Adventure Magazine Cover — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

172 eyes were widened a trifle, and there was a gleam of pure enjoyment in them. Grady, his face suffused with red, was staring at the menacing gun as if hypno- tized. The driller, a bearded, dirty speci- men of dyed-in-the-wool oilman, had his hands in the air. The two officials were white and shaking. “This is rather dramatic, but entirely harmless,” Brannon went on. ‘I’m not seeking your money or anything else. I merely want this claim for damages filled in so that the Solar Company will get what is due from the government. I’m using this gun, Grady, because of your unpro- voked assault the other day. I have no desire to stop one of your fists again. I think a plea of self-defense would get me out of any trouble arising from shooting you or any one else who interferes with me. In any event, I’ll shoot quick and think afterward if you lay a finger on me. Will you three gentlemen, all but Grady, move over to the wall, please, and stand there while Mr. Grady, the larruping looloo who is so quick to use his fists when he’s sure he has the advantage, fills in his estimate of the damages and scans this report of mine to see that it’s correct? Thank you.” The three men, patently relieved, leaned against the side wall. Brannon moved to the shelf, his gun ready, and laid the reports down close to the core. ‘““You’ve been reading too many Diamond Dick stories,” sneered Grady. ‘You got no business in here——”’ “Well, I’m here. Let’s get this over, Grady. I have no desire to stay any longer than necessary around you.” Grady’s fingers moved significantly. For a moment he seemed to be weighing his chances, but Brannon cut in warningly. “Tf you don’t think I’ll shoot and shoot quick, make a move in this direction, Grady! And no more of your lip, either. Are you going to look over that damage report? Fill in the amount right here—” his finger indicated the place—‘‘and the description of damage here. Here’s a pen.” The other three men were looking on, and there was more than a hint of enjoyment in the bearded driller’s puckered eyes. Proba- bly Grady was far from popular with his underlings, reflected the flyer. Grady hesitated and then snatched at the papers. Brannon edged a trifle nearer the core. Up to this time it seemed that no Adventure suspicion of his real purpose had entered the minds of the oilmen. Holding the gun in his left hand, he suddenly. picked up a handful of earth in his right, as though from a careless impulse. “Drop that!’ yelped Grady furiously, and actually took a step forward. The other men were suddenly tense. Brannon shoved the gun out significantly. ‘“‘Why all the excitement?” he said sur- prizedly. “You haven’t got a diamond mine, have you?” He dropped the handful of dirt carelessly, and the tension slackened. Grady read the report of damage by snatches, watching Brannon uneasily. Finally he filled in the amount of damage, and a short description of the exact damages required of him. There was utter silence in the crude, lit- tered, muddy building. Brannon could hear the roughnecks talking, but apparently they were several feet from the door. “There you are,”’ snipped Grady, shoving the papers toward Brannon. ‘‘Now you and your airship get the out of here, and stay out!” Brannon smiled, folded the paper with one hand, and stuck it in his shirt. Grady was facing him, five feet away. Both of them were leaning against the plank shelf. The other three men were against the wall Brannon was facing. The airman’s right hand fell carelessly to the shelf. | “The more I listen to you, Grady, the less [like you. Every time you give vent to something, it makes me sicker. Conse- quently, I take great pleasure in doing any- thing—anything at all, which does not meet with your approval. I don’t know why you got so excited over my running my fingers through your dirt here, but just because you don’t like it e Like a flash he scooped up a handful of the core, and before a man had moved or spoken was out the door. He darted around the shack, and in a second was run- ning like a deer for his idling ship. Grady was roaring like a bull as he charged out the door. Brannon, a blissful grin on his face, heard excursions and alarms back of him. He stole a glance— the same young roughneck who had first accosted him was twenty-five yards back of him, followed by a procession which in- cluded Grady. Brannon shoved the moist earth into his COmiclboolks (©