Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

230 ~ voice. “Yes—playing poker and carousing in the cabin! Look at those empty bottles and tin cans! Why, you dog-goned mis- creants, you’ve been having a private pic- nic!” “We earned it,” contended Shorty. “Yes; you did; but why did these other loafers jump on the band wagon?” “ We had to!” explained a bearded man. “Listen. Them prisoners are mighty hard nuts. Language? Say, you wouldn’t believe it. We’ve sat over the mine shaft for hours, just listenin’ and learnin’, They gave us hellfire and damnation in eight hour shifts. Yessir! We tried to treat ’em decent, but they got so ornery we had to wallop ’em. They even tried to bribe us; but we fixed that.” <4 How?” “Borrowed them two red broncs from the Joe Jennings ranch. Saddled ’em up and let a coupla pris’ners go ahead and escape. The pris’ners saw the horses and leaped up into the saddle.” ‘‘ And came down,” finished Steve. ‘Just then the other pris’ners made < break to escape, but after we knocked ’em back into the mine shaft we collected the two riders and sorter glued their arms and legs together. We haven’t had any season of rest, Steve. Ask them.” -“T will,” said Steve. Shorty and several others lifted a big wooden cover, topped by a ring, which blocked the entrance to the shaft. Steve looked down into a hole slightly deeper and somewhat larger than an ordinary cellar, where candles spluttered on an old table. A ladder ran downward. A warm, human smell wafted upward. Daylight shone upon the haggard eyes and pale faces of many somber men, including Hammond, Taylor, Hymie Baum, Big Bill Kramer, Big Mike, and several others. . “T’m going down,” said Steve, with a foot on the ladder. Then, raising his voice slightly: ‘‘ If anybody starts anything, you can shoot.” “ Va-a-a-a-a!” snarled a _ passionate “ More rough stuff!” “ Not unless you begin it!” retorted the -_-ranchman, starting down. _ _He found the place not badly equipped. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Heaps of bedding were strewn in the cor- ners or rolled on top of hay piles. Suit cases were numerous. Mirrors were lodged in crannies in the rock which comprised the wall. Clothes, shaving outfits, towels, a water keg, packing cases, and a table helped to make the place habitable. Cans of food and heaps of paper plates were all over the place. The motley crowd stood in a circle at a respectful distance. Finally one of them barked: “ Hell! It’s the mysterious guy!” Steve reached their level and faced them. They had_ suffered. All were battered. Two of them limped. One had his arm in a crude sling. Three others displayed black eyes and swollen jaws. The hook-nosed Hammond seemed worst of all, making Steve suspect that his companions had punished him for leading them into this trap; but Hammond was the first to speak sensibly: “ Say, you seem to be the main guy. How much longer is this thing going to last?” ““ Until you come to terms.” “ Well, what’s the big idea?”’ “Tl tell you. I went into your town and you rolled me for forty thousand dollars.” “Not me!” denied Hammond. “No. These others. That’s why I made you decoy ’em here. They’re going to re- turn that money.” Hammond seemed aggrieved. ‘“‘ That’s all right, mister, but how about keeping me here, eh? How about kid- napin’ me, eh? How about the law, eh? You've butted into a heap of trouble, mister!” “You'd have a nice case to bring into the courts, wouldn’t you?” scoffed Steve. “Yeh. Maybe you’ve got us there; but say—do you know who you’re monkey- in’ with? Do you think you’re foolin’ with a crowd of babies?” “Is that a threat?” ‘“‘ Nope; not while you’ve got your gang with gats, ready to shoot daylight out of us! I’m only just talkin’, It’s a habit. But if I was a poor hick that got tangled up with ¢his bunch, mister, I’d make myself scarce and say my prayers!”