Adventure Magazine Cover — page 159: what you’re looking at

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

The Grub-Line himself, watched his partner get red in the face and repeatedly choke back some speech that he was suppressing by main force. “‘T’ve seen fellers jest nacherally swell up and bust, doin’ that, Mister Carroway. Better git shet uh it quick er it'll ee yore system.” ‘“‘Aw, dry up. I—TI got a idee, Tad. Quit rawhidin’ me, will yuh?” ‘“‘Let’s have it afore it slips yore feeble mind, runt.” “I was noticin’ the Bar B on that red cow. It’d be shore easy to make the Slash R into a Bar B.”’ “Why yuh danged li’l’ ole cow thief!” grinned Tad. ‘You'll wind up in the pen yet.” “Ribs Austin is nothin’ if he ain’t a rus- tler, Tad. He’s aimin’ to steal the Steve boy’s stock. Now if me and you was to play our cards keerful we could ‘“‘He’s done it, hoss! He’s done it after all these years uh tryin’! It must ’a’ been that fall he taken back yonder when the Paint piled up with him. Same thing hap- pened in Phoenix when ; _ “Aw, ——, Tad. Won’t yub quit ridin’ aman? Lemme tell id “You figger that fer every head uh stock Ribs Austin rustles, me and you makes over a Slash R into a Bar B and throws in a maverick to boot?” “That’s it, Tad.” ‘“‘We gotta go keerful, Shorty. Regard- less uh what Ribs Austin is doin’ to Steve Dunlap, me and you is bustin’ the law when we changes those brands. We’re goners if our foot slips and we git caught.” “Yuh ain’t fergettin’ what brung us north, have yuh, Tad?” “Reckon not, Shorty. The lil’ ole feller that lays planted on the butte above the P Cross ranch was yore uncle, Shorty. But he was more than kin-folks to me. No, I ain’t fergettin’.”” Tad Ladd’s smiling gray eyes went hard as glass and the lines at the corners of his large mouth deepened. They had reached the flat now, and Tad rode around the cattle to hold up the leaders. When the cattle halted and went to grazing, Tad rode around to where Shorty was. “I been wonderin’ what Ribs meant when he said the Steve boy was hidin’ behind a woman’s skirts, Shorty.” “Hmm. Dunno, Tad. Mebbe the kid’s married and that was his wife that was watchin’ with the glasses.” 157 “Mebbeso. Gosh! Look, feller! D’you see what I do?” Tad pointed to a yearling that had fol- lowed a Slash R cow out of the herd. ‘“‘Gosha’mighty, Tad! The critter’s pack- in’ a Bar B and he ain’t weaned off his Slash R mammy yet!” ‘‘And the Bar B has been worked from the Slash R iron. Worked bad, too. Awful bad. See how the tail uh the R has been left stickin’ out and where he’s run the slash into B. A ten-year-old kid could do a bet- ter job uh brand-changin’ than that.” “Steve Dunlap must ’a’ been drunk when he did it.” Tad, in the act of rolling a cigaret, sud- denly crushed tobacco and paper in the palm of his hand. “‘Shucks! , Shorty, me ’n’ you’d bet- ter go to herdin’ sheep. Steve never branded that yearlin’. Ribs Austin done that. He’s fixin’ to frame up on the boy. He dropped us down this here draw so’s we'd find this critter. The Slash R on his ribs is scabbed over good. But where the Slash is hooked to the B and where the un- der part wh the R is run to make it a B, them places is plumb fresh. Fresh as if they was made yesterday. Chances is, that brand was worked yesterday evenin’ while me and you was gettin’ the wrinkles outa our bellies at the chuck wagon. Then they plants mister yearlin’ and his mammy where you and me, new hands and takin’ no sides in this here range argument, finds ’em. He aims to use us as star witnesses, savvy?” ‘“‘What’ll we do, Tad? Kill the critter and cache the hide, er run him outa the country?” Tad did not answer. He had taken a small notebook from his jumper pocket and was studying a list of brands that Ribs Austin had given him the previous evening. ‘‘Here we are, ole timer,” he exclaimed triumphantly. ‘Triangle H B connected. Fall off that hoss, Shorty, and get a fire goin’. Better ride up into that cut-coulée outa sight and build her. Ill work mister yearlin’ up there and we'll have him back in the herd afore the other boys gets in with their drives.” ‘““What’s the idee in “Get that fire goin’, Schiad and shove yore runnin’-iron into the blaze. We ain’t got more’n two weeks to do this job.” Shorty muttered some reply and rode off to obey the orders of the now jubilant Tad. CO DOOLK (©