Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

638 drenchin’ with agony my boyish soul! And so we rode! All around, the fear-mad steers struggled in a race that was run with Death; and my heart was torn with a stab- bin’ pain as I could hear the whistle of Old Jack’s breath. , Straight away, over the plain, toward the south where waited Arroya Grande—deep and wide and dark. Around us the roar of the rushin’ herd; the moon, up now, ghostly gray; and once in awhile a spark from Dave’s gun as he followed, doin’ his and his bronco’s level best to cheer me up, with the flash of his iron, in .that killin’, supreme test. Fightin’ for breath, old Jack plunged on; me low on his neck, blind with rage and erief and sobbin’: “ It’s all right, old man! You’re holdin’ ’em down—damn ’em— damn ’em! (I could feel his body throb- bin’!) Game old Jack— Good old pard! If they—get—you—1I’m with you—pal!”’ And old Jack must have heard; just must have heard and understood, even in all that rumble, every tremblin’ word; for though he was weakenin’ from loss of blood and terrible shudders shook his frame, and his wind was comin’ in sickenin’ gasps, he’d pick right up when I’d whisper THE uw U ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. his name! On and on, without a check— God! What a race for life for a kid anda little old horse to run! Then old Jack stopped! For barely a second! I felt him crouch—he stiffened— I thought we both were done! My God— what a leap! Out and out— It seemed like we would never stop! The earth just faded away—just faded away in a straight | down drop. We were free! - We were free of the wild stampede— Old Jack had jumped the Arroya Grande! He had jumped that gap -in the earth a twenty-foot bridge would barely have spanned! He went to his knees; staggered a reelin’ step or two; tried to go on—stopped—and fell. That was the end of our last hard ride; I wasn’t hurt; there ain’t much more T care to tell. The roar grew less and less; the herd swerved east, up Arroya Grande, finally drifted away. The boys found us there—me layin’ with my head on old Jack’s neck—sobbin’—just at the break of day. We buried him—deep—no damned wolf should gnaw his bones! And I, well, I quit the range; but my heart’s still there—where I left little old Captain Jack, that wasn’t no horse show hero, but was game to the end and square! END U 10 “FRATERNITY OSH! It’s great to have some feller Bump into you as you go Down the street and land a wallop On your back and say—‘ Hello!” Makes you feel that you’re somebody, ‘And you’ve always got a show While there’s fellers that will slap you On the back and say—‘ Hello!” And it’s good to be a feller That knows other fellers, too, And can greet ’em when he meets ’em, Like a man that’s in “‘ Who’s Who ”; Makes a man feel fine and dandy To call others ‘‘ Bill ” or “ Joe,” And to waltz right up and whale ’em On the back and say—“ Hello!” Will Thomas Withrow, (E@) .OOKS ANCE (E)