Adventure Magazine Cover — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

When East Met West Jones, but the rest of it don’t look like him. Right then and there I marks an X after my name for a temperance vote. Yessir, I’m dead,” says the person. “Pye had delirium tremens enough times to know that this ain’t it.” I looks across the room and sees another jigger of the same brand. Then I starts to get out of bed, intendin’ to head for the door and this second dirty-faced thing moves right along with me. I’ve been lookin’ in a mirror. ‘Then I lifts one hand to my face, and it comes away the color of chocolate. There’s a strong odor of turpentine in the place. “What in —— has been happenin’?” I asks. “Are you Ike Harper?” he asks, kinda awed-like. “If that’s a mirror, I ain’t,” says I. “Who are you?” — “T used to be Dirty Shirt Jones.” I starts to scratch my head and finds it all wrapped up in cloth. “Did we get hurt, or somethin’?” I asks. Before he can answer me, Wick Smith, Yuma Yates and Mighty Jones come in. They looks us over, and Wick Smith says— “Thank gosh, they’ re sober enough to ride.”’ “Who done this to us?” oe Dirty. “Tl kill the man that painted me thisaway!” ‘There was six of us done it,”’ says Yuma. “It sure is one good job. By golly, nobody will know yuh, that’s a cinch. Haw-haw- haw-haw!”’ I got off that bed, intendin’ to maul some- body; but Yuma pulled his gun and backed me onto the bed again. “The worst is over, Ike,’ says he. ‘Be docile and gain great fame for yourself— you and Dirty.” “We better be goin’,” opines Wick. ‘“The crowd is anxious for us to get started. C’om, you East Injuns.”’ “East Injuns?” says I. we look like?”’ “Accordin’ to the book,” nods Yuma. “mon.” What could we do, Task yuh? We went out with them, wearin’ bandaged heads, house-paint and mother-hubbards. That paint is beginnin’ to dry on my face, and the turpentine stings like a lot of bees. I opened my mouth and I can’t get it shut. “HWrah for ——!” wails Dirty. ‘‘Who’s fraid of fire?”’ “Is that what eae Sy = 167 We follers ’em up to the corner of Holt’s hotel, and there we finds Gunga Din and Sahara, which are bein’ held by Pete Gon- yer, Olaf Hansen, Hassayampa Harris, Scenery Sims and “Half-Mile” Smith. “Gunga Din is broke to ride,” stated Hassayampa, “but I dunno about Sahara. Ike can ride the elephant, ’cause he’s the biggest, and Dirty Shirt can mount the camel.” “Just a short moment,” says I. body asked us. When I ride, I choose a horse; sabe? J ain’t no elephant scratcher.” “Ain’t yuh?” asks Yuma. ‘‘You swore to do what Miss Greenbaum asked yuh to, Ike. She asks yuh to ride the elephant.” “But what for?” I asks. By golly, I ain’t got no idea what it’s all about. I can hear folks yellin’ out in the street, and when they start to yellin’ in Piperock, I don’t wish to be there. “‘Here’s what yuh got to do,” says Yuma. “You two ride down the street. About in front of Wick’s store yuh will meet old Chief Cod Liver Oil and old Runnin’ Dog, They'll have on their war-bonnets, et cet- tery, and they know what to do. They re- present the old West; sabe? “They give yuh the peace-sign, and it seems like yo’re all talkin’. _That’s the part of it which is knowed as the West meetin’ the East. Then comes Pete in an old cov- ered wagon. That is the comin’ of the white man. The Injuns act surprized. Behind his wagon comes Scenery Sims’ autymobeel, which has been made into 4 fleat, and on it is the three figures, which represent Victory and the Progress of Piperock; sabe? “Then that’s about all, I reckon. I dunno what else there’s to be done, Ike. Magpie explains that much to me. Thatcher’s orchestra will be playin’ all the time, I reckon. Anyway, it’ll be good. Hassayampa, you and Half Mile help Ike up on Gunga Din.” “Tt’ll be good all right,” grunts Mighty. “‘Cod Liver Oil and Runnin’ Dog done split a quart of lemon extract and a bottle of perfume between ’em.”’ I let ’em put me up on the back of that India-rubber ox, which ain’t wearin’ saddle nor bridle. Behind my animal is Dirty Shirt, settin’ on the hump of Sahara, his face twisted kinda funny. He’s got a pair of reins to hang on to. Just then Gunga Din starts ahead. There Eomicbooks.com , Pe, Ss ae =a Maa” - 2 “No- -