Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

126 fell upon these they ceased nudging and whispering and affected an air of extreme unconcern. As Johnny’s gaze fell upon the roulette table he smiled slightly. He understood Slay’s anger at Mrs. Wallace’s defection. Harry Slay was behind the table now, and the patronage was slim. With his sister to spin the wheel roulette would have been the most popular game inthe room. The gambler’s face as he dropped the ball and worked the lever was wooden. He paid and took in bets without once lifting his eyes above the level of the table. Abruptly he turned to a friend. “Spin her, will you, Bill?” he asked. have a little matter of business arrange.” “Shore,” replied friend Bill, and Slay stepped out from behind the table and walked straight toward Johnny Ramsay standing at the door. Johnny had not been expecting any such sudden move as this, but he was in readi- iness. The heel of his right hand just touched the butt of his gun. Slay’s hands were swinging at his sides, but this meant nothing. Johnny had seen Slay throw down once before. As Slay approached Johnny the room, following the hasty shuffling of folk intent on leaving the zone of fire, became as still as midnight in a church. Johnny wondered where Slay’s bullet would make its little hole. He himself intended to put as many pieces of lead as he could into Slay’s abdo- men. Johnny had killed three men since beginning to punch cows for a living. But he had killed them in an impersonal way, that is, at long range, with a rifle. He had borne{no special animosity against these men. He had shot them simply as a mat- ter of course. They had been rustlers, out- laws of the range, wolves to be destroyed on sight. And he had not seen them die. But here was a man he must shoot at clase range with a six-shooter. How would it feel to perforate an enemy and watch him pass out under one’s very eyes. It sud- denly struck him that he himself would in all likelihood be too dead to observe with any thoroughness the demise of another. The idea tickled his sense of humor, and he chuckled audibly. Not ten feet away Slay halted, his hands held well away from his sides. “Looking for me?” Slay asked, his pale ik to Adventure slanting eyes meeting Johnny’s fixed gray stare. “T never hunt trouble,” “Any hard feelings?” ‘“‘Never use ’em.”’ “Have a drink?” “Shore.” The bartender made ludicrous haste to serve the boss and Johnny. Eye to eye the two men drank off their liquor. Johnny, as etiquette required, called for another round. They drank again. Then Slay nodded to Johnny, mentioned that he would see him later, and went back to his roulette table. The incident was closed, and the spectators resumed their pursuit of pleasure with noisy avidity. Johnny, standing alone at the bar—Tom Keen, Ganey and Spill Harper had gone elsewhere—sought to probe the true inward- ness of the gambler’s motive in seeking peace. “Trying to make me believe he’s willin’ to be friendly,” he reflected. ‘‘But he shore is a bigger man than I took him to be, comin’ right out an’ facin’ it thisaway. Nerve an’ slickness—he’s got ’em both. An’ yet not ten minutes ago he stamped his foot at his sister, which is shore one kid’s trick.” replied Johnny. CHAPTER X THE LIGHT THAT LIES re following afternoon Johnny, en- - sconced on the Burr doorsill, saw Slay and his sister coming up the street. Slay, frock-coated in spite of the heat, was leading a saddled horse, and Mrs. Wallace,. radiant in gray and old-rose, held a parasol between her complexion and the sun. She was talking.animatedly to her brother. ‘Here come some friends o’ yores,” Johnny announced, tapping the back of the chair on which Dorothy sat darning re- ligiously. ‘“Who’s with Harry?” she asked calmly. “Yuh knowed he was comin’!”’ he accused. “Why, of course,” she told him with a quick sidewise glance. ‘‘We’re going riding today.” ‘So that’s why yuh’ve got yore boots on.”’ Johnny was not in the least pleased, and his tone showed it. ‘““My dear man, what would you have me wear?” “TI don’t mean yore boots. I mean yuh might ’a’ told me.” Go JOO AMC SCO