Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

THE FOXY GUY. ain't that kind of a guy. I'll stick, Vic.” Vic Jasey and “Snooty” Slusser were deceived; The Fox knew that, and his sharp features hardened. Try to play The Fox for a fall guy, would they? Thought he didn’t know they had it framed to squeal on him if the job failed to-night, did they? They figured they could frame him easily, and get clear themselves, because he was wanted for murder back East, while they were only - second rate “pox” crackers. They thought he was asleep, - did they, when Vic had come in the room last night, and whispered to Snooty Slusser that he’d overheard talk of young Alf Lowring’s starting to-night to look for a bunch of gold hidden near a gravel claim, which was located and described on a map the young guy’s father had drawn just before he had been waylaid and shot to death. So they thought they could outsmart The Fox! Well, just wait. Jus-s-s-t wait! That’s all! There’d be the three of them in the hills together with this gsold—when they'd found it. He grinned and patted the auto- matic pistol, flat against his lean hip. There’d be three of them, two second- rate dubs and The Fox, fastest gun- man in Chi. Then there’d be only one. And that one The Fox! | Suddenly there came the ring of a shod hoof striking rock, somewhere on the trail up the side of Crazy Horse Cafion, and they stiffened to immo- bility. They listened intently and heard it again; this time accompanied by the voice of a man. “That’s him!’ Vic Jasey’s tone was excitedly exultant.. “ Now. re- member; don’t use your gats! There’s men camped up ahead of us a ways, and if they heard shots they might come bustin’ inta this. Just knock him kickin’ all nice and quiet with the rocks yeh got, go through him and get the map. Then we heave him over the cafion and beat it for the gold.” 707 A dark shape loomed up between the two towering masses of granite from which the pass took its name. It was a mule and was followed closely by two others, a few feet apart. ‘Then came a young man, slender, youthful in the way he swung up the steep trail. “Get moving faster, you Jerry,” he called cheerily. ‘“‘ Think we got all night to—” Abruptly he ceased speaking. Whether he had heard something that alarmed him, some suspicious sound, he did not know. But something had startled him; perhaps it was trail in- stinct, an inborn sense of intuition. He stopped short, and in one swift, dragging move of his arm, threw a gun out of its holster and held it before him, at the hip, the barrel swinging gently from side to side. The men behind their bowlders did not see the gun; perhaps they started their attack as it was drawn. As one man, the three rose from behind their rocks, their hands lifted high above their heads. eral rocks found the mark. The young man fell like a slaugh- tered steer. The only sound he made was a suddenly expelled breath that was like a sharp grunt. But his alert fingers contracted as the rock struck him and the heavy-calibered gun fired once. Its roaring message was made loud- er by the rock walls of the pass. Echoes of the shot cracked far out over Crazy Horse Cafion. The Fox sneered viciously. “ There goes your slick plans, Vic. Yeh didn’t want any shootin’, did yeh?” “Shut up!” big Vic Jasey snarled ferociously. “‘ You think you’re so foxy! Get busy and help frisk this bird! Yeh wanta stay here all night?” But a most expert search failed to disclose any papers other than a book of wheat straws. Then, far ahead, up the trail cecal the pass, a man’s voice was heard: “Hey, down there! Hello-o-o!” Then Gomichbooks At least one of the sev- 6)