Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

THE LAUGHING RIDER. “There!” she cried. ‘I’ve hurt you! I knew it! I was afraid ef it! But what can we do? It’s a problem, Billy. And you can see how it stands. You don’t need my word to know that this home is your home, and if it comes to that, Smedley is just a brother to you, that’s all. But you wouldn’t have your little brother started wrong, would you? And here is MacQuil- _ lan after you by hook or crook, so that by helping you the boy is no more than an outlaw himself. Do you see?” ‘“Ma’am,” said Billy with extraordinary soberness, “ you speak a lot, but what you Say is Hight. 2 ‘““T wouldn’t hurt you for the world!” she cried. “Nor me you,” said Billy. “ I’m ridin’, now. An’ that Smedley, he’d better stop pesterin’ me, or he'll plumb lose the seat of his overalls.” He made this last assur- ance with a grin. Be Good-by, ma,” he said, and stooped to brush her forehead with his lips. ‘ It’s for good.” Smedley burst in upon them. “ There’s a red coat ridin’ up the canon!” he cried. “My land!” exclaimed his mother, dis- mayed. ‘‘ They’ve got you now!” “ Nothing extra!” ‘laughed Billy. “‘ Watch Concho!” And he left the room through the window. He made Concho in three bounds, put her to the gate at the back of the house, which she neatly hurdled, and was off up the grassy hills, which rose to the rocky barrier of the cafon. Constable Craddock, who had come bearing overtures from the sergeant, saw that brown streak flit up above the roof of the house toward which he rode, and put his own mount to the hill- side, riding to cut Billy off. Before the police charger had clambered up the steep bank which parted the trail from the ascending hills, Concho had well- nigh made the foot of the barrier, and Billy turned her, riding along the base of the towering rock, on ground | which fell away to his side. bw horses could have kept fast pace on that uneven ground, and Concho struggled to keep her feet as she cantered along. She stumbled now and then, but she 917 did not fall, and Billy watched the scarlet rider scrambling up the hill to cut him off. Craddock did not quitemake it. Too late he saw that Billy was bound to pass the point at which he aimed to intercept him, and he turned his mount on the hillside to take the chase close on Concho’s heels. As he rode by the ascending redcoat Billy Whipped out his gun and fired over the con- stable’s head. To his disgust, Craddock made no attempt to draw and return the fire. Instead the constable merely waved a paper high over his head and shouted. “What does this mean?” Billy bawled back in disgust. The ground beneath Concho’s feet was rough, and the slope was here and there dissected by washouts and fallen rock. Con- cho leaped one, stumbled, regained her foot- ing, and leaped another. She fell, and Billy rolled some way down the hill before he was up to rejoin her. Into the saddle he sprang once more and urged her on, but Craddock had made an appreciable gain. The rock barrier was now much lower, tapering away to a point some distance before them, where it disap- peared altogether and gave way to the rounded grassy brow of hills which opened to the canon’s mouth. As Concho sailed over the next obstacle —which was a heap of broken rocks—Billy heard the hoofs of the redcoat’s horse strike the earth close behind him, and he felt a thrill which was half regret as he heard Craddock cry out and his mount go down beneath him. A backward glance assured him that neither the policeman nor his mount were seriously hurt, and also that the rider and the horse as well had rolled for a considerable distance down the slope. So he urged Concho on, and appraised the height of the barrier which he now could easily overlook. As Concho, gasping and stumbling, raced onward, the barrier rapidly fell away, but Craddock, once more in the saddle, was close at her gallant heels. Well Billy knew that once at the end of the barrier with Craddock so close behind him, the hard rid- den Concho, that for days had had little rest, would stand no chance against the fresh and well groomed police horse. conmnicooao <SEIGO