Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 12, 1927 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

136 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. entered the room and stood !ooking at them. Jimmie saw that her lips quivered, her hands trembled. In battle, she had been supreme. In victory, she was a woman. She dropped into a chair, laid her weary head upon the table and sobbed unrestrain- edly. They both went to her, comforted her. Suddenly Mason dropped to his knees beside her and prayed fervently. Jim- mie saw his mother’s hand reach forth and draw the great head nearer her. Something vast within him asserted itself; something which impelled him to kneel beside the table and bow his head as the father thanked God. Many, many times his father spoke of alkali; of various kinds of alkali- and thanked God for the manner of the dis- closures. After a long time Mason stopped and rose slowly to his feet. Jennie Mason had calmed and she rose with him, a light of happiness and peace in her eyes. Jim- mie, too, rose. Over by the fireplace they all saw Brant on his knees, his head bowed. CHAPTER XXIX. THE DOUBLE M. HE house was of adobe. It stood be- side a river that flowed gently through the prairie lands and watered the lux- uriant bunch grass. A clump ef cotton- woods grew at the western side of the build- ing and offered considerable shade on the long porch during the heat of the after- noons. Over the door to the big house there re- posed a burned-in sign reading Double M. The outhouses carried the same emblem and, to one who might have had the power to count the herds grazing over the prairies, some several thousand steers and no less than fifty wiry ponies carried the same em- blem on their flank. Down by the river bank, there was an arroyo which was well filled with small brambles and underbrush and from here hundreds of birds sang during the day and at night there came the brooding of the ’poorwills or the silvery song of the thrash- er when the moon shone bright. About a aS mile pus there w was a stout Soodiond, wee in the quiet recesses of this lurked the black tail deer. The gobble of wild turkeys, the bark of prairie dogs, the shrill cawing of crows rasped across the melodies of the song birds during the long, peaceful days. Cowboys, men who loved the open and whose faces carried the brand of the plains as clearly as the flanks of animals carried the brand of the ranch, talked drawlingly of herds, of drives, of round-ups. On the long porch in the shade of the cottonwoods sat two men. One was James Mason and he sat contentedly puffing a black pipe and gazing off over the plains. The other was Tom Miles. Mason shifted his position in the canvas chair and spat voluminously over the porch and into the dust. “Tom,” he said easily, “ this here asso- ciation is goin’ to grow into a right im- portant affair—if you ask me.” “It’s needed, Jim,” Miles replied. “ The vigilantes ain’t what they’re cracked up tuh be! They gather together fer the express purpose o’ stretchin’ a neck. It don’t mat- ter a hell o’ a heap whose neck it is, nuther!” “ That’s just it!”” Mason agreed. “The hangin’ o’ that feller Meggs was a derned outrage! He hadn’t run off no cattle! They’re whispering now "bout it bein’ due to a feud atween him an’ one o’ the leaders o’ the vigilantes!” ‘* Jimmie’s com the right thing,” Miles nodded firmly. ‘ This gittin’ the “Stee ranchers together is plumb helpful. Rus- tlin’ is on its last laigs, Jim!” ‘We lost a thousan’ head, I bet,” Ma- son said, seemingly little perturbed over the fact. - * All told, I reckon,” Miles agreed read- ily. ‘But that ain’t goin’ to bother us none if we stop ’em from further drivin’ off. We’re runnin’ close to five thousan’ head now an’ Jimmie says he’s goin’ to bring in that new breed this fall.” ‘ Ralston says we’re goin’ to pass him in two years!” Mason laughed. <“ He says Jimmie’s a natural born business head an’ Brant is the best all ’round cattle man he ever seen.” | | They talked pins until Joe aie cee