Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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TICKETS TO PARADISE. Jim as he stepped aside, and this gracious- ness wholly restored his aplomb. Miss Lucy’s smile was now directed at young Mr. Kenworthy. ‘“Jim’s true blue,’ she observed, “ but at times he slips—when affairs have to be handled delicately. Jim is not an expert judge of character. Your natural resent- ment was entirely justifiable.” Bob’s natural resentment instantly van- ished. “TI don’t know as I’d blame Jim at that, ma’am,” he said frankly. “‘ Mebbe I was a mite aggravating.” “No,” she disclaimed, “‘ you were right. I should have explained that the rule against wearing guns in here applies only to strangers or local men who have proved unreliable in the past. We lose some busi- ness, perhaps, but in the long run it pays. You will not be troubled again.” “ That’s very kind of you, ma’am,”’ Bob eravely rejoined. “I sure appreciate your confidence, which I’ll endeavor to deserve.” “Tm certain you will,” she replied, and turned away, for their discussion was begin- ning to attract interested attention. Bob slowly sipped his whisky, one elbow leaning on the bar, and watched the slim, graceful figure passing here and there - among the tables. “ T’d say this was a queer sort of propo- sition,’ he mused. ‘‘ A woman as nice as that one is—and running a saloon and dance hall. The parts don’t fit.” In the course of these reflections he was aware of a low-voiced conversation between two men who were buying drinks close be- side him; instantly Bob became all ears. “ See Mart this evening?” one asked. “No. What about him?” “T don’t know exactly; but they’s stray rumors circulating about Charlie Rand’s place. Seems like Mart got busted off his hoss into a pile of rocks or something, and Doc Peaseley’s been working on him a heap. His face was more or less bashed in.” “Yeah? That’s tough luck for Mart.” “You said it. But they’s one thing I can’t understand. How’d a fellow get him a pair of black eyes, not to mention a lot of other punishment, out of being bucked off a cayuse? Know what I think? I think 495 some guy got into an argument with Mart out on the range and just naturally beat him up most scandalous.” “So?” was the indifferent response. ‘Well, mebbe youw’re right, and mebbe you ain’t. If you are, the hombre that’s re- sponsible won’t stick around—provided he’s a gent of discretion. This section ain’t liable to be healthy for any one Mart’s taken a cordial dislike to. He better get scarce while the traveling’s good.” Bob Kenworthy chuckled noiselessly to himself. ‘Mart Sandisfield’s got a terrible repu- tation to live up to,” he thought. ‘ I won- der if he’s as hard-boiled as folks give him credit for. Offhand and judged from what I’ve seen of the lad a’ready, I’d say he ain’t —-but likely I'll find out for sure before I’m through. One thing sure—the more I see of this burg, the better I like it. What I want right now is action, and according to the signs Bald Butte’s a good place to locate it.” —————— CHAPTER III. AT THE BOXED J L. ANICE LAMBERTON was out of sorts J with herself and the entire world that morning—the third one following Mar- tin Sandisfield’s disastrous session with Bob Kenworthy on the range. A number of things had gone wrong with Miss Janice. She had been working on a new gown to be worn at the dance destined to wind up Bald Butte’s jubilee, and in not a single point did it meet her desires. The effect, when she studied herself in a none-too-large mirror, was disappointing, far from doing justice to the skill Jan ordinarily displayed. “It’s simply hideous!” she ejaculated impatiently. ‘“ An Indian squaw could do better!” and in a sudden fit of anger she ripped the material apart, determined to begin all over again. This alone could readily account for most of the mental unrest which afflicted the girl, but other things also obtruded— thoughts of Martin Sandisfield, for instance, regarding whom Janice frankly found her- self in a quandary. GEomichbooks (E@)