Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

SILENT bitual silence was a source of wonder to the desert dwellers, to whom conversation is as refreshing as spring water. Still young, Silent Jerry was, no doubt of that; yet he seemed as ageless as’ the desert. The passing years had added to his size and strength until his name was a by- word for mighty human power. V-shaped he was, broad at the shoulders, and tapering muscularly to narrow hips, and straight legs. His hands and forearms were fascinatingly large, corded and sinewy. Nearly always his face was calm, somber, deeply etched by the desert glare and desert sun. Yet when he smiled his face lighted like a boy’s, and his black eyes danced mer- rily. Legends grew up around Silent Jerry, as legends will grow around all silent, mys- terious men. The tales of him were epic and legion; some were true, others un- doubtedly false. He was a source of con- versation and wonder on the desert, where conversation is really appreciated, and there is plenty of time to wonder. ~ Of his origin many guessed; no one knew. He was a professional strong man, said one rumor, a Houdini who had killed three peo- ple, or four or five, in a single fit of anger, and then fled to the desert. Another tale labeled him the last chief of an Indian tribe who knew where mil- lions of gold lay hidden in the desert fast- nesses. This story paid no heed to Silent Jerry’s personal appearance, which was far from that of an Indian; but explained sat- isfactorily his desert lore and craftsmanship, which seemed almost instinctive, and his constant supply of gold. However contradictory were the reports of his origin, the desert dwellers agreed on certain things which Silent Jerry had done. A score of witnesses had seen him tuck a well grown burro under each arm, and walk easily with them into the old wooden hotel at Independence. Others had watched him bend silver dol- lars over his sinewy fingers like so many pieces of cardboard. A touring party ar- rived at Bishop one day, and, wide-eyed, -told of having been stalled deep in the sand when a huge, bronzed man and a little white-faced burro appeared from the brush. 2A 337 The man had planted his feet in the sand, put his hands under the big automobile, and lifted the front end as if it were a toy, while his feet kicked stones under the tires. He had repeated the operation at the back end, smiled and waved his hand, then dis- appeared in the brush again. These were tales of Silent Jerry’s strength. But there were other stories, too, oft repeated stories, for the simple desert dwellers were in a fair way to make a hero of Silent Jerry. Hadn’t he carried an Indian, smitten with smallpox, nine miles on his back from Cac- tus Wells to Independence? “Hadn’t he re- paired the bridge at Swiftwater after the cloudburst, doing the work of three men in a single day? Hadn’t he traveled forty miles on the desert between sunup and sundown to place a warning sign on the spring at Salt Seep after the two Wilsons, father and son, had been fatally poisoned there? Mild feats and tragic feats were reported. An apricot grower at Ten Oaks, in the mountains, was in dire trouble. His place was mortgaged, as such places usually are, but his trees were coming to the fruit-bear- ing stage, and the outlook was promising. Suddenly a plague of ground squirrels in- fested his orchard. Tree after tree was girdled, branches eaten off, buds nipped. In vain the orchardist tried to fight the pests. They seemed innumerable, always increasing. Then Silent Jerry appeared. For two weeks he worked late into the night mak- ing traps of his own design. During the daylight hours he sat silently among the JERRY, trees, picking off the rodents with his auto- - matic as rapidly as they appeared. His aim was remarkable, but his patience was more than remarkable. One morning before the fruit grower could express his gratitude Silent Jerry disappeared. ‘The ground squirrels had been eliminated. For months unsavory rumors had spread over the desert, suggesting a despicable situ- ation in Stubby Pete’s place over at the mouth of Jaw Bone Canon. Pete had taken an Indian woman to wife, but that need not be mentioned in polite society. Still, when word got out that Pete had Eom: 100 (E Fz CO