Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

THE MAN FROM THE RIO GRANDE. " The posse glanced at one another sheepishly, but not a voice answered. Not a single one relished the idea of crawling into that small, dark opening, knowing that somewhere inside was a heavily armed desperado who meant to sell his life dearly. A tense silence fell upon the crowd. In the space of a few seconds, the tension was broken by the sound of footsteps coming up the pass. All eyes turned to behold Judge Wilson puffing up the path, his ten-gallon hat in his hand and a large, red handkerchief mopping his face. The posse shifted about uneasily as they waited for the judge to draw up. “ Been followin’ right on you fel- lows’ heels,” the judge panted. “ Heard about th’ holdup jist after yuh pulled out. Any truth ’bout the killer bein’ pocketed in a cave? I jist knew that thar Jake Hawkins was lyin’ all th’ time!” “Ves, the killer’s right in thar, judge!”’ one of the posse said, pointing to the small opening in the rocky bank of the ravine, and from which they had all taken good care to stand out of line. “ Hain’t yuh goin’ in tuh get him?” the judge shrieked. ‘ What're ye all standin’ here for like a bunch of mum- lepegs?”’ “How about goin’ in yourself, judge?” some one asked. “It don't look any too healthy tuh us.’’ “That’s so—that’s so,” the judge muttered, scratching his head. “ ’Pears like we’ve got tuh wait him out. He can’t stay in thar forever!” At this point the crowd turned at the sound of crunching gravel at their backs and they saw old Jake hurrying up the trail, his red-flanneled arms swinging in unison with his fast mov- ing legs. “The lying old fool!” the judge rasped. “If it hadn’t been for him maybe we’d had that devil what’s in- side of th’ cave ’fore this. When we get through with this job, we oughta run Jake out of town!” 175 “Right yuh be, judge!’ another of the party agreed. “‘ He’s tuh blame fur Simpson’s death—if it hadn’t been fur his yarn we'd ’a’ kept on lookin’ till we got that killer. But runnin’ out of town’s too easy fur a feller what obstructs th’ law—we oughta hang both old Jake and th’ killer on th’ same rope. That’s my sentiments! They both had a hand in Simpson’s cashin’ out—the killer with his guns and old Jake throwin’ us off th’ killer’s trail with his lyin’ tongue.” “That’s jist th’ way I size it up!” another opponent of old Jake broke out. “‘When he gits up here whare we kin lay our hands on him, I’m fur stringin’ Jake up. If it hadn’t been fur th’ lyin’ old bluff, Simpson wouldn’t be dead now—we’'d ’a’ had that killer long ago or chased him clean out of these parts.” “Git th’ rope ready!” a big, red- headed fellow wheezed. “ When Jake gits up here, couple of us ‘Il grab him tight swift. That big tree up thar a piece ‘Il do mighty well.” “ But you cain’t do that, boys!” the judge protested, holding up his hands. “Thar hain’t no law what makes lyin’ punishable with death. And that’s all Jake’s really done!” “Law or no law, Jake’s goin’ tuh swing!” the red-headed fellow flashed back. “ We've listened tuh yuh and yore blamed law long enough—that’s how th’ killer came tuh get away in th’ first place! Nobody what had any sense would ever have thought of ap- pointin’ an old liar like Jake tuh fill th’ sheriff’s shoes!’ The judge’s face flushed, but his eyes flashed. “I won’t stand fur any- thing what ain’t lawful! Remember, I’m th’ judge of—” “ Better keep quiet and let us fel- lows handle this, judge!’ some one cut in. “Yes—and not so loud!’ another whispered. “Jake’s gittin’ mighty close. Git ready tuh grab him!” Judge Wilson started to break out CORNICLOOOKS (E@)