed red at the contempt in the careless tone. He flung caution en- tirely to the afternoon breeze. ‘Yore man Chuck Morgan an’ that In- jun, Willie’s Ol’ Brother-in-Law was there. They held me up, got the drop on me. What couldI do. I had to let the deal go. SolI’m come to you. They’re on yore side o’ the creek, anyway. What are yuh goin’ to do about it?” Mr. Saltoun appeared to ponder for a space. ‘“‘Why, nothin’,” he said at last. wasn’t my cow.” “But looky here—”’ began the outraged Lanpher. “Vuh hadn’t ought to let Chuck hold yuh up thataway,” interrupted Mr. Saltoun. “It’s dangerous. Yuh might ’a’ got yore- self plugged.”’ “Say 99 ‘“‘Waitashake. We’ll get right to the bot- OTe Adventure tom of this. Not that I ain’t takin’ yore word, Mister Lanpher. I’m believin’ yuh. But yuh’ve had yore little say, so she’s only fair to let Chuck Morgan have his. I'll call him. He’s right down there behind the bunkhouse. Hey! Chuck: C’monup here!” Lanpher wet his dry lips. He cared nothing for meeting Chuck. It was de- cidedly more than he had bargained for. Observing the man’s evident distress, Mr. Saltoun smiled a pleasant smile and settled back to enjoy what was coming. Chuck issued from behind the bunkhouse. He was walking fast. Lanpher shifted a trifle in his chair. He hitched his holster forward. Observing which, Mr. Saltoun leaned toward him and whispered: ‘Don’t count on no gunplay, Mister Lanpher. My grandson’s asleep in the house, an’ shootin’ round promiscuous always wakes him up. An’ it’s bad for young ones to be waked up out of a sound sleep. Y’understand me, I hope.” There was a certain menace in Mr. Sal- toun’s tone. Lanpher understood per- fectly. He nodded. By this time Chuck was within a few feet of the porch. The puncher stared imper- sonally at the 88 manager. Lanpher strove to return the stare, but there was not real man enough behind his close-set little eyes to beat down the steady gaze of those clear blue ones. The close-set eyes wavered, the eyelids blinked a time or two, and then the eyes fixed themselves on their usual refuge, the chin of the man confronting them. “Chuck,” said Mr. Saltoun, “‘if yuh feel like goin’ after yore hardware at any time in the followin’ conversation, don’t do it. Mister Lanpher won’t. I'll answer for him. An’ I’m tellin’ yuh flat Ill drill the first man who gets smoky. There’ll be no shootin’ on this ranch, with Junior asleep, not if I can help it. Now that we understand each other, the dance can go on. Chuck, Mister Lanpher has just told me a mighty inter- estin’ tale. Mister Lanpher, s’pose yuh tell Chuck about the skinned cow over near Moccasin Spring.”’ “T didn’t come here to be bull-baited!’’ “‘No?. What did yuh come here for?”’ Mr. Saltoun was smiling broadly. Chuck was not smiling. His features were set, and his mouth was a straight, white line. Sud- -denly his face cleared, and he grinned cheer- fully. He hooked his thumbs in his belt and teetered on his heels. COMmiclsoo (©