Adventure Magazine Cover — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS suppose Mr. Goode is one of that gang of train robbers? He knows what we done in the Modoc country. Figure it out for yourself.” Hashknife nodded seriously. “Yeah, that might be true. Mebbe he thinks we’re here to work on that case. I hate to get fooled on humanity, Sleepy. That feller may be awful slick. He’s either innocent, or smooth as satin, because he sure had an alibi on the end of his tongue.” “But he didn’t have any rifle,” said Jimmy. “A rifle is easy to hide,” shaking his head. for Mr. Goode.” “But that shot was fired at me.” Jimmy was not to be denied of his thrill. “It went right past my ear.” “And why would Goode Jimmy?” questioned Marion. Hashknife laughed and picked some of the burrs off his knees. “‘We’ve got to get an answer-book, folks. I’m glad that the heirloom was only creased. But from now on we’ve got to be mighty careful. Unless I’m mistaken, that shot was only a beginnin’.”’ “Do you think you ought to stay here?” asked Marion nervously. “I mean, to take a chance on your lives, just to help me out?” Hashknife looked at Jimmy, who dug his heel savagely in the hard ground, ap- pearing ill at ease. Finally he looked up, noticing that both Hashknife and Sleepy were waiting for him to answer Marion’s question. “Well,” he said, “‘as far as I’m concerned, Tl stay.” “Three times—and out,” said Hashknife softly. ‘‘They’ve tried twice, Jimmy.” “T know,” seriously. “But,” he grinned and peeled some sunburn off his nose, “Tm beginnin’ to think that you never will die until your time comes.”’ “And that thought will sure help yuh win a lot of fights where the odds are all against yuh, Jimmy,” said Hashknife. “Are you a fatalist?”’ asked Marion. “Well,” grinned Hashknife, ‘if I wasn’t, I'd ’a’ been scared to death years ago.” “T would like to hear about that Modoc affair,” said Jimmy. Hashknife shook his head quickly. “No, Jimmy. It wasn’t anything. Goode said Sleepy, “Nossir, I’d look out shoot at o3 kinda got things twisted. I hope Carrie Nation gets some food on the table pretty soon.” It was like Hashknife to refuse to tell of things they had done. After he and Sleepy Stevens had joined forces and left the Hashknife outfit, fate seemed to throw them into troubled waters. Hashknife was either blessed or cursed with an analyt- ical mind. A range mystery was food and drink to him. Sleepy’s mind ran in normal channels, but he loved to roam, and his love of adventure, fearlessness in the face of danger, made him a valuable ally to Hashknife. So for a number of years their trail had led them where the cattle roamed, working on mysteries; more often than not, working for the sheer love of the thing, rather than for pay. At times they had stepped out of a pall of powder smoke, mounted their horses and rode away ahead of the thanks of those whose future had been made more bright by their coming. “Soldiers of fortune,” them. “Cowpunchers of disaster,” Hashknife. And in all their wanderings, the thing up- permost in their minds was to find the spot where they might be satisfied to settle down and live a peaceful life; both of them real- izing all the while that they would never be satisfied with peace. Always the other side of the hill called to them—the irresis- tible call of the open, of the strange places, which is always answered by men who can’t sit still. a man had called corrected CHAPTER XI THE SHERIFF WONDERS malE’TER Goode rode back to Blue ij) Wells he met Lee Barnhardt, %| who was taking a drink at the ae} Oasis, and Goode, who was also dante told him of his visit to the Double Bar 8, and of the mysterious shot. The lawyer was naturally interested and questioned Goode closely, but Goode knew nothing of who had fired the shot. “YT met Hartley and Stevens,” offered Goode. ‘“‘They’re the same two jiggers that cleaned up that Modoc job.” “Detectives?” asked Barnhardt. “Oh, I dunno about that part of it. But Conmniclool (C@