Adventure Magazine Cover — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

The Grub-Line ‘“Yo’re runnin’ off at the head consider’ble, pardner,” Tad interrupted hastily. ‘Lead that spotted hoss up a step while I gets a ope on his front feet.” e gave Shorty a meaning look. Frenchy went back into the corral to catch his horse and the two partners were left alone. “Of all the dang fools that ever spoke outa turn, yo’re the dangest, yuh runt,” whispered Tad. ‘‘Want to spile things? I heered yuh pow-wowin’ with that big bull- toad. I rode herd on yuh last night when yuh got a snort uh that red-eye under yore belt and yore hair-trigger disposition was ‘due to break out like a case uh smallpox if ary gent looked cross-eyed at yuh. You know what brung us to this range. Like- wise, if yuh got a lick uh sense, you’d orter know we’re overmatchin’ ourselves if we starts ary play in this spread. Next time yuh flare up [’ll throw yuh in the crick. I taken a heap from yuh but £ got my limit.” Shorty grinned shamefacedly. ‘‘Aw, dry up, yuh danged ole settin’ hen. I know I acted foolish. But if you stood five-foot-five in yore socks and had to take what I do offen human oxes that thinks because I’m a runt, you’d a “I savvy, pardner.”’ Big Tad’s voice was soft asa woman’s. “I savvy. Reckon I’d be thesame way. Let’s fergit it and get yore hull on this spotted snake he staked yuh to. He looks like a bad ’un, boy.” “Yeah.” Shorty side stepped in time to avoid the snapping teeth of the big horse. ‘‘He’s spoiled bad.” ‘‘Want to hobble yore stirrups?” asked Tad when the Paint was saddled and a blindfold adjusted over his white eyes. “Hobble nothin’,”’ grunted Shorty as he pulled on his chaps. ‘‘Jest haze him away from the cut banks when I git goin’.” The Slash R boss and his men were in the saddle, covertly watching the cow-puncher as he prepared to mount. “Bet a new hat he don’t stay ten jumps,” laughed Ribs in a tone loud enough for both Tad and Shorty to hear. “Call that and raise the ante,” drawled Tad. ‘‘Me ’n’ Shorty is broke, but we’re bettin’ our private hosses, outfits and bed ag’in’ a sack uh smokin’ that the Paint gits rode straight up. Fork him, Shorty.” Shorty eased into the saddle and got his right stirrup. ‘Tad slacked the foot rope as the rider jerked the blindfold free. 153 The Paint stood motionless, then as Shorty jabbed him gently with the spurs, leaped forward. Pitching, bawling every jump, the Paint went into action. Shorty, riding with slack rein, sat easily in the saddle, fanning the bronc with his hat. Weaving, twist- ing, the big horse sun-fished and landed limber-legged. | Shorty loosened up, ex- pecting the animal to turn over. ‘Tad, riding behind, drew a sharp breath as he saw the Paint shoot up like a sky-rocket. Shorty got the stirrup that he had kicked free and the little puncher’s hat slapped the pinto’s neck. ““Good ridin’, boy!” yelled Tad. a long time!” Shorty half-turned in the saddle, his lips bared in a mirthless grin. Then the Paint hit the ground at an angle, his knees buckled, and he turned over in a cloud of dust. Shorty, guided by that sixth sense that goes to make a brone rider, had jerked his feet from the stirrups and landed on his feet. When the Paint rose again he was i the saddle, waving his hat. A cheer went up from the Slash R punchers as they rode at a lope in the wake of the pitching horse. “By gar, Reebs, you lose that sack of tobac, eh?” grinned Frenchy as he stood in his stirrups to get a better view. Ribs Austin scowled at the half-breed without replying. “Stay Suddenly the Paint’s head came up and | he tore across the flat. ‘“‘The danged brute’s cold-jawed on him,” muttered Tad, then spurred his horse to a run. The big pinto was heading straight for a high cut bank. Foot by foot the sorrel gained. Shorty shifted his weight to the left stirrup and grabbing his left bridle rein close to the bit, pulled steadily. The Paint’s head did not move an inch. Shorty swung harder on the rein, then suddenly gave way. ‘The rein had broken next to the bit! A scant hundred feet away was the cut bank. Shorty set his jaws as he loosened in the saddle preparatory to quitting the stampeding horse. Tad, leading the rest of the cow-punchers by a hundred yards, was hopelessly outdis- tanced. Not a chance in a million of head- ing the pinto before he crashed over the bank. NOOK C@