Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

942 ford, panic-stricken under the prick- ings of their own guilty consciences, had not been able to foresee this state of public apathy and indifference. It required only a glance at the pos- ter to send them bolting. White-faced and trembling, they spent the night in their retreat on the other side of the canon, anxiously consulting as to how they might save their skins and their scheme. There seemed no way to avert the threatened explosion. An emissary they had sent hurrying to the Salem printer to try and buy up the run-off of posters, and persuade him to print no more, returned to report that al- ready several hundred copies had been sent to outlying districts of Los Chicos County, and were on display there. “Well,” said Fenton huskily, “ that means there ain’t no stopping the cy- clone. All we can do is to set tight over here, and wait till she blows herself out. “T'won’t take long. Them things always simmers down. Then we can go back, and see what chance there is of pacifyin’ ’em.” “Yes,” spoke up Crawford, struck by an idea. “ But in the meantime, how do we know what damage will be done? Finding us gone, aren’t they apt to wreak their fury on the dam? “Suppose they destroy what has been done, where are we going to find fresh funds to start in over again?” Fenton scratched his nose at this suggestion. “Seems like, under the circum- stances, Blair “Il have to shell out a bit,” he ventured. “ Blair?” Crawford sneered deri- sively, ‘ You might as well learn now as any other time that Blair isn’t in this, and never has been. I’ve only been using his name to string you suck- ers along. “No, Blair is very much on the other side. and he’ll be more so now, after what has happened to his daugh- ter.” This naturally created an angry di- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. version. But Crawford only jeered at them for having been so credulous as to believe that there could be such a thing as honor among thieves. “JT was playing my own game with you, of course,” he confessed coolly; “not Blair’s, nor yours, nor anybody else’s. And now there’s no use crying over spilled milk. You swallowed my bait, and you’re in this thing with me up to your eyebrows, and you’ve got to pull along with me whether you want to or not. “So, let’s can all this chatter, and decide what we’re going to do about protecting the dam. For I tell you frankly that if these hoodlums bust up the work that’s been already done, we may as well kiss our whole deal good- by. There’ll be no money to start in over again.” This sobered them down. To have gone through all this turmoil and risk, only to have their dreams of plunder end in smoke! That was unthinkable. Finally, it was determined after con- siderable discussion that the sheriff must organize a special force of so- called deputies to guard the dam until the Governor could be appealed to and troops sent to quell the expected out- break. But since on this occasion, he would be opposed by the people of his own bailiwick, it would be necessary for him to recruit a force of mercenaries from among the residents of Bridger County. He hurried out, and by spending the rest of the night in hard riding, man- aged to gather up by morning a hun- dred fighting men, willing to take on the job at three dollars a day. By noon they commenced in twos and threes to straggle in toward the canion—one-time Mexican revolution- aries who had fought under Villa and Zapata and had later drifted across the ~ border, others who bore a pretty well atthenticated reputation as bandits and cattle rustlers, also a sprinkling of toughs and rum runners from the na- (EO) NOOLKS AMG (©)