Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

CROSSWORDS AND COW at the dancing couples was Ed Sinclair, the Californian who had quit the ranch that day. “Well, who’d ’a’ figured that jasper to show up here?” he muttered. ‘‘ Ain’t no place for a woman-hater like him!” The ozchestra finished the first haif. Bonita spoke. ‘“T feel a little faint. Would you please bring me a drink, Mr. Upton?” “T sure will, Miss Bonita.” - There was a bowl of punch on a table at the other end of the hall. Link forced his way through the thirsty folk surround- ing it and, after a slight delay, acquired a tin cup of pinkish liquid. Returning with this, he was surprised to find the girl gone. A rear door was ajar, though; perhaps she had stepped outside for fresh air. - The foreman pushed through the door. Down at the bottom of a flight of stairs he glimpsed two figures, evidently arguing with one another. The moonlight enabled him to recognize Bonita—and Ed Sinclair! The greatly amazed Link had reached the - little landing above just in time to catch the girl’s voice angrily exclaiming: “You worthless, no-account beast!” Snarling something in reply, Sinclair abruptly grabbed Bonita in his arms and dashed across the street with the squirming figure. He threw her roughly into his fliv- ver and leaped in. Link Upton dropped the cup of punch. He reached for a gun. Then he recalled that he had left his shooting-iron back at the ranch, in compliance with the rules of polite etiquette. However, with a woman in peril, the foreman knew there was no time to stand still and lament. He plunged down the steps and raced the few yards to the spot where Swiftfoot, his sorrel horse, was tied. Already Sinclair’s flivver was bouncing down the street. 3 The unarmed but undaunted Link vault- ed into the saddle and soon was urging the sorrel into a swift gallop. ‘““We gotta catch ’em, Swiftfoot!” he muttered. ‘ They’s man’s work ahead! I reckon it “ll take more’n ability to untangle . crossword curlycues to get her outa this!” HANDS. ATS He was inclined to exult a little over his great chance. While Doc Cushing and his fellow puzzle patchers were dancing away in the hall, all unconscious of what had happened, it was he who was riding to the rescue of the pretty teacher. The foreman gave just one thought to Sinclair’s behavior. ‘““He busted loose tuh-night. Full uv hooch, prob’ly. He must be crazy to grab Miss Bonita like that and run away with her!” - The Californian’s machine rattled out of Dusty Creek at no modest clip, and not un- til the road began to grow rougher did the sorrel start narrowing the distance between pursued and pursuer. Gradually, however, the gap decreased. Link’s fingers experimented with the rope at his saddlehorn, Could he check the flying flivver? He resolved to bluff. ‘Slam on yuhr brakes, Sinclair, afore I yank yuh clean outa that tin tub!” he yelled, Apparently Sinclair knew who was fol- ~ lowing. And he rather surprised Link by bringing the little car to a stop. Not only did he do this, but he also jumped out of the machine. “Pile off that hoss, yuh big Romeo!” he barked in a tone which seemed very little intoxicated. ‘‘ I been wantin’ tuh take a poke at yuh for some time!” The foreman of the Kickin’ K scrambled — from the sorrel. He stole one glance at the car. Bonita, face pale and eyes darkly wide in the moonlight, was’ ‘straightening up in. the front seat. The next moment Link Upton found him- self in the midst of plenty of action. Sin- clair launched a furious and not ineffective attack. A right-hand smash caught the foreman on the side of the jaw, dropping him to his knees and loosening a couple of good teeth. “This jasper ain’t no slouch!” Link grunted, regaining his feet. Back and forth, in the space around the flivver, thudded home. Occasionally the combat- ants would come to grips and then break loose after administering considerable per- sonal damage. Big, rawboned, hard as O they battled. Fists flailed and. Gomicbooksco