Adventure Magazine Cover — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS “T’m James Eat—Jimmy Legg,” he stammered. “T am Marion Taylor,” she said, smiling. ““We own the Double Bar 8.” “Oh, yes.” They considered each other silently for a while. Jimmy glanced around. ‘“‘Where’s your horse, Miss Taylor?”’ She colored slightly. “Got away from me. Spike hates snakes, you see. We found a big rattler, and I got off to shoot it. I didn’t want to shoot off Spike, because he hates a gun; so I got off, and when I shot the rattler, Spike yanked away.” Jimmy nodded. “‘We’ve both lost our horses, it seems. You see, I don’t know anything about snakes.”’ “No? You know a rattler when you see one, don’t you?” “No, I’m sure I wouldn’t.” “Then you better walk carefully, because we've got plenty of them around here. You'll probably see one on your way back to the AK.” “Possibly,” said Jimmy gravely. “But I’m not going back—not now. You see, I’m going to take you home first.”’ “Oh, no,”’ Marion smiled shortly. “It’s only about three miles, you see. I don’t mind the walk.” “Well, I’m goin’ along,” declared Jimmy. “You might get bit by a snake, or—or—” Marion smiled with amusement. “Do you think you could protect me from a rattler, Mr. Legg?”’ “T dunno,” confessed Jimmy. He glanced at the Colt, which swung from her hip. “Can you hit anything with that?” “Sometimes. Why?” “T was just wondering.” “Can you shoot?” she asked. ““Yea-a-a-ah, sure,’ solemnly. Then he laughed outright. “I almost killed the sheriff and a prominent attorney, I believe. It—it went off when I wasn’t looking, you see.” “T heard about it.” They both laughed. “Why not walk to the AK?” asked Marion. “It’s a lot nearer than the Double Bar 8. We—I could get a horse there.”’ Jimmy shook his head quickly. “Everybody is away, and the only horse there is one they call Cowcatcher.”’ 31 ““Cowcatcher!” exclaimed Marion. “I’m sure I don’t want to ride him.” “You couldn’t, anyway. I rode him to- day, and he ran rather wild, it seems. We knocked the horses from under the sheriff and the deputy, and ran into the corral fence, where Cowcatcher hurt his shoulder.” Marion looked at him in amazement. She knew the reputation of that outlaw bucker. “Do you mean to say that you rode Cow- catcher?” “Ves, ma’am.”’ ‘‘And were you on him when he quit?” “Oh, yes,” innocently. ‘‘He’s not very tame, is he?” Jimmy laughed softly. “It was lots of fun.” “Lots of fun?’ Marion bit her lip and stared at this strange young man, whose language and actions did not brand him as a man of the ranges, and yet who had ridden the worst horse in the Blue Wells country, and thought it lots of fun. And yet she had seen him thrown clean at the first pitching buck of a galloping horse. She could see that he had been freshly sun- burned, and that his clothes were com- paratively new. “T don’t understand you, » she told him. Jimmy looked away, his eyes squinted seriously. “Do you always have to understand any one?”’ he asked. “You’re not a cowpuncher, Mr. Legg.” Jimmy turned to her, a half-smile on his wide mouth. “Do I look as raw as all that, Miss Taylor? I know I’m not a cowboy, but I’m going to be. Johnny Grant says I’ll make a good one, if I live to finish my edu- cation.” Marion laughed at his naive confession. “T didn’t know that anybody ever wanted to be a cowboy,” she said. “It’s just hard work.” Jimmy Legg looked at her, a curious ex- pression in his eyes. “And romance,” he said slowly. “It is a big world out here. The blue nights, the sweet air of the hills in the morning, the midday, when the air fairly hums with the heat; and then when the shadows of sunset come, and the birds call—isn’t it worth learning to be a cowboy, to live here?” “Well, when you see things that way, Mr. Legg. I’ve lived here almost all my life, and I—maybe I’m so used to it.” CoOmiclbool (C@