Adventure Magazine Cover — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

8 W. C. TUTTLE plate and took out ninety-five cents in change.”’ Whether or not there was any truth in the statement, Johnny Grant took sudden exceptions to it and flung himself across the bar, pawing at the bartender, whose shoul- ders collided with the stacked glassware on the back bar, as he tried to escape the claw- ing hands. “Stop that!’ yelled the sheriff. He rushed at Johnny, trying to save the worthy bartender from assault, but one of his big boots became entangled with the feet of Oyster Shell, and he sprawled on his face, narrowly missing the bar-rail, while into him fell Eskimo Olson, backward, of course, his spurs catching in the sheriff’s vest and shirt and almost disrobing him. With a roar of wrath the sheriff got to his feet, made an ineffectual swing at Eskimo, and ran at Oyster, who had backed to the center of the room, holding a chair in both hands. The sheriff was so wrathy that he ignored the chair, until Oyster flung it down against his shins, and the sheriff turned a complete somersault, which knocked all the breath out of him. Johnny Grant had swung around on the bar in time to see the sheriff crash down, ignoring the perspiring bartender, who, armed with a bottle, had backed to the end of the bar. The sheriff got to his feet, one foot still fast between the rounds of the chair, and looked vacantly around. Then he grinned foolishly and headed for the front door, dragging the chair. It trrpped him as he went across the threshold and he fell on his knees outside. Then he got to his feet, tore the offending chair loose, flung it viciously out into. the street, and went. lurching toward his office, scratching his head,,as if wondering what it was all about. “Knocked back seven _ generations,” whooped Eskimo, as he clung to Johnny Grant, who in turn was hugging Oyster. ‘Mamma Mine, I hope t’ die!’ whooped Johnny. “Oh, don’t show me no more! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! He never even seen that chair!” They went into more paroxysms of mirth, while the bartender smoothed his vest, placed his bottle back behind the bar and got a broom to sweep up the broken glass- ware. He knew that he was forgotten for a while, at least. CHAPTER III OTHER PEOPLE’S MONEY HEX ALDEN had left the Oasis Ba fy; and sauntered down the street to 4, Sey] where a weathered sign pro- 3} claimed the office of Lee Barn- hardt, Attorney at Law. Barnhardt was a lean, hatchet-faced, keen-eyed sort of per- son, possibly forty-five years of age, whose eyes were rather too close together, ears small and clmging close to his bony head, and chin was wedge-shaped. His neck was so long and thin that it was the general opinion in Blue Wells that on Sunday Barn- hardt wore a cuff around his neck instead of a collar. Tex Alden and Lee Barnhardt had con- siderable in common, as Tex was manager of the X Bar 6 cattle outfit, while Barn- hardt was legal counsel and manager for the same outfit. Tex had always born a fairly good reputation, except that he was an in- veterate gambler. People admitted that Barnhardt was shrewd, even if they did not like him. Barnhardt was busily engaged in cleaning out his old cob pipe when Tex walked in and sat down,, and like all lawyers he kept Tex waiting until the pipe was cleaned, filled and lighted. Then he turned around on his creaking swivel-chair and fixed his cold eyes upon Tex. “Well?” he managed to say, between puffs. “Well, ——!” snorted Tex. ‘TI just fin- ished losing the eight thousand dollars I got for that shipment to Frisco.” Barnhardt’s eyebrows lifted slightly and he sucked heavily on his extinguished pipe, staring steadily at Tex. Then: “You lost it all, eh? Playing poker with Neal?” Tex nodded wearily. Barnhardt leaned back in his old chair, squinting narrowly at the ceiling. | ‘“That’s a lot of money, Tex,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘It puts you in pretty bad, don’t yuh think?”’ “Sure. That’s why I came over here, Eee.” “Ts that so? Thinking, of course, that I can square it for yuh,” Barnhardt laughed wryly. “It’s quite a job to explain away eight thousand dollars, Tex. I don’t know why you didn’t bring that check to me.” comiclool (©