The Argosy, Vol. 82, No. 3 — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

THE OLD. WEST I could not have my fling in the Old West, I would remain a melancholy, disheartened old fool to the end of my days. Then I had the Big Idea, and I gave Amos Robbins a large check, sent him beyond the Missouri and told him to work the thing out. “The Idea was this: Repair Rattlesnake City; rejuvenate it with a choice assort- ment of Old Westerners; let the mining camp life of the ’sixties and ’seventies ebb and flow in the ways I had known, then land with a roar in the midst of it and take a long and satisfying drink from the spring which time had dried at its source, but which might be induced to flow—tem- porarily. “Tt has been expensive, but I wasn’t dis- posed to examine the cost mark. I had to have it, even if it had stripped me of my last dollar. The result has not been all I might desire; nevertheless, I am making the most of what I have, and when I get through and return to York I believe the nostalgia will be a thing of the past. The medicine, Reeves, is effecting a cure.” Martin Reeves had listened intently to all this. Judge Brand cheerfully admitted his folly, and as cheerfully defended it. “Now, in the midst of this novel experi- ence,”’ the judge went on, “I find a sudden, practical slant given to my haphazard ac- tivities. A nugget chain claims my atten- tion, dropping apparently out of a clear sky and in a manner most astonishing. ‘Adams and I washed those nuggets out of the sands, and had two chains forged of them with golden links. He kept one and I kept the other. Odd and most unusual trinkets they were, and by certain marks I have identified the one owned by my old pardner.”’ He leaned toward Reeves, his deep-set eyes shining with excitement. “How came that chain of Adams into this old camp?” he demanded. ‘That is what I want to know.” “T thought it fell into Ezra Bobbett’s hands with Lady Ann?” returned Reeves. “Ezra Bobbett?” The judge smiled dubi- ously. “Years ago, I—” He broke off abruptly. “Well,” he continued, “Ezra Bobbett’s word does not settle the matter. Nor is Miss Bobbett’s word final, for she was too young to know about the chain when she fell into the care of the Bobbetts. Mani- festly, Lady Ann makes her statement on the word of her foster father. PER CONTRACT. 543 “Reeves,” and here the old gentleman grew judicial, “what do you know of the . man called Rayner? He exerts a strange influence over the Bobbetts—how and why? Can you shed any light on that? If you can, then I urge you to do so—for the good of Lady Ann Bobbett herself.” Reeves was startled by the earnestness of the judge’s manner, and by the deeply significant tone of his voice. For the good of Lady Ann herself! What lay back of that? Reeves was not only startled but greatly troubled. ‘“T have feared for a long time,” said he gravely, “that some danger threatened Miss Bobbett! <A beautiful girl, Judge Brand, a wonderful girl, with a character as fine as her face is fair. Can—can you explain to me further just what you mean when you say you must find out about Rayner, and for the girl’s own good?” The eyes glimmered under their bushy brows. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, my boy,’ went on the judge, ‘‘and I see that I was not wrong in choosing you for a confidant. I can’t tell you more on the subject of Rayner and Lady Ann just now, but if you can shed any light on the matter of Rayner’s influence with the Bobbetts you will do well to be frank with me.” “T have noticed the influence you men- tion,’ said Reeves, reflectively, “‘and I be- lieve Gentleman Jim is holding something over Ezra Bobbett, but as to what that something is I am as much in the dark as you are.” Judge Brand settled back in his chair with a look of disappointment. “But I saw the nugget chain before it came to your attention in El Rio Rey,” Reeves added. “In Miss Bobbett’s possession?” “No, in Rayner’s.”’ Again the judge dropped forward, elbows on his knees and his eyes sparkling. “Now we're getting at it,” said he. “When and where, Reeves?” The Tenderfoot related the incident. He had barely finished when a faint rap sounded on the door. It was late—nearly midnight—and not an hour when callers were to be expected. ‘‘“Amos, I suppose,”’ murmured the judge, and stepped to the door and pulled it open. Another moment and he fell back, amazed. A slender figure, swathed in a long cloak, had come unsteadily into the Gomichboo S (C@)