Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

206 slug, an’ then the other feller swore out a warrant, an’ we went after Sam, An’ there you have it. Allus kinda figured myself as how the ol’ rooster was kind of a harmless ol’ cuss, but, doggone, he shore has been a slippery one. “'Y’never kin tell whut a man’s got inside of him until somebody pokes him on the nose. Ol Sam seen his place. bein’ taken away from him, an’, man, he developed into a hell-raiser fer shore.” “Shore did. But, like you say, I never figured Sam was a_ trouble- maker. Is thet the whole story? Did Calderwood go up thar an’ look things over? There’s allus two sides t’ every story, you know.” “No, I don’t think Gus went up thar at all. We been purty busy down Lava Butte way with them rustlers. But, like I said, I don’t know the whole story—on’y jest pieces of it—I breezed - in yistiddy mornin, an’ Gus says, ‘Go git Sam Dodd,’ an’ I went. ’Tain’t likely Gus has been up thar, though; quite a trip fer Gus, now thet he weighs close t’ three hundred pounds.” “Veah, har, har! Gus, he shore is gettin’ plump. Waal, son, I ain’t got much t’ do t’-day, I think I'll mosey up Sam Dodd’s way an’ kinda look things over. *Tain’t none 0’ my busi- ness, but Sam is a friend o’ mine, an’— an’—they’s allus a chance of a misun- derstandin’. “Don’t suppose you could come along with me?” Dad added. “No? Waal, I won’t mess into things, an’ if I find out anythin’, I'll let you know. You seem like a right bright lad; meb- be you an’ me “ll see more of each other. How’d you like a job as deputy with Dad Williams?” “*Fust rate.” “Good enough. An’ if you kin swing any votes my way this fall, w’y, they'll shore be appreciated.” Dad could never resist the tempta- tion to do a little electioneering when- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ever the chance presented. Chances were that he would need every odd vote he could muster. a iI. Ir was midday when Dad caught sight of Tayo Lake, nestling coolly in a cup-shaped valley surrounded by groves of towering spruce and pine. Not a bad place for a dude ranch at that, Dad thought. Sure was pretty. And Sam Dodd’s dilapidated old shack, up there in the very center of things, was an eyesore. No wonder the two strangers objected to it, and they were, without doubt, within their rights. Old Sam was a squatter, and, if he had a valuable prospect—as his ram- bling talk had seemed to indicate—he had not registered on it. It was a well known fact that Sam Dodd had never registered on any one of his many prospects uncovered during the past thirty years; always afraid of being robbed, Sam was; figured that if he kept the location of his find to him- self no one would try to run him out. Dad approached Sam Dodd’s cabin in a circuitous manner, keeping well hidden within the shelter of the black forest. He could not have told why he did this; as a matter of fact, he could not have told why he had de- cided to come to Tayo Lake in the first place, instead of going on to town as he had planned. Just a hunch— Dad stopped suddenly, and, head on one side, listened intently. Just ahead -was a break in the thicket, spanned by a rocky gorge perhaps two hundred yards across.. The metallic clatter of shovel and pick in gravelly earth, came faintly to him. Down there, just ahead, was Sam Dodd’s claim—at least that was where the old miner had been working the last time Dad Williams had called at Tayo Lake. And now, some one else was working Sam Dodd’s claim. As Dad hesitated, the clatter ceased. COMMICEIOONKS (C@)