Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

*& THE LAUGHING RIDER. know that I'll have ye both down before ye can leave the town!” Billy took the opened knife from between his lips, | “Try it,” he mocked, and thereupon es- sayed the difficult job of kneeling to his task, and continuing to cover the sergeant. With his eyes upon MacQuillan, and a- steady gun in his right hand, he felt with the knife in his left for the lashings which held Menzies down. ‘Don’t cut ’em!” roared the sergeant suddenly. “ Don’t cut ’em!” He gulped on the horns of his dilemma, Striving to overcome the pride which sealed his lips. Still Billy groped with his knife, but he was obviously impressed by the empurpied countenance which indicated the conflict that possessed the sergeant’s soul. ‘Don’t bust,’ he adjured him, and catching one of the rustler’s lashings in his knife, he began to saw it through. “Stop!” bawled the sergeant. “I tell ye I have news will make ye a free man!” Billy stopped his sawing. “ What’s that?” he cried. ‘“‘ Hands up!” barked a voice at the door. And there stood the dutiful Flynn who, having returned te give the sergeant his rejected services, was pleased beyond words to find them so obviously needed. “My God!” cried the sergeant. Billy pierced him with a glance full of disillusionment and eloquent contempt. He instantly perceived the trap. MacQuillan had been playing for time—awaiting Flynn’s arrival. “Sergeant!” cried Billy, ‘“‘ yore a low down, double-distilled, snake-blooded co- yote. I never thought it!” He made as if te swing his gun upon Flynn, and immediately cellapsed to the floor as Flynn’s bullet sang above his head. He then picked himself up, and at the same time picked up the form of Samuel K. Menzies by its lashings, and slung the rust- Jer’s body at the constable. The force of the impact as Menzies hit Flynn the chest, hurled the constable through the door, and backward down the steps outside, with Menzies on top of him. Menzies, the gag torn loese, started to say what he thought of being used as a missile, and the sergeant dashed to the window in a futile effort to stop Billy, who had vault- ed through it. MacQuillan nearly paid for that effort with his life, for Billy, in the saddle, fred backward, and the sergeant’s coat sleeve was badly wounded. _ Speechless, Staff Sergeant MacQuillan heard the retreating sound of Concho’s hoof beats. Speechless, he rushed down the steps to untangle Menzies and Supernum- erary Constable Flynn. Speechless he dragged the rustler into the house like a bale of hay, and speechless he saw Flynn follow. “T did my best,” faltered Supernumerary Constable Flynn. | Whereupon Staff Sergeant MacQuillan recovered speech. CHAPTER XXXVIII. BREAKING HOME TIES, NCE more Billy approached the rim '@ of the MacKreagh canon and care- fully surveyed the ranch below him. With a warm thrill of pleasure he observed that the industrious Smedley had so vigor- ously plied his whitewash brush that the better part of the corral fence was a chaste and shining white. Gladly he rejoined Concho, tethered some distance below the cafon rim. Blithely he mounted her, and discordantly humming the strain of “ The Cowboy’s Lament,” he cantered down the rocky wall of the canon until he had achieved the pass that admitted him to the rolling grasslands which surrounded the farm yard. Smedley ran to greet him. ‘“Where’s he gone?” queried Billy. ‘Dunno. He got mail from Sleepy River and he left.” The motherly Mrs. MacKreagh emerged from the kitchen. “Tm right glad you’ve come home!” she cried warmly. “ Get right off and come in to eat. Constable Craddock went away yesterday morning, and Smedley’s been whitewashing the corral ever since.” “Yes,” remarked Smedley. “It was a fine job, too.” So Billy spanked him for his unbecoming discontent. COMMEOO S 915° CO