The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

¢ 300 | the long coat to his hips and came away with a pair of derringers. “Oh, you measly, blockheaded crowd of fake Westerners!” he roared. “Have I got to put up with this? There’s every blamed thing in the old camp but action! Do something! By the jumping horned-toads, do something quick or I'll cut loose!” No one had dreamed—unless it was Rob- bins—that such a bomb had been brought into camp under that eminently respectable high hat. Now the bomb had exploded, and the Forty-Niners proceeded to do something. Colonel Chet Hungerford led the activ- ity, and was first to get behind the pro- tecting walls of the hotel. “Go it, judge!” yelled the delighted Billy Vince from the doorway of the honkatonk; “wake ’em up! Give ’em fits!” “Come back here!” shouted the judge. “Since when have the old timers gone gun- shy! Come back here, you crawling false- alarms! How long would a stove-pipe hat and a boiled shirt last in a regular mining camp? And here you put up with me in all the fuss and frills of the effete East! Is this your idea of the right thing?” Then, knocking off his high hat with the muzzle of one of the revolvers, he kicked it at the bear and wearily put away the derringers.’ “Maybe this is the best you could do, Robbins,” he said sadly, “but I’m disap- pointed. Take me to the place where I’m to stay. What I want is less ceremony and more spirit. -I thought you understood that.” Robbins, vastly chagrined, pushed his arm through that of the old gentleman and led him away in the direction of the house reserved for his use and comfort. As the two got out of sight, Old Jack Lightning-that-Strikes grunted, made a few forcible remarks in Ute, and appropriated the gold-headed cane. He tried to get the hat, but the bear had crushed it in both paws and refused to give it up. While the two fought for_ the bit of demoralized headgear, the Forty-Niners slowly recovered from their overwhelming surprise. ‘So that’s the judge!” wheezed Hunger- ford, dazedly. “By gad, but he changed mighty sudden from a nice, respectable old gentleman into a fire-eater! He even had Robbins going! Well, well! I wonder what'll happen now? Pablo, you and THE ARGOSY. Manuel tote the trunk and the grip right along after the judge. If he wants them, and doesn’t have them, like enough he’ll start another rough-house. One spell of that kind will do me!” The bewildered Forty-Niners, conscious that they had somehow failed Robbins in a crisis, went their several ways gloomily. Old Jack, the Ute, seemed to be the hap- piest man in the camp. With the half- ruined hat pulled down over his ropy hair, and with the cane in one hand, he started proudly for his dug-out, leading the bear. CHAPTER V. LINKED NUGGETS. EEVES had been an amused witness of the incidents attending the arrival of the judge in Nugget Notch. As a close listener and observer, he was now able to hazard a. few guesses concerning the new- comer. ‘He was acquainted with Rattlesnake City in its early days, Smedders,” said Reeves to the cowboy, who arrived in front of the hotel after helping Catamount Cal put away the mules, “and he is either a partner of Robbins in this move to put the old camp again on the map, or else Rob- bins is merely his agent and looking after the work for him.” “But whyever was the ole camp woke up at all?” queried Smedders. “What’s your notion of the ole boy’s game in carryin’ out sech a plumb foolish proposition? D’you reckon he’s locoed? He sure acted that- away.” ‘Whatever else he may be, Smedders,” declared Reeves positively, “it’s a cinch the judge is not locoed.” “Anyway, he’s purty well years.”’ ‘Sixty-five, I should say.” along in _— ‘‘He’d have to be all o’ that to sabe much. about Rattlesnake City in the days when it was right lively. But nimble—wow! Honest, I never knowed a man o’ his years to be so smart. From ’way East, d’you reckon?” “Possibly.” ‘““What-all. was he disapp’inted about? He wrecked the high cady and threw away his walkin’ stick, and then moseyed off with Robbins like he’d lost his last friend. Amazin’, I call it. Can’t be he wanted the Notchers to hector him, or cut up rough! COPMICGLOOOKS (C@)