Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

208 “But yuh—” began Solitaire again. “Never mind! I won’t listen—you put those things down and get off this ranch at once. I’ve a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.” Up to that moment Solitaire had found the situation amusing. But he realized that the girl was terribly ex- cited, and while he was willing to grant that she displayed considerable bravery in facing an armed man in the spirit that she was now doing, he was be- ginning to be a little annoyed. The fact that she appeared to con- sider him a thief who would enter her house and steal her food was far from pleasing to his vanity. He was quite sure that she was merely bluffing in her threat to use the weapon which she now held in her hand. “ Now, listen!” he said, impatiently, moving toward her. The gun in Helen Shaw’s hand roared, and Solitaire felt a bullet whis- tle by his cheek. He halted abruptly and stood staring, dumfounded with amazement. ‘Then he frowned angrily; this girl was entirely too reckless with a gun. Yet he could not help admir- ing her grit. “Get out of here!’’ she said hysteri- cally. ‘Go on, or I'll aim straighter next time!” For a brief instant the puncher hesi- tated; then something in the flaming gaze of the blue eyes told him he had better obey orders. Reluctantly he put down the beans and bacon and moved toward the door. As he reached it he paused and looked back. ‘TI came here tuh help yuh,” he said slowly. “T told you not to talk!” said Helen, and she was trembling now. ‘ Will you leave or must I shoot again?” Solitaire made no attempt to answer as he backed slowly through the door. He was raging inwardly now, for he felt that this girl had made a fool of him. That was the trouble with wom- en; you tried to help them and they turned against you and declared you ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. an enemy before they even gave you a chance to explain. As he moved away from the house the girl followed close behind him, still covering him with her revolver, her eyes blazing. He turned and started to speak as he reached the spot where the little gray stood patiently waiting, then he frowned and shook his head. If she did not want his friendship he was not going to try and force him- self upon her. He mounted reluctant- ly. It went against the grain for a man like the whistling waddy who had been his own boss all of his adventur- ing life to receive orders from any one, most of all this slender girl. “Get off this ranch just as fast as you can travel,” said Helen. “‘ I mean what I say!” Again the gun in her hand barked, and a bullet tore through Solitaire’s heavy black Stetson. He did not linger any longer. This girl was crazy; she was likely to kill him at any moment. He touched the gray and was off at a gallop. As he rode away he began to whistle loudly. Helen Shaw gave a start as she heard the musical notes. It was the same strange little sad tune that she had heard the man who had rescued her from Lomond whistling as he stood in the shadows outside the win- dow of the Circle T. This stranger then was the one who had saved her from the clutches of the white-faced lawyer and the two strange servants of Major Marsh, per- haps the same man that she had seen halt the sheriff and the deputy as she had glanced back there on the road leading from Festival. And she had called him a thief, had driven him away with bullets. Helen started to speak as she stared after the retreating horseman, but no words issued from her lips. With a low moan she turned and rushed into the house, and dropped her head upon her hands as she slumped down at a chair by the kitchen table sobbing hys- terically. AA JOO com (C <S) (F@