Adventure Magazine Cover — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

ee’ eee ae Ce Se ee ke et ee eee ee 160. “It’s for the glory of our fair city,” says Buck. : Wick turns around and walks out. He’s kinda all choked up, but I know danged well it ain’t emotion. Me and Dirty feels that the fair city of Piperock ain’t so badly in need of our assistance; so we saddles up our rollin’ stock and goes to Paradise town. af concerned. When P. T. Barnum said that a fool is born every min- ute, he might have added that they were all pointed toward Yellowrock County. We finds several of the above in Mike Pelly’s saloon, and among them is “Chuck”’ Warner, ““Muley” Bowles, ‘Telescope’ Tol- liver and Henry Clay Peck. These four dis- graces are from the Cross J ranch, but claims Paradise as their native haunt. Also we finds “Liniment” Lucas and ‘“Tomb- stone” Todd and ‘‘Hard-Pan”’ Hawkins. Tombstone is so tough that he can wear tight boots on his bunions, and “Hard-Pan Hawkins keeps books on his crimes. Tomb- stone draws me aside and gnaws on one end of his mustache, while he cuffs his sombrero plentiful. “Tke,” says he hoarse-like, “‘what’s this Tm hearin’ about the hamlet of Piperock? somebody was a-tellin’ me that they’ve convened up there to respectablize the town somewhat.”’ “It’s kinda hard to per-fume the rose,” says I. Tombstone gnaws a little-more and fights his hat. : | “Yeah, I s’pose that’s right, Ike. Are you and Dirty Shirt part and parcel of this here movement?” “Not knowin’ly, Tombstone,” says I. “You can speak to me with perfect confi- dence and go away feelin’ that I won’t exag- gerate what you’ve told me.” “There has been braggin’ goin’ on,” stated Tombstone. “If there’s anythin’ Paradise hates it’s braggin’. Piperock orates that she’s leapin’ ahead like a bee-stung bear. She ain’t, Ike. It jist ain’t no ways possible for her to leap thataway. She ain’t active like Paradise. We’re able to do things. “Whereabouts in —— does Piperock compare with Paradise, I asks yuh to an- Swer honestly? She don’t. We’ve got spirit, climate and brain power. We've got PARADISE runs a dead heat with Piperock, as far as city is Adventure courageous men, wimmin and children. Why, our offspring are equal to two grown men of Piperock. We’ve got everythin’, Ike.’ “Except a elephant, a camel and a tiger,” says I. “What’s them amount to?” “And a Chamber of Commerce, Tomb- stone.”’ “Mm-m-m, yeah. Well?’ “Well — right back at yuh. started this argument.”’ “Tt ain’t no argument, Ike,” he explains. “Paradise is the legitimate place for them things. We could do it up right.” Tombstone invites me back to the bar, which I accepts. Dirty is arguin’ with the Cross J outfit and Liniment Lueas, and from Dirty’s talk I'd gather that he’s body and soul with Piperock. “From this day henceforth, Piperock shall rossom like a blose,’”’ orates Dirty Shirt. “The people of Piperock have rosin in their might, and we are comin’ out into the dight of a lew day. And if that ain’t a —— of a lot to say at once, I’ll eat the gar- ment that made me what I am today.” From that time on things get kinda hazy. Mike Pelly peddles a brand that would make a cotton-tail rabbit grow fangs in his mouth and rattles on his tail. I’m led to understand that Paradise is jealous of Pipe- rock, and that Paradise hankers for them three animals, like a calf hankerin’ for its ma. Me and Dirty balances on the edge of the sidewalk in front of Mike’s place and be- gins to cheer for Piperock, when some care- less son of a gun moved a heavy chair plumb out of Mike’s doorway and it hits me and Dirty Shirt at the same time. And when we woke up we finds ourselves in jail. Hank Padden, our estimable sheriff, tells us that we’re in jail for disturbin’ the peace. “You be ——!”’ wails Dirty Shirt. ‘Para- dise never had no peace to disturb. I can prove it to any judge, jury or collection of folks which has two ideas above a monkey.”’ *T done my duty,” says Hank firm-like. “T was hired for this kind of work. You’ll prob’ly git six months apiece.” This was sure cheerin’ news. The Para- dise jail don’t feed none too good. We had a idea that Piperock would arise in its wrath and come down to drag us forth—but Ecomicbooks.com I never