Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

504 Out of the corner of his eyes, Quinn watched the imprisoned man, as he squatted on his hunkers and ate with gluttonous relish. He wolfed the meat from the fry pan and guzzled the cof- fee from the spout of the steaming pot, and having eaten his fill, he gave a satisfied grunt, then unceremonious- ly dumped the remainder into the coals. “Oh, shucks,” he cried with well- simulated regret, “that’s too bad. I clean forgot ye. Ye see, I bin so used to eatin’ alone and dumpin’ what was left for so long, that it’s got to be a habit. That meat was tarnal good, too; tender’s a chicken.” Toon said nothing, but in the Sty- gian depths of his eyes glowed an un- holy light, and his body flushed with anger. [f Quinn would only come near enough— Quinn snagged off a generous hunk of tobacco and rolled the weed into his capacious cheek, where it bulged like that of a chipmunk’s pouch. And as if not content with that, he proceeded to fill a villainous-looking “ bulldog ” with black shag. | Tobacco is almost a necessity with some men, and Toon scarcely knew which he desired more, food or a good smoke. He was suffering keenly, now, and those spots had come back to play their fantastic tricks before his eyes. Quinn swabbed out his fry pan with a bough and set it on the fire to soften the grease, when it slid off on the near side; and Toon gathered his muscles. Still humming, cheek bulging, the pipe stem clenched between his teeth, Quinn stepped around the fireplace to retrieve the spider, when the Indian’s muscular leg swung out and his moccasined foot almost buried itself in Quinn’s paunch. ““Oo-agh!”’ he grunted as he folded up. Like a madman, Toon flung himself to the length of his tether in an attempt to follow up his advantage, but in his agony Quinn had rolled just out of reach. Nap caught up one of the shel- ter poles and struck, but it was rotten, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. and before he could find a stronger one, Quinn had realized his danger and scrambled out of the way. With his hands pressing against his stomach, his breath coming in sobbing gasps, Quinn gagged on the cud that the sudden blow had caused him to swallow. Long he lay there, regaining his breath, then he went into a parox- ysm of nausea. Suddenly he leaped to his feet and caught up his rifle. Through a haze, his head swimming, Toon saw the swinish eyes gleam wickedly, saw the dingy finger slowly crook the trigger— then came a blanket of merciful black- ness. V. WHEN he came to, he lay as he had fallen. Quinn sat on the other side of the fire, holding his shaggy head with his palms. Blue Chin had been a mighty sick man during the twenty-minute inter- val. He turned a sickly countenance toward the Quoddy, as Toon groaned and sat up. “Come to, have ye? Well, I ain’t kiddin’ ye when I say that that came dam’ near bein’ yer last snooze. Ye cer- t’nly had my goat for a minute. But since I’ve had time to git my wind back, I gotta admit that I’d ’a’ done the same thing, if I was you and you was me. Sure would. But shootin’ would ’a’ put ye out o’ yer misery too soon. Dod rot yer pelt, interest on that kick is goin’ to be heavy, and I don’t mean perhaps.” Toon eyed his tormentor for a mo- ment, then there spewed from his bruised lips a torrent of abuse. He called Quinn everything, and likened him to every despicable animal he could think of; he reviled his ancestors, and ended by calling on the Deity to con- demn to eternal perdition the future generations of Quinn. His voice rose and fell in his denun- ciation, and he threw every bit of barbed contempt, venom and scorn into (eC) NOOLKS ANIC (C@