Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

Pards He found the clerk and inquired if any one had asked for him or for Whip King. ‘Not a soul, Mr. Goss,” assured the clerk. And he turned away to wait on a newcomer. The gambler moodily cut the end of a cigar and was about to light it when he heard a most musical voice say: “Thank you. I’m rather uncertain how long I shall stay here.”’ Goss turned as she walked to the stairs, preceded by a boy carrying a_beflowered carpetbag and followed by an employee lug- ging a small horsehide trunk. Goss saw only the woman’s back, but he had heard her voice. From her graceful carriage he knew she was young and from her voice he decided she must be beautiful. But women were no novelty in Denver. Back in the old days two years before every masculine eye would have followed the slim figure. Goss gave her attention simply because there was a quality in her voice which was vaguely reminiscent of something. It al- most came to him. He moved to the end of the desk for a last word with the clerk and said— “If any one asks for me tell him to leave a note, saying when and where he’ll meet me, an a) His tongue became paralyzed as a down- ward sweep of his gaze fell on the prim signa- ture— Annie Ellis, Martinsville, Indiana. “When and where he'll meet you?” prompted the clerk. “Yes. Tl be back soon,’ mumbled Goss. He turned toward the door, his dis- ciplined mind for once in a sad whirl. Men entering from the street blocked his way. As he stepped aside and waited he heard a man say: “It’s a phase every community of quick growth seems bound to go through. Too much gambling and speculation, too much recklessness and disregard for law and order. The men trying to raise crops out here find that for the first few years their efforts are defeated by insect pests. In town building it’s much the same. But after we have settled down the gambler and thug will be driven out, at least into hiding, just as the grasshoppers and other nuisances will be overcome by the farmer.”’ | The speaker was Governor Evans, per- sonal friend of President Lincoln, and suc- cessor to William Gilpin, after the latter IIT] was, perhaps, too harshly judged for cutting red tape and sending his pet lambs to defeat ‘‘Baylor’s Babes” and discourage the Con- federacy’s efforts to secure and control the gold lands. Goss sidled along to the door and gained the street with his mind ringing with the one word, phase. Gambling was well near. universal in the camps and towns: Goss had seen a Colorado sheriff pawn his re- volver to continue in a poker game. He had played with law-givers and national legislators, with merchants and miners. He always had prided himself on being a square card-man. Governor Evans evidently considered gambling an incident, something short- lived. Goss resented the characterization. It was the one occupation he had qualified for. If gambling ceased to be the general pastime, or if it became something furtive, he would have no vocation. The thought was disturbing. Even in the midst of his wonderment and dismay over the Ellis girl’s arrival he had to meditate on the governor’s prophecy and consider if he, a gambler, was something very transient. “If gambling is stopped I’ll be as deep in cap as the Pilgrim,” he muttered as he wandered aimlessly to the corner. — Then his thoughts switched back to his friend and the girl and, being off his guard, his lean, dark face betrayed the concern and bewilderment promptly returned to lodge in his mind. If Ellis did not turn up what would his sister do? And if he did appear, what would she do? ‘‘And why the did she come out here like this?” he hopelessly asked himself. Situations calling for direct methods, such as shooting it out with Charley Dodge, were easily handled. But how was one to go to a lonely young woman and bluntly explain her brother had disappeared, or that he was, practically, a fugitive from mountain jus- tice? To remain aloof and permit her to remain in agonizing ignorance was unthink- able. GOSS halted at G street between ¢ Market and Blake where many 7,* had gathered to watch stage gt” coaches and other passenger vehi- cles start for the river. Near-by was Jim Beckwourth, for years head chief of the Crows but now trying his hand at farming. His long black hair and reckless visage and COMIGDIOOKSEEO