Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

36 CHAPTER X WHAT RATTLES SAID “TQIVE hundred dollars,” mused Chuck, as he rode out of Fort Seymour with his comrades. ‘Twice five hundred is a thousand. One thousand big round silver wheels. Could I ask a certain party a cer- tain question if I had that much dinero in my pants’ pocket? Could I, I wonder? Yeah, an’ would she, huh? Would she, I’d like to know? Her talkin’ grammar like a book an’ ten times sweeter’n sugar. Chuck, yorea fool. She wouldn’t look at yuh for a husband. Husband! Yessir, yo’re shore a fool.’ Chuck was experiencing all the pangs of lover who sees himself flouted. Not that Jane had ever performed a single solitary flout. But she might as well have. Chuck’s vivid imagination was doing the job for her. The puncher took some small comfort in the knowledge that he could at least pro- tect her from Cutnose Canter and all his works. Yes, he could do that. And the sooner the better. ‘“‘What’s yore hurry, Chuck?” Mr. Sal- toun inquired peevishly. ‘‘We got more’na ten-mile ride ahead of us, so slow down, slow down.” Mindful of the fact that the three other punchers knew nothing of the activities of Cutnose Canter and his friends and were to be kept in ignorance thereof, Chuck forbore to argue, and slowed his horse’s gait as re- quested. “T seen yuh talkin’ to that tinhorn last night,’’ Mr. Saltoun said later. ‘‘D’he tell yuh anythin’ more’n we know ’bout them killin’s?”’ “No, I guess not,”’ drawled Chuck, shak- ing his head. | In which Chuck did not strictly adhere to the truth. For the gambler had told him, among other details, of one point in particu- lar which seemed important. But Chuck had no intention of imparting this informa- tion to Mr. Saltoun. No indeed. For the present he would tell Laguerre and no one else. On their way north the five men spent a night at Marysville. Which town is the county-seat of Fort Creek County, and the place of residence of that lively jurist, Henry B. Allison, Judge of the Federal Court. The judge was well known to all the Bar- S boys, and he and Mr. Saltoun were old Adventure cronies. They found him breasting the bar of the Sunrise Hotel. Promptly they all foregathered. Later they adjourned to the judge’s house for a game of poker. Toward midnight when Judge Allison went out to walk round the house for the purpose of changing his luck, Chuck followed him. ‘Judge, I got several things to ask you,” said the puncher, overhauling the jurist at the corner of the wood-pile. | “Why certainly,’ smiled the judge, plunging his hand into a trouser-pocket that clinked. “How much?” ‘Nothin’ like that, Judge,’ protested Chuck. ‘TI ain’t broke by a mile yet. But I wanted to ask yuh about this feller Jason. Do yuh know anythin’ about him besides him ownin’ the Sunrise?”’ “TI know little further than that he dis- penses most excellent whisky. So far as I know he has never been in jail. At least he has never been tried before me.” ‘i ‘‘Never does anythin’ suspicious, does e?” “Not that I know of.” “Is he in town do yuh know, Judge? I didn’t see him flutt’rin’ round any when I was at the hotel.” ‘“‘I don’t suppose you did, and in the na- ture of things you probably won’t for some little time. Mister Jason received a terrific beating last week at the hands of Cutnose Canter of Farewell.” ‘“‘Cutnose Canter!” ‘“‘Cutnose Canter.” “T didn’t know them two fellers was friends.” ‘“‘They weren’t, if the fight they had is any criterion.” Dryly. “T mean I didn’t know they knewed each other even. I’ve talked with Bun Jason, an’ he told me once he never knowed any- body in Farewell. Went sort o’ out of his way to tell me, I remember. I guess I’ll sit out here an’ think. Tell ’em I gotta go see a man, will yuh, Judge, when yuh go back.” The mystified judge pursued his luck- changing course and Chuck sat down on the chopping-block. He rolled a cigaret, lit it, and inhaled deeply. “This here detective business is shore hard on the head,” reflected Chuck, watch- ing a smoke-cloud shred away in the moon- light. ‘‘There’s a whole lot o’ stuff in this deal I don’t understand a-tall. Why should Cutnose Canter who’s supposed to CoOMmiclsoo CO