Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

492 him. Not that he’s worth so dern much; but—well, I guess, it’s like most men is with their wives. I’m used to him.” There was such a plaintive note to his tone that Mickey’s ready sympathy was touched. “Listen, old-timer!” He spoke impul- sively. “I don’t know this country any more than a fish; and it’s well worth the price of your skate and all the rest of your duffle for me to have somebody that could guide me out to the trail. S’pose you and I could fix up a deal on that basis?” He put it that way, because he felt in- stinctively that Slim would stiffen and re- fuse an outright gift. Amd the generous ruse worked. The cowboy swung around in the sad- dle, with a long sigh of relief. “ T’ll tell a man, we kin!” he exclaimed. “ You ain’t just kidding, are you, brother?” ‘Never more in earnest in my life,” averred Mickey. “ Haven’t I told you I want to get clear away from this neighbor- hood? Well, alone and at night, I’m apt to wander around in a circle, and land right back at the gypsy camp. It’s worth money to me, I tell you, to have somebody along who can steer me straight. “ What I’d like,” he went on, “ if it can be arranged, is to buy a horse from your outfit, and enough grub for the journey, and then have you go far enough to put me on the trail to the Circle A ranch. Do you think your foreman ’ll stand for that much of a drag on him?” “Sure, he will,” Slim declared unhesi- tatingly. ‘ Ain’t no pikers in our bunch, and we wouldn’t work with none. If you was broke, or in hard luck, you could have the stuff for nothin’; that’s what we’re like. And ’s long as you’re willin’ to pay for it, why, there ain’t no question.” His optimistic assertion proved well founded. On arriving at the branding camp, and explaining his necessities, Mickey found no difficulty in purchasing a serviceable horse from the extra stock on - hand, and also the other supplies he re- quired. ‘“ Makes a pretty good load.” He con- templated the pack after it was made up. “ And Slim tells me, we’ll have some rough ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. going before we get out to the trail. How would it do to leave some of this junk I’ve got here with you, and send over for it after- ward?” He unburdened himself as he spoke of a fur coat which he had won from the gypsy leader, and a couple of revolvers and some gold chains and bracelets which other mem- bers of the caravan had contributed; and tying them up in a bundle, left it in charge of the foreman. Then he and his cowboy pilot started off. The going, as his companion had indicated, was difficult. There was no trail to follow; only Slim’s sense of direction, aided to some extent by the stars, and by the lay of cer- tain surrounding peaks which served him as landmarks. Slowly, therefore, and with many detours, owing to the broken nature of the country, they made their way down from the grass- lands, and out through a jumble of arid hills to an area of alkali flats and sage- brush. It was daylight by the time they reached it; and Mickey, shifting a bit stiffly in his saddle, glanced out over the dreary pros- pect, lit by the rays of the rising sun. He was sleepy and sore from his night’s rid- ing; and the not yet thoroughly healed in- juries he had sustained in the flivver acci- dent were throbbing painfully. “The purple sage, huh!” he sniffed dis- dainfully. “Looks more of a muckle-dun color to me.” Slim’s only comment was a wave of the hand toward a line of low hummocks about ten miles ahead. “Trail’s on t’other side of that there ridge,” he said briefly; ‘“‘ and when we reach it, Pll have earned my pay, and be quitting you. Ali you'll have to do is to foller the plain road back to Circle A ranch. You can’t go wrong. “Guess we’d better stop now, though,” he suggested, “and breathe the hawsses a spell. We kin have breakfast while we’re waiting.” He drew up, and,.dismounting, got out a little alcohol stove, and began slicing bacon and mixing flapjacks. Mickey dropped more heavily out of the saddle, and made no attempt to assist in the COPMIGEL OOO KS (E@)