Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

TWO-GUN MAGIC. Another thing which puzzled Soli- taire was why Helen Shaw’s outfit had not come to her aid. He felt sure that they had learned what had occurred by this time, for the news of the girl’s having resisted arrest when accused of murder must have been known by many others beside Mintz and Mac- Gill and Willis. “ Fine bunch her outfit must be,” re- marked Solitaire aloud as he rode along. “ Lettin’ a girl play th’ hand alone!’ He shook his head. “I don’t get it. From what Willis said last night, her foreman, Buck Larkins, is a right considerable jasper.” He found himself remembering the picture the girl had presented as she had stood there in the big room in the Circle T the night before. “Helen Shaw, eh? That’s a right pretty name; it sure is!” Stevens grinned; the idea of a lone wanderer like himself finding a girl’s name even interesting amused him. “TI acts like { don’t recollect I ever done before. Me gettin’ interested in a girl.” He laughed aloud in the bright, warm sunshine of the day, and had any one who knew the grim, taciturn man, known as the whistling waddy, seen him then, they would have rea- lized with surprise that he was young, not more than thirty at the most. * Ain’t that something! I better go easy, or I’ll be buyin’ up all them fancy novelties for ladies that feller Mintz is sellin’.” He drew the spool of thread out of his pocket. Carefully he examined the fat salesman’s gift. Finally he nod- ded. “Maybe she’d like that,” he re- marked, as he put it carefully away again. “ Women is right fond of them sewing things. Reckon [Pll give it tuh her if I ever sees her again.” Solitaire had ridden around the town of Festival, for he had paused long enough before leaving for the Circle T the night before to receive explicit directions from Mintz regard- 203 ing the location of Helen Shaw's ranch. Now he found that the surrounding country was gradually changing. It began to grow more and more hilly, and finally he found himself riding through a rocky defile. He was fol- lowing a faint trail that twisted and turned like the path of a snake as it wound around large, crude-shaped bowlders that were taller than both man and horse together. Stevens observed his surroundings closely, for he felt it might be wise to have a knowledge of the vicinity firmly fixed in his mind. When one was playing against uncertain odds such in- formation sometimes came in handy. Finally he rode out of the rocky section and saw ahead of him the well kept low buildings of the Cross Bar J Ranch. The first thing that he no- ticed was a lack of animation about the place. Far in the distance he caught sight of a number of cattle, while in the wooden-fenced corral half a dozen cow ponies grazed listlessly, but there was no sign of human inhabi- tant. At the ranch house, a low adobe building, Stevens reined his horse and dismounted. He walked to the open front door and knocked, but received no answer. “Sorta looks like there’s nobody home,” murmured Solitaire, after he had knocked loudly and_ repeatedly. “ Reckon it won’t do any harm tuh go in and take a little look around.” Fitting his actions to his words, the whistling waddy entered. Slowly he went through the rooms on the single floor of the house. He found them ex- ceptionally well furnished, but vacant of anything human. One of the doors which he opened revealed a bedroom that, from the feminine touches about it, mutely be- spoke the usual presence of the girl. This was the case with the whole house —there were feminine indications all about it: flowers in a vase, many little (E@) MICLOOOKS (C@)