Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

DAMMING HAIRPIN CANON. The foreman gave an evasive laugh. “Outen sabe?” He hunched up a shoulder. “I’m paid to build this dam as I’m told, brother, not to ask » questions about what's to be done with it after it’s finished. “ Still ’—he leaned toward Norman in a sudden burst of confidence—* I’m free to admit that I never was on a job yet that had quite such a fishy smell to it. You take it from me, there’s a fat slice of graft for somebody in all this—” He halted suddenly as a lumbering, black shadow fell across the brilliant sunlight at the doorway of the shack. A moment later Fenton, the chairman of the board of county commissioners, thrust his head in at the aperture. “ Howdy, Tom,” he said in his soft, undertaker’s voice. He was one of those oily, homespun rascals who pose as the “peepul’s” friend. “Is Mr. Brackett anywhere around?” “Why, no, Mr. Fenton. He went up to Santa Fe last night, and didn’t expect to be back till the first of the week. Meanwhile I’m running the show alone. Anything I can do for our” “ No. No, thanky, Tom. I just want- ed to speak .to Brackett. Nothing im- portant, though—nothing that can’t wait until—” He paused abruptly as his glance happened to fall on Norman seated over in the corner. Huis flabby, some- what unctuous face hardened with sus- picion and a vivid gleam showed in his piggy little eyes. But it was only for aninstant. Then he was his usual benignant, beaming self-again. “ Why, howdy, Mr. Rich?” He ex- tended his hand. ‘ This is sure a sur- prise to find you out here.” “Well, it’s something of a surprise to myself,’ said Norman. “I start- ed out merely to take a short stroll, and, without realizing it, went farther than I intended. ‘hen, since I was here, I thought I might as well look over the 27 work, And a moment ago I dropped in here to rest before tackling the hike back to town.” He thought it just as well to let Fen- ton infer that he had had little oppor- tunity for questioning the foreman. “Well, well!” There was a note of relief in the commissioner’s voice. “You sure don’t need to bother about that return trip now, Mr. Rich. My car’s right here, and I’d certainly be proud to drive you in, if you'll do me the honor of accepting.” Norman saw no reason to decline the offered lift. It seemed about the only return he was due to get for all the arduous, gratuitous work he had per- formed for Los Chicos County. Besides, he had an idea buzzing around in his brain which made him eager to get in to Rio Rita without loss of time. Therefore he expressed his thanks, and followed Fenton out of the shack, and over to the latter’s dusty, battered flivver which stood parked a short dis- tance away. “Tt ain’t much to offer you, I know, Mr. Rich.” The commissioner waved a deprecatory hand toward it. But it’s the best [ can afford. “You don’t get rich,” he sighed, “ working for the public in a poor little county like Los Chicos—nothing much but hard knocks.” : “Lying old hypocrite!” thought Norman. “ I'll bet he’s grafted enough in the last year to buy a “flock of Rolls- Royces.” However, he discreetly kept these re- flections to himself. In fact, he had no choice, for the flivver, as it made its way up the steep, rough road out of the excavation, was wheezing and puff- ing so noisily that he couldn’t have made his companion hear him if he had bawled at the top of his voice. On the level once more, though, it quieted down sufficiently to permit of conversation, and Fenton turned to Norman with an air of sympathetic commiseration. EOPMIG MOO KS (E@)