The Argosy, December 1905 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

JIM DEXTER—CATTLEMAN. you this money. As a matter of fact, I dispute your claim.” “Then why do you give me the gold?” “T’m not going to give it to you. If you choose to take it from the table, I shall not stretch out a hand to hinder. But the moment you leave this house [ shall run to the door and tell my men that you have stolen six hundred dollars from me and are making off with it. You may fight, Jim Dexter, for you are that sort of a man; certainly you will try to get away. In any event, if you attempt to leave here with the money you will be killed. You cannot prove, in any court of the land, that I stole your steers, but I can prove you stole six hundred dollars in gold from me and were making off with it when you were shot down by my men. I wonder if the case is sufficiently clear to you? ” Dexter was alive to the technicality. Tilting his chair back against the wall, he folded his arms and studied the grin- ning face of Kalispel. “Tf you wish to receipt the bill and leave the gold,” said Kalispel, “ you may go from here unmolested.” There was but one window in the room, and Dexter could gaze out of it and see his horse standing patiently with drooping reins. None of the cow- boys were looking in, nor were they to be seen in that diréction. “You are not to be trusted, Kalis- pel,” said Dexter slowly. “ This is a very pretty plot of yours and I have walked into it open-eyed. But how am I to know that if I sign the receipt and leave the gold you- will not carry out your original plan? ” “ At a word from me the cowboys and even the two men who are painting the house will retire up the Bad-Ax, leaving your way clear. It is up to the Honor- able Jim,” added Kalispel facetiously. “ What is he going to do?” ~ Dexter threw his chair forward and got up slowly. It looked as though he was beaten. Kalispel was already en- joying his triumph. Bringing his chair to the table, Dexter sat down opposite his enemy. “Give me the bill,” said he, taking a lead pencil from his pocket. 57 “T thought so, Jim,” chuckled Kalis- pel. ‘ Discretion is the better part of valor any day, and you know how to be discreet when the odds are against you. Here’s your bill,” and Kalispel took the paper from the table drawer and swept the jingling bag back into it. Dexter re- ceipted the bill. As he returned the pencil to his coat pocket, he grasped and brought out one of the navy sixes, leaning across the table and holding the point of the weapon within a foot of Kalispel’s breast. The triumphant expression did not fade from Kalispel’s face nor did he make any movement to draw one of his own six-shooters. He well understood how disastrous a belligerent act would be, under the circumstances, and he be- lieved in his heart, that this was his enemys last hopeless gasp in the toils that chafed his soul. “Well, well,’ murmured Kalispel ironically. “* What do you hope to ac- complish by that, eh? I’m at my home ranch, with my cowboys all around me. The Honorable Jim has a bee in his bonnet! ” “Put that bag of money out here on the table,” snapped Jim, a glint in his eyes. “Why, man, you agreed “T agreed to nothing. I’ve receipted the bill and now I want my money.” It was borne in on Kalispel at that moment that Dexter was in deadly ear- nest. He was attempting some counter stroke, hard to fathom, but which, to Dexter at least, gave promise of suc- cess. Kalispel leaped up with an outh. “Lower your voice! ” Dexter warned him. “One word above the ordinary tone in which we have been conversing will be my signal to shoot. Now that you are on your feet, put your hands in front of you and turn around.” “Dexter, youre a fool!” grunted Kalispel. “ You'll find that this ranch is a hornets’ nest before you are done with me.” “Turn your back,” repeated Dexter. “You heard what I said, and I am in no mood to repeat my orders.” I) Kalispel obeyed, and Dexter, with his COnmmicloooks (C@