Adventure Magazine Cover — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS 9 “They made it out in my name,”’ said Tex, as if that might mitigate the fact that he had used eight thousand belonging to the X Bar 6 outfit. “That didn’t cause it to belong to you,” reminded Barnhardt. ‘“They can jail yuh for that, Tex. It’s plain embezzlement. I’ve got to account for that eight thousand dollars.” “How soon, Lee?”’ The lawyer frowned thoughtfully. He knew he could defer the accounting for a long time, but what good would that do Tex Alden, whose monthly salary was seventy-five dollars. “Got something in sight, Tex?” he asked. “Not yet,’ Tex studied the toes of his dusty boots. “But yuh never can tell what might turn up.” ad see,”’ Barnhardt relaxed and lighted his pipe. After a few puffs he said— “T think the Santa Rita pay-roll comes in tonight.” “Thasso?” Tex stared at Barnhardt. “How do yuh know?” “Chet Le Moyne rode in a while ago. He always shows up just ahead of the pay-roll and takes it back to the Santa Rita him- self.” Chet Le Moyne was paymaster of the Santa Rita mine, which employed close to three hundred men. The mine was located about twelve miles from Blue Wells. Le Moyne was a handsome sort of a person, dark-haired, dark-eyed, athletic, although slender. Like Tex Alden, he was an in- veterate gambler, although not inclined to plunge wildly. “T think probably he went out to the Taylor ranch,” offered Barnhardt casu- ally. “He never does stay very long in town.” Tex scowled at his boots, and tried to make himself believe that it didn’t make any difference to him if Le Moyne went out to see Marion Taylor. But down in his heart he knew it did—a lot of difference. Paul Taylor owned a small ranch about two miles south of Blue Wells, and there was no one to deny that Marion Taylor was the best-looking girl in that country. Even Lee Barnhardt had cast covetous eyes in that direction, but Marion showed small favor to the thin-faced lawyer. In fact, she had showed little favor to any of the men, ‘reiting them all alike. Perhaps Tex and Le Moyne had been the most per- sistent suitors. Old Paul Taylor, often known as “The Apostle,” did not favor any certain one as a son-in-law. They were all welcome to call, as far as he was concerned. Between himself, his son, a wild-riding, hot-headed youth, known as “‘Buck,”’ and one cowboy, a half-breed Navajo, known as “Peeler,” they managed to eke out a living. Buck and Peeler were as wild as the ranges around Blue Wells, and The Apostle was not far behind, when it came to making the welkin ring. The Apostle was a typical old-time cattleman, who hated to see civilization crowding into the ranges. Barnhardt studied Tex, while the big cowboy humped in a chair and studied the floor. Finally Tex lifted his head and looked at Barnhardt. “Just why did yuh tell me about the santa Rita pay-roll comin’ in tonight, Lee?” “No reason, Tex; just conversation, I reckon. It must run close to thirty thou- sand dollars. Le Moyne had one man with him. That train gets in about nine o’clock. Le Moyne probably will ride straight for the mine. That’s quite a lump of money, Tex. I hear they always pay off in gold, because there’s quite a lot of Mexicans working there, and they like the yellow money.” “Uh-huh,” Tex’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Barnhardt. “Thirty thousand is a lot of money.” “It sure is plenty,” nodded Barnhardt. ‘More than a man could make in a lifetime out here.”’ Tex got to his feet and rolled a cigaret. “Yuh can keep that eight thousand under cover a while, can’tcha, Lee?”’ “For a while, Tex—sure thing.” “Thank yuh, Lee. Adios.” Tex sauntered out and the lawyer looked after him, a crooked smile on his lips, feel- ing that he and Tex Alden understood each other perfectly. He could look from his window and see Tex get his horse at the livery-stable and ride away. The sheriff did not go back to the Oasis Saloon that afternoon. The whole incident wasn’t quite clear in his mind. He had a lump on his forehead, where he hit the floor, and one shin was skinned from the chair, but he wasn’t quite sure just who was to blame for it all. Anyway, he wasn’t sure COMICOoOoe S (C@