Adventure Magazine Cover — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

50 Nobody’s goin’ to blame yuh, if yuh don’t ride bad ones. That’s only a small part of the business—the fool part, Jimmy.” “I suppose you're right,” admitted Jimmy. “I wasn’t born to ride buckers. I was just wondering how you two men happened to be cowboys.” ‘Circumstance, I reckon,” said Hash- knife. “I was born on the Milk River, in Montana. My dad wasa preacher, Jimmy. Not the kind of a preacher you’ve known. He wore overalls and boots, and when he wasn’t ridin’ from place to place, packin’ his gospel, he was workin’ like at somethin’ else to make a livin’ for the fam- ily, because preachin’ didn’t pay dividends. “There was six of us kids, and I was the oldest; which meant that I was shiftin’ for myself when I was twelve. I naturally didn’t get over-educated. But I com- peted against men, and they taught me things. There wasn’t anythin’ to do in that country, except punchin’ cows; so I naturally learned the business. “In fact, I was about eighteen years old before I knew there was anythin’ else in the world. Then I started driftin’, learnin’, and fightin’ my way. I got whipped a lot of times, but I learned a lot of things; some of it from books, but a lot more from hu- manity. It’s been a hard school, Jimmy— and it still is; a school where yuh never graduate.” “T never thought of the world in that way, Hashknife.”’ ‘‘That’s the way she is,” declared Sleepy. “T got off in about the same way Hashknife did. My folks wanted to honor Idaho; so they moved over near Pocatello before I was born. I went to school, when they could find a man who was brave enough to teach the risin’ sons—which wasn’t no ways regular. The last teacher we had was a horse-thief, and he almost got me mixed up with him in a deal. “T jist kinda growed up, got some wild- eyed ideas, and follered.a bunch of geese South. I had a lot of corners on me, and inside of three years I had ’em all knocked off. In three years more I had hollers where there used to be bumps. About that time i decided that there was a —— of a lot of other folks in the world; so I sawed off my horns and held my elbows close to my sides, when I went through a crowd. I eventu- ally drifted to the Hashknife outfit, where I finds my pardner. I dunno just how or W. C. TUTTLE why he picked up with me, but we’ve been together ever since.” “T felt sorry for yuh,” said Hashknife solemnly. “Yeah, and I’ve felt sorry for myself ever since.” From out in the patio came the raucous bray of Apollo, as if he had joined the laugh. The three men sauntered out into the patio, where Apollo was nosing around in a water-bucket. He looked them over suspiciously and angled crab-wise toward Sleepy, who was wise in the ways of a burro. “Git away from me, yuh —— relic!’ snorted Sleepy, slapping at the burro with his hat. Marion came from the house, laughing at Sleepy’s antics, and they grouped together at the well. ‘Apollo is a family heirloom,” laughed Marion. “No man knows his age. The Indians say he was here when they came, and he has never grown old, except in appearance.” Marion put one arm over the burro’s neck and rubbed his nose with her hand. “‘He loves me,”’ she said. *‘And I heard a man say once that a burro didn’t have any sense,” smiled Hashknife. Marion colored slightly. ‘““They’re the wisest of animals,” declared Sleepy. Came the sharp thud of a blow, as if something had struck the burro with a heavy impact, and the ancient animal dropped as if its legs had been sud- denly yanked from under its body. In fact, its fall was so sudden that Marion jerked forward, lost her balance, and fell sprawling across its neck. And as she fell, from somewhere back in the hills, came the report of a rifle shot. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that no one moved for a moment. Then Hash- knife flung himself forward, grasped Marion in his arms and ran back to the shelter of the bunk-house, with Sleepy and Jimmy fol- lowing. They stopped against the bunk-house door, staring at each other. Marion was dazed but unhurt. “What was it?” she asked. “Yo’re not hurt?” asked Hashknife anxiously. “Ym not hurt. But what—” “Good gosh, that sure was a close one!”’ exclaimed Sleepy. “Some dirty coyote—’ I—I just fell down. COnmnicloo SS (C@