Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

Longhorns have plenty to do up round the Lazy come down here an’ lick Bun Jason? That’s what I’d like to know. Guess I’ll just wan- der over to the hotel an’ look round.” Chuck wandered over to the hotel, draped himself against the bar, and invited the bar- tender to drink with him. But customers were plentiful, and the bartender was busy. He had time for the drink, but none to em- ploy in conversation. Chuck’s eyes, gazing about the smoky barroom, fell upon an individual known as ‘‘Rattles”, short for Rattlehead Bill. By which nomenclature one may perceive that the person was not renowned for mentality. Rattles was the hotel porter, wood- chopper and hostler. When Chuck saw him he was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, sleeping soundly. His mouth was open, and in one hand he clutched an empty bottle. Chuck knew that it must be an empty bottle because Rattles was asleep. The puncher bought a quart bottle of Old Jordan and crossed the floor to Rattles. He uncorked the bottle, stooped, and held it under Rattles’s reddened nose. When the fragrant bouquet of the whisky smote his olfactory nerves, Rattles awoke with a jerk, dropped his empty and clasped the new arrival. But Chuck dragged it from the reluctant fingers and drove in the cork with a slap of his palm. “Yuh gotta earn this, Rattles,” he said. “TI want yuh to load a wagon for me. Then yuh can have it.” “Aw right,” agreed Rattles, and followed Chuck to the corral, his upper lip twitching like a rabbit’s. “‘Where’s the wagon?” he demanded, see- ing none in the vicinity of the corral. “‘Never mind the wagon,” said Chuck, presenting the bottle. ‘Licker up.” Rattles did not have to be invited twice. He downed a stiff one. “Have another,” urged Chuck. Rattles sucked in another gill or two. “C’mon an’ sit down,” invited Chuck, and squatted on his heels. Sas said Rattles. Chuck took the bottle, made a pretense of drinking, and handed it back. “D’juh know Cutnose Canter, Rattles?” he asked casually. Rattles made the bottle gurgle before re- plying: “Have one yore- 37 “Shore I know Cutnose. Him an’ Bun is thicker’n thieves. Yuh’d think they was brothers.” “How long they been friendly?” ‘“‘About a year, two year, I dunno. Long’s I been here.” Chuck knew that Rattles had infested the Sunrise Hotel for at least three years. “Are they still friends?” “Shore.” “T hear Cutnose gave Bun a lickin’. ‘“‘Shore he did, but Bun’s friendly. He’s gotta be. He’s afraid o’ Cutnose. He thinks I do’ know. Thinks ol’ Rattles is a fool, but Rattles ain’t such a —— fool. Rattles sees, you bet. ‘Yuh —— fool!’ says Cutnose just like that, an’ he pastes one right on Bun’s eye. T hen he knocks him down an’ kicks him, an’ hits him all over again. Right in Bun’s own room too. I seen it all through the winda. ‘Yuh —— fool!’ says Cutnose. Pow! right on the ear. Blam! on the nose. ‘Wha’djuh tell ’em that for! Didn’tcha know we needed that corral!’ Blam! blam! blam! an’ he throws pore ol’ Bun on top o’ the bed an’ busts the bed. Gee, I laughed.” “Was that all he said?’ queried Chuck. ‘“‘Was’n’ that enough? Here, you drink. Don’ wan’ to be selfish. Won’ be selfish. Go to it.” “Tain’t thirsty. Finish her up. Did Bun say anythin’ a-tall?” Nothin’ ‘cept ‘I didn’t mean no harm!’ an’ ‘I told ’em to go up there ’cause— *cause—’cause’—gee, I can’t remember. Nother drink help me ’member.”’ “Yeah, go on!” urged Chuck, breathless with interest. “Wait till I have ’nother drink,’ the dis- graceful Rattles requested. ‘Jus’ one more li] drink—Here! Gimme my bottle!” “Not another drop till you’ve done told me everythin’ Bun said,” Chuck insisted, putting the bottle behind him. “TI can’t ’member somehow,” wailed Rat- tles, and began to weep. 999 ‘“You’ve gotta remember,”’ persisted the | inexorable Chuck. ‘“‘No remember, no drink.”’ Thus adjured Rattles strove to marshal his poor befogged wits. He thought as deeply as he could. “I ’member! I ’member!”’ he cried hap- pily. “Bun said, ‘I sent ’em up there ’cause I knowed you like pretty gals, an’ I knowed after you got through with ’em they’d be COmicloo ©