Adventure Magazine Cover — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

52 “Not so well,” said Hashknife coldly. He circled the horse, but there was no rifle in sight. “What's the idea?” queried the man. “That’s what I want to know. Who are you, pardner?” ‘““M’ name’s Goode. G-o-o-d-e. Called ‘Plenty.’ ” Goode. He was not a soft-looking person. “Of course, it’s none of my business, but I’m just curious to know who, or which one of us, you tried to kill a while ago, Mr. Goode?” “Me?” ‘Goode spat thoughtfully. “That’s a queer question, my friend with the cocked Winchester. ’S far as I remember, I aim’t tried to kill anybody for a long ““No-o-0-0?”’ drawled Hashknife. “TI hate “T hate to be called to call a man a liar.”’ “Prob’ly,” dryly. one, when I’ve got my hands in the air.”’ “Sure. Yuh might care to tell me how yuh happen to be night here about this time.” “Cinch. I’m from the X Bar 6 outfit. Me and Ed Gast was back toward Yaller Horn Mesa today, and when we’re on our way back I decides to ride down to the Double Bar 8. Ed went on to Blue Wells; so I cutsa straight line for here. Satisfied?” “But not contented,” said Hashknife. “Tust why didja want to come to the Double Bar 8? You know well the three men from that ranch are in jail at Blue Wells.”’ “Oh, I knowed that all right. But I wanted to get a look at the two men who are runnin’ the place.” “Get a look at ’em, eh?” Goode grinned widely, showing his tobacco-stained teeth. “T reckon yo’re one of ’em, stranger. Yuh see, I lived at Black Wells when you and yore pardner cleaned up the Modoc trouble, and I heard a lot about yuh. I’ve always wanted to thank yore pardner for killin’ Jud Mahley. It saved me a ca’tridge.”’ Hashknife studied the face of the ex- Black Wells cowboy, but the man seemed sincere. “T want to believe yuh, Goode. But a while ago somebody fired a rifle up here, and W. C. TUTTLE the bullet almost killed a woman in the Double Bar 8 patio.” Goode’s eyes narrowed. “And yuh thought I done it, Hartley?”’ “TI found yuh here.” “Yeah, that’s true. I heard the shot. It wasn’t long ago. But a shot don’t mean anythin’. I scared up a flock of quail back there on the hill, and I jist wondered if somebody hadn’t been out tryin’ to get a meal of ’em.”’ Hashknife lowered his gun and let down the hammer. “Ym takin’ you at yore word, Goode,” he said. ‘“There’s got to be a reason for that shot—and I don’t reckon you’ve got one,”’ “Well, I sure ain’t, Hartley. Any old time I go bushwhackin’, it won’t be you, nor any of yore friends.”’ “Well, that’s sure thoughtful of yuh. Do yuh know Miss Taylor?” ““Know who she is. Tex Alden intended to send me and one of the other boys down here to run this ranch, but when you boys took it, I reckon he changed his mind.” “Tt didn’t make him mad, did it, Goode?” Goode looked curiously at Hashknife, his lips pursed thoughtfully. “Well, it hadn’t ought to,” he said slowly. Hashknife nodded. He liked Goode for that remark. “We might as well go down to the ranch- house,” suggested Hashknife. “I reckon the shootin’ is all over.” “T hope t’ gosh it is, Hartley. nasty business.”’ They went to the ranch-house, where Hashknife introduced Goode to Sleepy and Jimmy. Marion had gone into the house, but came out a few minutes later and was introduced. Hashknife explained how he had met Goode. It was possibly a half an hour later that Goode rede away. His explanation of how he happened to be there on the hill so soon after the shooting did not satisfy Sleepy. “That jigger’s eyes are hard,” declared Sleepy. “‘Jist like moss-agate. And he’s from Black Wells, Hashknife.”’ “T sabe that,’’ smiled Hashknife. “But I don’t think he did fire that shot. He don’t look like a hired killer, and it’s a cmch he ain’t got no personal reason for killin’ any of us.”’ “‘Ain’t he?” Sleepy smiled wisely. That’s GOMIGIOO S (©