Adventure Magazine Cover — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

26 investigator. They'll be here tonight, and I want you to help ’em all you can. We're offering a thousand dollars reward, and the express company will probably offer some- thin’. What was all this stuff about you bein’ locked in your own jail?” The sheriff told Le Moyne of the incident, and the handsome paymaster could not suppress a laugh. “Go ahead and laugh,” sighed the ha- rassed sheriff. ‘It sounds funny.”’ “But why did they do it, Sheriff?” “That’s somethin’ I’m goin’ to try and find out.” ““Meanin’ what?” “Well, it kept me from quick action on that robbery, didn’t it?” “Tt rather looks that way,” admitted Le Moyne. “Well, I’ve got to be moving along. I just wanted to tell you about the detectives, and I know you’ll help them all yuh can.” Le Moyne left the office and went up to the store, where he joined Haley. Tex Alden came in to purchase some tobacco. He nodded to Le Moyne, made his purchases and went out again. There had never been open enmity between them, nor had they ever been friends. “Tex got hit pretty hard the other day,” offered the storekeeper. ‘Yuh heard about Antelope Neal takin’ eight thousand away from Tex in a two-handed poker game, didn’t yuh?” “T heard he did,” nodded Le Moyne. “It sounded fishy.” “Well, it wasn’t. He lost it all right. What’s new on the pay-roll robbery?” “Not a thing. The express company has a detective on the case, and we’ve sent for one. They might find out somethin’, but I doubt it. Those men had a good start, and it’s pretty hard to identify gold coin. If they’re ever caught, it won’t be through anything developed around here.” “What do yuh think about that feller throwin’ the messenger out of the car? That sounds funny to me.” “Tt does sound rather queer,’ admitted Le Moyne. “ButIguessit happened. The messenger sure looked as though he had been through a fight. And he wasn’t there when the robbery took place, it seems. Anyway, the money is gone. We better get the mail, Jud, and head for the mine.’ “How much was in that pay-roll?” asked the merchant. W. C. TUTTLE “Thirty-one thousand and eighty dollars, all in gold. It’ll make somebody happy, Abe.” ““Yes—or unhappy, Chet. I don’t reckon any man ever got a lot of happiness from what he stole. It’s unlucky money.” CHAPTER VII JIMMY WINS HIS SPURS ma) FEW short days wrought a #) great change in Jim Legg. His 1 fH face had received its baptism of wea) Arizona sun, and no longer was he the pale-faced city dweller. His skin was be- ginning to peel, and as Johnny Grant said— “He peels off like a package of cigaret papers.’ His hands were seared from fast-traveling ropes, his silken shirt was minus half of one sleeve, and had a huge rent down the back. His ornate sombrero had fallen off in a corral, where a circling remuda had trampled it into the sand, giving it an antique air. And out of self-defense he had quit wear- ing glasses. Just now he leaned against the corral fence, trying to roll a cigaret with cramped fingers. Beside him squatted Johnny Grant, his eyes fixed curiously upon this young man, whose eyes were filled with determination. About fifty feet away from them were Oyster and Eskimo, saddling a horse. The animal was humped painfully, squirming uneasily under the pull of the cinch, but fearing to move, because a heavy bandage had been fastened across its eyes. The two cowboys were talking softly to each other. “This has gone past the funny stage,” Johnny Grant spoke to Jimmy Legg seri- ously. ‘‘We was jokin’ when we dared yuh toride Cowcatcher. Youcan’tridehim. He ditched Eskimo in four jumps, and Eskimo is the best there is around here, Jimmy.” “T said I’d ride him,” reminded Jimmy Legg. “TI haven’t quit yet, have I?” Johnny Grant shook his head. “‘That’s why I hate to see yuh fork that bronc, Jimmy. I don’t sabe yuh, kid. You ain’t strong. Yore body ain’t built for the shocks yuh get in this business. We was raised for this kinda stuff. You ain’t no youngster. That bronc will jist about flatten yuh for life—and whatsa use?” “Johnny, I want to be a cowboy,” said Go JOO AMG SS (©