Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

196 thread back. gift.” “All right.” The whistling waddy grinned as he thrust the thread in his “No, you keep it; it’s a pocket. “ Thanks—how about a little drink?” “I shouldn’t say no,” remarked Mintz. “ Sure not,” said Stevens as they or- dered; then as the barkeeper moved away again he spoke in a low tone. “Say, did yuh ever hear of a jasper named Major Marsh around here?” “Yes,” the salesman nodded. ‘“ He owns the Circle T ranch.’ He, too, lowered his voice. “‘ And they say he’s rich—that he has fifty thousand dollars in gold hidden somewhere on _ the lace!” “Fifty thousand hidden on_ th’ ranch,” said Solitaire softly, beginning to see a good reason for an unscrupu- lous person to commit murder. “I see; know anything about a tall, strange looking hombre named Lomond?” “Lomond!” exclaimed Mintz, a startled expression passing over his face. “ Suchaman! Like a ghost, he is—with his white face and his staring eyes. They say that Guido Lomond is a lawyer, but I don’t know—I don’t know!” “Yuh think he might be somethin’ else?” asked Stevens. Mintz started to speak, then his ex- pression changed. His mouth remained wide open as he stood staring nervous- ly at the door. Solitaire glanced in that direction. A big, heavy-set man stood in the door- way glaring about the room, a sullen scowl upon his face as he chewed viciously upon an unlighted cigar. As he caught sight of Stevens he stared at the whistling waddy intently. For an instant he eyed him up and down insultingly, then uttered a short laugh and moved back through the door and disappeared. As he did so the salesman breathed a sigh of relief. Solitaire turned to him, his eyes hard. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Who was that?” he asked softly. “Hime” The fat man _ glanced about him anxiously and lowered his voice, “That’s Blocky MacGill, the feller I was telling you about. He’s boss of this town, because the Chief is back of him, and such a boss! He runs the sheriff, and the law feller ac- cused that poor little girl of murder!” “What?” Solitaire was startled. “The sheriff accused a girl of mur- der?” “Sure.” Mintz nodded. ‘ She got away all right, but MacGill he sent the sheriff and one of his deputies after her.” The drummer shook his head. “Such a shame it is, and she such a pretty girl. But everybody around here does what MacGill says because they’re afraid of him and the Chief.” “T’ll see yuh later,” said Solitaire suddenly, “I got business with this Blocky MacGill!’’ He turned away, whistling softly, and there was a warning of danger in the sound. Mintz shook his head slow- ly as he watched him go. “ Me—! wouldn’t want business like that!’ remarked the fat salesman to himself. “ The profit is all with the undertaker!’ CHAPTER IV. WHEN SHADOWS FLIT. LOCKY MacGILL was in an evil humor. At the moment he bore a sullen grouch against the whole world, and he was not making the slightest effort to keep the fact a se- cret. His was not an amicable disposition at its best, and in his present mood he was far from a genial companion, for he possessed the type of temper which causes its owner to rave and roar on and on until his anger finally dies away overcome by its own exertion. Jake Willis, who was MacGill’s fa- vorite henchman, realized this as he sat patiently listening to the big man COPMICGLOOKS (C@