Adventure Magazine Cover — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS The sheriff removed his prisoners and the crowd filed down the stairs. Jimmy Legg moved in beside Marion and went down to the street with her. Most of the crowd headed for the Oasis, and Tex Alden was with them. He stopped long enough to see that Jimmy Legg was with Marion, but went on. “Gee, that’s a dirty shame, Miss Taylor,” said Jimmy. ‘They haven’t anything on your father, nor any of the rest.”’ “Oh, I know it, Mr. Legg; but what can we do?” ‘You might start in by calling me Jimmy. I hate the rest of my name. It’s James Eaton Legg. Sounds like a _ cannibal, doesn’t it. Parents never stop to think, when they’re naming innocent children.” “All right, Jimmy—if you’ll call me Marion. Every one does. We are not formal out here in the wilderness.” “T’m glad you’re not. My feet feel fine in those socks. I’ll buy me some tonight and give Buck a new pair.” “Don’t bother about that, Jimmy.” “No bother at all. Say, that Tex Alden don’t like me, does he?’’ “Possibly not.” “Does he—’ Jimmy hesitated. “Does he what, Jimmy?”’ “Oh, that’s a little too personal, Marion.” “TI suppose so. You meant to ask me if Tex thought he had the right to say who I shall speak to, didn’t you?” ‘Well, has he?” “Only in his own mind.” Jimmy laughed softly. “Some folks are blessed with wonderful imaginations. Are you going to stay at the hotel tonight?” ‘Yes, I’ll stay there tonight, anyway.” They walked up the street and met Chet Le Moyne in front of Abe Moon’s store. He shook hands with Marion, who intro- duced him to Jimmy. “You are paymaster of the Santa Rita mine, aren’t you?” asked Jimmy. “I thought that’s what Johnny Grant said.” “Yes,” said Le Moyne patronizingly. “And you are the new cowboy at the AK ranch.” “Yea-a-ah,” drawled Jimmy. me.” Marion laughed. “He’s going to be a good one, too.” “As good as any,” laughed Jimmy. “You’ve had a good start, I hear,” “That’s 39 chuckled Le Moyne. “They tell me that you almost killed Scotty Olson and Lee Barnhardt the day you came here.”’ ‘And never got arrested,” laughed Jimmy. “This is a wonderful country.” Hashknife Hartley and Sleepy Stevens came out of the store, halted on the edge of the sidewalk to light their cigarets, and went on across the street. “Who are those men?” asked Marion. “T noticed the tall one looking at me in the court room.” “‘One—the tall one—is named Hartley,” said Jimmy. ‘The other is Stevens. They met us at the forks of the road this evening, and rode in with us. They’re strangers here, it seems.” Marion and Jimmy strolled on toward the hotel and Le Moyne went to the store. Hashknife and Sleepy mingled with the crowd in the Oasis, and finally took seats at a table near the rear of the place. Business was good, all the games filled, and the bar was doing a big business. The engineer, fireman and the express messenger came over to the saloon and joined the crowd at the bar. ‘Plenty of excitement,’ observed Hash- knife. “This hold-up seems to have kinda stirred up Blue Wells, Sleepy.” “Yeah,” Sleepy did not seem to be very enthusiastic. ‘Aw, shake yore hide,’”’ grinned Hash- knife. “You act like a mourner at a funeral, cowboy.” “T’m all right,” muttered Sleepy. “But it makes me tired. Every time we go any- where, somethin’ happens. There’s no peace anywhere. When them fellers was tellin’ about that hold-up, yore nose was twitchin’ like the nose of a pointer dog. Dang it, me and you didn’t come here to hunt bandits.” Hashknife chuckled softly. “And I’m not huntin’ ’em, Sleepy. What do yuh think of that? TI ain’t lost no ban- dits. It’s nothin’ tome how many pay-rolls they steal.”’ ‘Then don’t say nothin’ more about that girl, Hashknife. Ever since you gota look at her, you’ve spoke about her several times.” ‘“Pshaw! I didn’t realize it, Sleepy. Mebbe I just remarked about her folks all bein’ in jail.” “Let ’em stay in jail,” grunted Sleepy heartlessly. “They prob’ly robbed that train. We didn’t come here to—” COnmniclboool (C@