Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 122: what you’re looking at

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x 748 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. were sizzling in a frying pan; coffee was boiling. The mingled odors from these prepara- tions wafted to the nostrils of Bob and Faith, set them both almost crazy. They had gone all day long, and through wearing exertions, with nothing more to stay them than a few sandwiches; and as Bob had said, that air was stimulating to the appetite. Both of them were ravenous. The fellow called Slim was showing a touch of impatience. ‘Hurry up with that bacon,” he snapped. “First thing you know Red and the bunch ’ll be along afore we’ve had a chance to eat. I want everything cleaned up and out of the way, so that we can put up a bluff to Red that we’ve been searching, even if we ain’t. Darkness won’t count as no excuse to him. He’d be sore if he thought we’d laid off even for a minute.” “Bacon’s just ready to dish up,” re- turned the other, deftly flipping his pan so as to turn over the golden brown slices, and send out a perfect burst of savory redolence. It was more than Bob could stand. He roused up on fingers and toes, sniffing like a famished lion. Faith, too, was sniffing. That dissuasive grip of hers was no longer so urgent. There are few more powerful arguments than hunger. Suddenly Bob sprang to his feet and started for the two bending over the oil stove. “Hands up!” he barked almost invol- untarily, and thrust forward his leveled fore- finger as if it were a weapon. It was the old trick of pointing a pipe or a screwdriver to fool an adversary; only Bob had neither a pipe nor a screwdriver, he had nothing but his finger. Neither did he do it premeditatedly. He had no especial plan as he rose up. It was a sort of spontaneous inspiration, born of the moment. Nevertheless, it worked. The eyes of Slim and his comrade were dazzled from leaning over the flame of the oil stove, and Bob was in the dark. They never dreamed of course that any one would be such a boob as to go after them without a weapon. Quick as a flash both of them elevated their arms, and, straightening up, stood waiting as Bob advanced toward them. But Faith saw that if he once got into the circle of light cast by the oil stove, the deception would be discovered. ‘Stand still, Bob!” she called sharply. “Don’t go too close. Hold them where you are, and I'll get their weapons.” As she spoke she ran swiftly forward, and circling around behind the two disgruntled bad men, deftly relieved them of their guns, and carried the collection back to Bob. Then, like a swallow, she darted back to the oil stove; for her nose warned her that the bacon in the frying pan was burning. Just in time she snatched it off the blaze. ‘““ Good girl!” Bob commented admiring- ly. “‘ And now, if you’ll take one of these guns and bend it on our friends yonder until I can get them tied up, we'll eat the supper that they’ve so kindly prepared for us.” “No,” demurred Faith. “If you don’t mind, Bob, I think I’d like to do that little job myself. Unless I’m mistaken, this Slim was the one that tied me, and turn about is only fair play.” So, getting some ropes out of the flivver, she proceeded to bind the two captives in an exceedingly expert and workmanlike fash- ion. It’s a pretty thin-blooded Western girl that doesn’t know how to use a rope for something besides a clothes line. ‘* They'll probably be able sooner or later to wriggle out of those knots,” she observed when she had finished; “ but it won’t be until we are quite a distance away from here.” She did not take the trouble to gag them. “Let them howl, if it amuses them,” she said. ‘‘ There’ll be nobody to hear.” However, the language of the prisoners was such when they learned how they had been tricked that she did not encourage re- maining any longer with them than neces- “‘Let’s be on our way,” she said to Bob. “ We can make sandwiches out of this bread and bacon, and fill up the thermos bottle with coffee, and eat as we drive along.” Accordingly, they commandeered the fliv- ver and started off. Both were naturally in an exultant mood over their exploit. The Gomichbooks (C@