Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

204 trifles that a woman’s hand had made more attractive by placing there. Stevens’s inspection finally ended with the kitchen. Here he found there was a large supply of food, and the dishes which still remained upon a long table in the center of the room were evidence of a heavy meal for at least six people. “Huh! Right funny there ain’t no one around.” The two-gun man shook his head as he looked about him. “Maybe I better look down in the bunk house. Fine bunch of jaspers this here outfit must be! They oughta be raisin’ hell plenty with the Chief and MacGill and that there bunch of low- down pups what represents th’ law round here.” He left the house and walked slowly down to the bunk house, a small adobe building about a hundred feet away. As he reached the door, which stood open, as had that of the ranch house, a sharp voice from within growled sud- denly: “ Put ’em up, stranger!” Solitaire raised his hands high above his head as he moved slowly into the room. He stood staring at a husky light-haired man who sat on the edge of a bunk covering him with a re- volver. As he inspected the other, Ste- vens decided that he liked the looks of the blond man. “Yuh got me wrong,” he remarked with a faint smile. ‘The dove of peace is a roarin’ devil compared tuh me. There ain’t no reason for yuh tuh draw down on me. I’m right friendly like tuh the Cross Bar J outfit, and I reckon yuh must be one of them.” “Sure, yuh’re just dyin’ tuh kiss us all!” The blond man’s tone grew hard. “Listen, feller, if yuh think I’m gonna let MacGill put somethin’ over on me by sendin’ a stranger around here, yuh got another guess comin’, that’s all. An’ that goes for that slimy under- cover bird th’ Chief, too.” “T still says yuh got me wrong,” said Solitaire quietly. “I ain’t run- % . ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. nin’ with MacGill none, nor th’ Chief either. Tuh my mind th’ whole pack of ’em could crawl under a snake they are so low, an’ th’ rattler wouldn’t even know it.” “That sounds all right,” said the other. “ But I got yuh covered, an’ yuh’re gonna stay that way until I finds out right considerable about yuh!” “Sure, I ain’t blamin’ yuh none.” Stevens nodded. “ Maybe it might ease yuhr feelin’s if I was tuh give yuh my guns.” His tone grew hard. “ But I want tuh know who yuh are first. Yuh’re one of the Cross Bar J outfit, ain’t yuh?” “T don’t know as it’s any of your business, but I am! I’m th’ foreman; Larkins is my name. An’ who th’ devil are yuh?” ‘““ Solitaire Stevens; some folks call me th’ Whistling Waddy.” “Th’ Whistlin’ Waddy!” exclaimed Larkins, a note of respect in his tone. “Tve heard of yuh.” “Uhuh,” remarked Solitaire. “* And yuh’re Buck Larkins. Ain’t any rela- tion tuh Red Larkins, are yuh? Last I seen of Red, he was ridin’ for th’ Dia- mond Bar down in south Texas. I worked for that outfit for awhile.” “ Relation, huh!” ‘The blond man’s face grew less stern. “ Red’s my brother, that’s all. So yuh’re th’ Whis- tlin’ Waddy, eh? Why didn’t yuh say so? Red wrote me about yuh one time —said yuh was a shootin’ two-gun fool, but that’s just his little way of sayin’ yuh was all there!” Larkins put his gun back in his holster and held out his hand. ‘ Sorta looks like I got yuh wrong, Stevens. I’m apologizin’!’ “Aw, that’s all right.” Solitaire laughed as he took the other’s hand and shook it warmly. “From what I learned last night, yuh got to be right careful.” 3 “What yuh learned last night?’ Larkins looked -hard at Stevens. “What do yuh mean?” The whistling waddy did not an- swer. He was staring down at the CONIC OOO KS (E@)