Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

14 tears in his eyes, he abandoned all these old horses by the roadside, including one that was almost a good horse. Then he made the women rip up the lining of their seven- teen petticoats each and produce the wealth of the tribe. An old man, he began to learn a new trade, The grye-femmler became a gas-femmler. Being an apt pupil, and not at all particular as to the origin and history of a car, it was not long before he had ac- cumulated a string of nondescript automo- biles fully as long as his famous string of horses. Rollin walked over to his own car and examined it closely. ‘How much?” he asked. “Thousand dollars” — beginning high enough to permit of a discount if necessary. ‘“Tt’s a ver’ fine car. ‘“‘ Oh, yes,” said Rollin. “It always ran remarkably well.” ‘‘ Got nice engine.” ‘“Where’d you get it?” “ Bought it—farmer—long way north of here.”’ | As the chief reviewed the title Rollin sensed that the fellow hadn’t stolen that car —at least, not from Rollin. Otherwise the band would not have lingered in the vicinity. But there was evidently some suspicion that all was not well or the car would not be’ resplendent in quick drying paint. Rollin bethought him of going back to the village and notifying the county authori- ties—but it was a long, weary tramp back and he was tired and his heels were barked. Yet he wanted that car. It was his ear, and he was going to have it. But how? Then old man Adventure nudged him, whis- pering: “ Take it!” Why not? True, he was alone and there were any number of these dark complexioned highway pirates in the offing; but to steal that car—to get away with it—that would be adventure! ‘Go on and do it!” Another nudge. By crackie, he would! ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, He looked at the tires, he inspected this and that, all the time planning the details of his get-away. He climbed in the seat and tried the cushions. He took hold of the wheel. “It fits fairly well,” said he. “Made for you,” nodded the gypsy, speaking the truth by accident for the first time in a deal. ‘Tt was,” said Rollin. ‘‘ Mind if I start the engine?” The old chief had been in bustness a long time. He never let a stranger mount a horse unless he held the bridle, or one of his comrades was near by mounted on a better horse. He looked at the alder brush ahead of the car—he gave an imperceptible signal to his fellow conspirators. ‘« Start her up,”’ said he. Two tribesmen sauntered carelessly to- ward a big car and sat down in the front seat. “It sounds good,” said Rollin, The gypsy began to tell what a good en- gine it really was, what it could do, how powerful, how wonderful, how well equipped —and being naturally reckless and careless with the truth he really went further than the manufacturer had dared in his adver- tising. Rollin backed the car up a few yards—he ran it ahead a few yards—just as though he was only testing it out. ‘“T’ll take eight hundred for it,” said the gypsy. “Tl give you,” said Rollin, “a race for it!” He threw in the clutch and the car leaped like an antelope at the bushes, charged through them, and dashed for the road. The old chief was spry for his age and he made the running board, but the swishing alder saplings brushed him off like a fly from a stampeding steer. Right then Rollin started something be- sides the car. Its given name was trouble. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK U 1 U A. MERRITT RETURNS NEXT WEEK WITH “THE FACE IN THE ABYSS,” A COMPLETE NOVELETTE. DON’T MISS IT oO CoOmmiclbooolks (S@