Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

TWO-GUN MAGIC, rave. When MacGill started to talk it was best to let him finish without attempting to stop the flow of words, which consisted mostly of a torrent of profanity. Now the two men sat in the sheriff’s office, which was located in a rough wooden shack a few doors down the street from the Full-House Saloon. Behind the shack was a much more substantially constructed building that contained no windows, and a heavy door that was barred from the outside. This was Festival’s jail, but as the ruthless element who ruled the town believed that dead men were less trou- ble than prisoners, it was seldom occu- pied. MacGill finally ceased his wild rant- ing, and for a moment the two men sat in silence, their faces clearly outlined beneath the mellow glow of a large oil lantern that hung suspended above their heads by a wire attached to the rafters of the shack’s roof. Willis, a thin, hawk faced man with a twisted lip and little, close set eyes that were so dark they appeared black, sat upon an up-turned wooden box busily engaged in rolling a cigarette. MacGill was sprawled comfortably in a chair back of the rough wooden table which the sheriff used for a desk. His heavy-booted legs rested upon the table top regardless of a collection of official-looking papers beneath them. When the big man had been silent for a few seconds now, chewing upon the unlighted cigar which was thrust into one corner of his mouth, he ran the fingers of his left hand through his heavy mop of gray hair. That was a sign to those who knew him that ~Blocky MacGill had something on his mind. “Funny Hagen an’ th’ deputy ain’t got back yet,” he remarked. “ They should ’a’ been here long ago.” “Tt sure is,” agreed Willis slowly. He placed his newly-made cigarette in his mouth and lit it, then shook his head. “ Still that Shaw girl has a right 197 considerable hoss an’ she’s a ridin’ fool.” “Yea, | know she is,” grunted Mac- Gill. He frowned angrily. ‘A fine sheriff Hagen turned out tuh be—let- ting her get away like that! You wait; he better watch his step or I'll be put- tin’ some one else in office when th’ election comes around.” Yow ll be puttin’ some one else in office.” Willis grinned sardonically. “T reckon the Chief would sure love tuh hear yuh say that!’ “Never mind about him,” said Mac- Gil. “I’m runnin’ this town and everything around here, ain’t 1?” “Sure, but yuh takes yuhr orders from th’ Chief and pass ’em on, don’t yuh—yjust th’ same as I does with the orders | gets from you for the rest of the outfit. But I been hearin’ things lately and we got tuh watch out.” “Watch out?” MacGill looked at the other man intently. ‘ What do you mean?” “ Just what I said; some of the folks around here are kinda champin’ at th’ bit. Some of these hombres are a lot like horses; they go along peaceful like for a long time, and then something happens that they don’t like and they bust out bucking regardless.” “Think I don’t know that?” Mac- Gill laughed. “ Listen, Jake, the Chief made me th’ boss around here, and I’m gonna stay boss.” “Sure. But they seems tuh think yuh been runnin’ things a bit too high- handed lately.” Willis frowned. “I don’t know "bout this business with th’ Shaw girl being such a good play. I ain’t so sure th’ Chief is gonna like the idea when he gets back.” “‘That’s my lookout, ain’t it?” de- manded MacGill angrily. ‘‘ When I want yuh tuh play my hand I'll tell yuh; get me? As for Helen Shaw, she killed Denver Hopkins, didn’t she?” “Of course she did,” said Willis soothingly; then he sat up and glanced toward the open window at the side COPMICLOOOKS (E@)