The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

BIG BUFFALO’S LAST BATTLE. little chunks of cheese wrapped up in t’backer wrappin’ like he got here, it'll be all right. ‘That’s what Chief Big Buffalo he says. I'll be here to-morrow night to git ’em—sée? ” One Horse walked out sternly, de- terminedly. He moved just as if he would have walked right through the sergeant if he hadn’t moved out of the way. It was the shortest speech One Horse ever had been known to make since he acquired facility in two lan- guages. Mrs. Tree looked at the sergeant ; the sergeant looked at the ridge pole, a deep expression in the wrinkles of his eyes. She believed that Jennie was captive in the tents of Chief Big Buf- falo, and that limburger was to be her ransom. The sergeant believed like- wise, and she was not free to resent it when she saw a gleam of triumph on his face. Mrs. Tree appealed to him as a mother, and the sergeant answered like aman. He fastenéd his brown derby firmly upon his head. When he put it on that way it worked with his scalp muscles as he chewed his tobacco, un- dulating a little, like the hat of*a man seen above the tops of corn. ‘Together they hurried out in search of five bricks of limburger cheese. They found that limburger is a deli- eacy of civilization. It does not go with the flag, like bottled beer and headache- powders, but comes a long way after it, with paved streets and ice-cream cones. There was no limburger in Co- manche. But the sergeant remembered a sa- loonkeeper in Cheyenne who had been his friend when the soldier was sta- tioned at Fort Russell. And to him the sergeant sent a telegram, requesting im- mediate shipment by express of five bricks of limburger. ‘“ The older the better,’ added the sergeant, the conclu- ding line coming to him like an inspira- tion. Next morning there came an answer from the man in Cheyenne. “Shipped goods this morning,” it a A 929 said; so there was nothing to do but wait. The package should arrive on the afternoon train, and there was the hazard of wreck and delay. It was a nervous day in camp, but in the course of the afternoon the lim- burger came, as limbtirger will come to any man who telegraphs for it, if his credit is good. ‘The man who has it in hand always appears anxious to pass it along to somebody else. One Horse arrived silently after dark, reached out silently, and took the package. He didn’t open his mouth to let out a single word, but racked off toward the hills with all speed, the cheese in a gtinny=sack across his shoulder. It was plain that he had a horse tied out in the brush somewhere. About that hour a goggle - eyed sheep-herder pulled himself up out of the sand behind a tent saloon and be- gan to feel where his money used to be. It wasn’t there; but he didn’t ex- pect it wotld be, so that didn’t worry him at all. But there was something else that had been entrusted to him for deliv- ery, and that he had safe enough in his inside pocket when he arrived the night before. Now it was gone along with the money. The sheep-herder was troubled about that. Anyway, he’d make an effort to find the lady it was intended for and tell her that he had it once, but that it had escaped. He slouched around toward the tent + where Mrs. Tree dnd the men were looking off in the general direction One Horse had taken a few minutes after the disappearance of that re- markable young man. On the way he met one of his own kind, a new arrival, with a little bale of money stitched in the inside pocket of his greasy coat. It is remarkable what precautions a sheep-herder will take to pfeserve and protect his money where there is nobody to: take it from hirh. But the mintite he reaches the place of bright lights he rips out the stitches and carries the hunk of bills EOPMIELOOKS (E(0)