The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

314 tied under his pony’s belly. Then three ruffians took their places and three eager rifles were raised. But first Lopez had an idea. “Buenos aqui?” he called out to Winne- muka. “Savoy buenos aqui?’ There would yet be a chance for him if he led them to good water. It was the offer of a reprieve on the brink of death. But, looking into the little bores of three rifles, Winnemuka-shook his head. He was an Indian, and there were many things he did not know. But he knew how to die. There was water, pure and sweet and sparkling, less than a mile from where they stood. But Winnemuka knew how to die. Borax Brown was his friend. The firing squad were impatient and not disposed to parley. At the end of a very brief moment Lopez spoke and the three rifles were again brought to bear. But the guns did not speak. For at that instant there was the crack of another rifle somewhere to the south and Winnemuka’s pony jumped to one side, sank to his knees, then rolled over on his side, pinioning one of his rider’s legs under him. There were other shots, then Al Truman and his partner rushed up, covering the renegades and disarming them. Winne- muka was disentangled from his pony. @ THE ARGOSY. Truman had seen from a distance what was about to take place and, remembering the Indian’s visit at Barstow, a great light had come to him. There wasn’t time to reach the scene of the intended execution and argue the matter. So he had drawn a bead on the pony as a diversion. He didn’t’ know as yet all the ins and outs of what was doing, but it was safe to save the Indian’s life anyway. Their water supply had given out under suspicious cir- cumstances, but a case of canned tomatoes had come in handy as a substitute, and they had not suffered greatly, though canned to- matoes will not run an automobile. The three luckless seekers of other men’s gold were now bound securely, and after Winnemuka had suddenly remembered where there was a spring of fresh water not far away, all parties, would-be robbers, borax men and guide proceeded to Borax Flats; the men to accomplish their errand, the suspects to have their cases inquired into and the old Indian to be properly and sratefully received by his friend Borax Brown. And, oh yes! The suspects were given nothing but alkali water to drink on the journey, Truman arguing that, whatever the degree of their_guilt, this much punish- ment could not go amiss. SONG OF THE SUN-DIAL OSES, radiant of luster, Round about the dial cluster; Ah, happy dial, With thine fair espial! Then the ruthless winter blows, And where, I prithee, is the rose? Buried deep beneath the snows! Ah, unhappy dial! Lovers in the scented weather At the dial meet together; Ah, happy dial, With thine fair espial! Then the ruthless winter blows, But lovers are not like the rose; What care they for deep, deep snows? , Happy, happy dial! Sennett Stephens. EOTMNICLOOO (Cc SS (C@