Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

THE STRAY-MAN, right ear, as though in the act of tummg a crank. “Loco!” he sneered. “ Plumb loco! I reckon you’ve been minglin’ with a hydro- phobia pole-cat.” “Yes,” said Shorty, gently; “I reckon I have, But I’m goin’ to leave him now.” The fat man reddened; his face bloating with rage. ment as Shorty turned to the door and stepped down into the street. ‘* Mebbe she don’t think a heap of me, after all,” Shorty called back to the fat man: “but I reckon she wouldn’t want you to treat my friends mean—when they’re yearnin’ for ham an’ aigs.”’ His last glance at the fat man revealed that bewildered individual weakly leaning on the counter. He was evidently futilely wrestling with the puzzling mystery Shorty had left with hm. CHAPTER VIII. ALL ABOUT A DOG. HEN Shorty reached the street there was a broad grin on his face. “Helen,” he said: ‘ Helen. Even her name is pretty.” He walked over to Red King and patted his glowing mane. The animal whinnied, and Shorty smiled broadly at him. “You didn’t expect she’d have an ugly one, did you, you blazin’ chump.” He leaned against the horse and looked reflec- tively back into the eating-house. His eyes sobered. ‘‘ Mebbe he did have grounds?” he suggested. He looked down the street toward the east. His guest at breakfast had taken that direction. Not far from him he saw the front of the livery stable. There was no sien of the stranger. Shorty intended to stable Red King; but there was plenty of time. The horse had cropped his fill of gramma grass at the r'ver, and noon was not far away. Shorty leaned against the hitching-rail, lazily surveying Loma. The shabby, dis- reputable appearance of the town disgusted him. He was also disgusted with the char- acter of Loma’s citizens—chiefly, with the But he made no hostile move-. 422 one he had already met—the eating-house proprietor. From where he stood he could see many other residents. They were a vicious look- ing lot. He saw a large group in front of a building unmistakably occupied as a saloon. A hitching-rail skirted the front and was heavily fringed with men. Half a dozen others were Seated on the steps that Jed to the barroom; others were draped on a bench in front of the place; and still others were standing. Shorty’s first glance at the group was casual. He had merely looked at the men because his gaze, in roving over the build- ings, had happened to rest upon them. Dis- gust, contempt, curved his hips as he con- tinued to watch the men. Almost instantly his lips straightened and his eyes narrowed—with interest, grim and cold. | A big man sitting on the step in front of the door of the saloon held a dog between his knees. The dog was of nondescript breed, but some one had thought enough of him to place a collar around his neck—a strap with some metal spangles and beads planted on it. The big man’s fingers were gripping the collar, his knees were pressing hard upon the dog’s body, while the animal was making frantic efforts to escape. Shorty was not more than fifty feet from the group of men, and he could see the dis- tress, the frenzy and the impotent rage ex- hibited by the animal in its attempts to es- cape the clutch of the big man. Every man in the group was laughing— their guffaws shattered the quiet of the ‘Street with a resonance that brought heads out of windows. Evidently they were huge- Iy amused. But Shorty did not share in their. amusement. For he saw a boy standing near the edge of the group. He was not more than eight or nine years old. He was shoeless, his bare feet were stained darkly with dirt that seemed to have been accumulating for days; trousers that were much too long — and loose were caught over one of his shoul- ders with what had once been a section of @ pair of broad, cotton suspenders. He was hatless, his face unwashed and his hair unkempt. But he had a cherubic face, (GO) ULC OOOLK (COL