Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

ROP: NECKTIES. Just then we hear a stream of cuss words from inside the house, and Ren- wood tears out to us without his hat, a bunch of papers in one hand that he shakes above his head like a mad- man. ‘““There’s something crooked here,” he roars. “That document Leary comes out to the ranch for is gone. He must have been here—or some one else stole it.” 3 The old lady isn’t afraid to face him. She walks up to her employer, and shakes a brown, withered finger under his nose. _““*T’ve been cook on this yer ranch and some others for some titne—but I ain’t been called a liar and a thief yet, and I won't stand for it,” she storms. “Leary waren’t at the ranch after he left yesterday, and nobody has been monkeying round your papers, not that I know about.” Renwood’s eves narrows, and I am sure that he is itching for action. But my rep doesn’t appeal to him, none, so he uses polite tactics first. “Mr. Flint,” he says, “aside from my girl and Carrie no one was out here at the ranch yesterday except you and your bunkie, Shorty. “T hopes you take it nice; but would you oblige my peace of mind by con- senting to a search?” Here was where I could help my- self by playing the innocent. “Mr. Renwood,” I says, “I would not take that as friendly from every- body, but I can appreciate your feeling in losing a foreman and a_ val'able document in the same time. I obliges you by going into the bunk house, and you can go through me if you like.” ~ “Thanks,” he said abruptly, and we ‘adjourns to the bunk house, where three of Renwood’s cow-punchers are laying around resting up. I takes off my boots, throws my hat on a cot, and stands with my gun belt in one hand and the butt of the weapon in easy position to be reached. Being searched is one thing, but allowing 691 yerself to be disarmed is entirely dif- ferent. I thinks I am among friends, if sus- picious ones, but I ain’t going to walk in a trap without my shooting iron handy. You may assume they searched me from head to foot, even tickling the soles of my feet to see that I ain’t got a paper concealed in my socks. I took it all plumb patient, figuring that was the best way to do. After they’d exhausted every place a paper might be hid they gives me up as a bad job, and I slings my belt around my middle and puts my boots back on agin. ‘““T wouldn’t do this for every one,” I said to Renwood. ‘I hopes you un- derstand that friendliness, not force, makes me go through with this search.” “Yes, I does,” he says bitter like, “and I apologize. There is a mystery here that is too deep for me, up to the present time, and when I solve it there is going to be some one to pay. I have been double crossed, all right, but I just can’t figure how.” As I left the bunk room he draws the three cow-punchers close to him and starts whispering, but I can’t hear what he says, and knows that [ am not meant to. A few minutes later, as 1 am sitting on a bench talking to Mary, I see three men on horseback streak toward Gorge City, and I bet a dollar to two bits that my guess is correct. Those hombres has been instructed, I thinks, to ride like blazes to Gorge City and in some way search Shorty and the room we occupies at the hotel. Renwood comes out and watches me closely to see if the departure of his men means anything to me. Now, | observes, if I makes an excuse and tries to leave and beat ’em to town, it will shore look as if ] wanted to warn my partner. I must trust to Shorty having been bright enough to hide that paper where Gomichbooks (E@)