Adventure Magazine Cover — page 176: what you’re looking at

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

174 “Hmm. Hardly necessary, I think,’ smiled the judge. ‘““The hide has been positively identified.”’ Some of the Slash R men snickered. ‘“‘Reckon the fool must be drunk er loco,”’ sneered Ribs in a tone loud enough to be heard by the judge. ‘‘I’d know that spotted hide in on a dark night.” The judge rapped for order, his eyes blazing with anger. More as an affront to the Slash R owner than to please Tad, the judge rose to his feet and walked to the dripping hide. For several minutes he ex- amined the wet hide, tracing out the brand with his hands. ‘Then he gave Tad a sharp look. A faint smile played about the lips of the judge as he took his seat. “Mr. Dunlap, what is your brand?” he asked carelessly. “Bar B on the left ribs, yore Honor,” re- plied Steve. “And you brand Slash R on the left ribs, do you not, Austin?” “You bet Ido. I-——” The judge rapped for silence. ‘Sheriff, examine the brand on that hide. Examine it carefully.” The sheriff, puzzled, did as he was ordered. An incredulous smile lighted up his face as he traced out the brand welt on the under side of the hide. ‘‘What’s the brand on that hide, sheriff?” snapped the judge. “Tt’s—why it’s Bar B!” ““A —— lie!’ shouted Ribs, jumping to his feet. “I——” “Come up and see for yourself, Austin,” ordered the judge. ‘And no more profanity or it’ll cost you a fine.” Ribs Austin, his hands trembling with ex- citement, examined the brand. His blurred features turned pasty white. “It’s a dirty frame up! It’s—Frenchy, yuh low down skunk, this is yore work. Think you'll get the gal by throwin’ me down, do yuh, yuh lyin’ snake? Well you won’t live tuh brag-about it, yuh <3 AUSTIN’S .45 leaped into sight, belching flame. Frenchy’s gun roared at the same instant. > re a Ribs Austin, a blank, incredulous look on his flabby face, lurched forward, his gun dropping from his hand. The half-breed had at last shot true. Leaping over half a dozen seats, the Adventure breed was lost in the confused crowd that was now milling and crowding, heedless of the bellowed commands of the judge. Tad, gun in hand, stood beside the judge, sweeping the crowd for a glimpse of the breed. The Slash R’ men huddled to- gether, dazed by the sudden twist of affairs. Twisting, dodging, bent double to con- ceal himself, Frenchy gained the door and was outside, running in a zigzag fashion for the line of horses at the hitch-rack. His left arm hung useless at his side, broken above the elbow by Austin’s bullet. Look- ing back over his shoulder as he ran, shooting at the crowd that surged to the door, he did not see the mud-spattered, ragged form of a man that had just swung to the ground from one of the horses at the rack. Not until a pair of wiry arms wrapped around him and a hard fist crashed again and again into his face, did he realize that his escape was cut off. Tad, jumping out a window, ran toward the two men who struggled under the feet of the kicking, snorting horses that were jerking at their hackamore ropes in an effort to get free. The two men rolled clear of the hitch- rack, coming to a halt at Tad’s feet. The dull thud of a gun barrel was heard crashing against Frenchy’s skull, and the ragged man rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet, a .45 in his hand. “Howdy, Taddie,” he croaked hoarsely. ‘Long time no see yuh.” “Shorty! Shorty! Yuh son of a gun!” Tad gathered his partner in his arms, laughing, sobbing, profanely exultant. “Quit pawin’ me, ox,” grunted Shorty. “Quit it, dang yuh. Yuh done busted open that hole in my shoulder.” “You been shot, pardner?”’ Tad’s voice filled with anxiety. “The breed knifed me yesterday at camp. I was loadin’ the pack hoss when he done it. Snuck up from behind. Him and two more Slash R snakes. Left me hog- tied at the edge uh the soap-hole while they run out Bar B yearlin’s into the bog. Our maverick herd is gone, Tad.” “J know it, pardner. I thought he’d th’owed you in the hole too.” “He aimed to, Tad. He acted plumb loco. Kept a-talkin’ about you and Miss Darcey and how he was goin’ to kill you and kill Ribs Austin and what not. He was hog MICLOOOK C© in