Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

450 er, and he bowed, “I’m here willing to do any of my little specialties at half rates. What about you, boys?” Their eyes had held like the bright eyes of four birds upon the deadly fascination of a snake. To men who ride alone in the mountain-desert, the very name “ woman ” is synonymous of purity, beauty, and grace; in the presence of Patricia they stood awed, and their admiration, and their grunt of assent, thrilled her more than any tribute from her cultured friends of the East. “ Wait a minute,” said Ugly Joe, ‘ while I horn in a bit. What she wants is for you te get the Whisperer. I thought that would change you a bit!” The effect of the name had been magical. Bob Riddle leaped back to the door and peered out into the night. Harry Yale and Jack Tucker jumped back to back and stood crouching a little, as though ready to fight a host of foes; while Chic Woods whipped out two guns and stood with them peised. Patricia shrank back against the wall. ‘“‘ Steady,” called Ugly Joe, after he had enjoyed the full effect of his announce- ment for an instant. “I said she wanted you to get the Whisperer. I didn’t say he was Here.” They relaxed, but cautiously. Riddle - turned only partly from the door; Chic Woods restored his weapons to their hol- sters, but kept his right hand still in post: tion for a lightning draw. But what Patricia saw, oddly enough, was not the men before her, but him whose name had produced this panic among man- killers. She visioned him in one swift flare of sure knowledge—big, silent, neither handsome nor ugly, but simply dangerous! “As a matter of fact,” said Patricia, “ I am not even going to ask you to expose yourselves by hunting for the Whisperer through the hills. I simply want you to stay here and be ready to fight when the Whisperer comes. For he shall come. Will you stay?” - They stayed, and the next day Patricia rode alone toward Eagles. Behind her the trap was really, a strong trap with four teeth of steel, and more, because in time of need all the cow-punchers of Cousin ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Joe Gregory could be summoned. What she needed to make that trap effective was to secure the efficient bait, and already she was tasting the joys of victory. She had no difficulty in finding the house of the Widow Morgan, and there, on the front veranda, sat Goggles. She was at a little distance when she spied him and knew him at once by the descriptien. He wore riding-boots so highly polished that from the distance they glittered like mirrors, and his riding trousers were of a mouse-colored whip-cord, buttoned snugly below the nar- row knees. His loose pongee shirt flut- tered with the puff of wind, and he lay easily back in his chair, with his slender hands locked behind his head. Patricia was irritated, and chiefly by the fact that he seemed so cool. She herself was very hot from the keenness of the sun and labor of the hard ride. She swung from her horse and mounted to the veranda. The mearer view merely proved what she had surmised from the distance. His face was very lean and pale, and behind the great, biack-rimmed spectacles, large and pathetic eyes of soft brown stared out at the world. He was finished by a dapper little mustache. It did not extend clear across the upper lip, but was merely a decorative dab in the center. At her approach he turned his head carelessly and she noted that his face did not light as the faces of most men did when she came near. With her whole heart Patricia despised him. men she would almost have admired him— there is a place of esteem for a dangerous If he had been himself a slayer of . man; but this decorative, smooth, lithe © sneak who lived in the shadow of a great outlaw’s protection and like a jackal preyed on the leavings of the lion’s meal—her dis- gust stormed up strongly in her throat. It made her face hard, indeed. Seeing her pause by him, Goggles arose, with just that touch of lingering hesitancy which indicates the courtesy of habit and Dreeding rather than the attention of nat- ural kindliness. He rose, smiled automati- cally, and offered his chair. Without the slightest hesitancy Patricia slipped into it and sat calmly staring up to him. If she had hoped to irritate him, however, we fl ecomnilelaoolks (CO