The Argosy, Vol. 82, No. 3 — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

THE OLD WEST of a redskin on the warpath. By keeping to the bushes there was not much difficulty in passing the camp unseen and reaching the place where the Rocky Spur trail climbed over the rim of the gulch. The wagon track angled from base to crest in such a way that the slope was easy for a traveler’s nerves. There was but one turn in the ascent, and this came half-way to the top. Here the road bent sharply around the foot of a boulder as large as a house. Judge Brand led Reeves to the up-hill side of the mass of granite. “Do you get the idea, Reeves?” the judge inquired. “Not exactly,” was the reply. “Well, look. We watch around the boul- der for the two to come up the trail. Very likely they will be riding stirrup to stirrup, but they will not be able to make much speed. I’ll get up the side of the rock a few feet and make a drop throw with the rope, getting the noose over the man who is rid- ing on the farther side. That will bring the riata down in front of the one who travels nearest the boulder. “The instant the loop is in place I jump down and take a half-hitch around the trunk of that scrubby ironwood. As _ the slack is taken up both men ought to be un- horsed; then we’ll make some quick moves and disarm them.” “Tf anything should go wrong—”’ “Don’t worry about that. We’ll do our best to work through the program—and trust to luck. Rayner and his son have got to come this way. Even if they should at- tempt to go the Penyan road Robbins and the others will drive them back. But I am positive they won’t take that route.” “They’re going to Rocky Spur, I think,” speculated Reeves. ‘“That’s the nearest railroad point, and, of course, they’ll not lose much time getting out of the country.” “They’ve got all the time in the world, Reeves, with all our horses run off and no effective way to give pursuit. It’s my opin- ion they’ll make for Penyan, so the don can record the location notice.” “The don won’t dare show himself and do anything with the mining claim!”’ “Rayner thinks he can complicate the ownership so we’ll have to buy off his son; at least, that’s the way I size it up. He’s wily, that gambler. And what a jolt he handed Nugget Notch this beautiful morn- ing!” PER CONTRACT. 557 The judge laughed softly. “The excitement is worth all the incon- venience it is causing us,” he added. “I hadn’t dreamed of anything like this com- ing up.” ‘Raynor and the don must have been pretty busy during the night.” “Clever idea, that of corraling all the ammunition in the camp! But then, Reeves, a cunning head did the planning.” The judge threw out the rope, examined it critically and coiled it in slowly and care- fully. He hummed contentedly under his breath as he worked. Reeves, excited and apprehensive, with- drew to the edge of the boulder and watched the road below. The rippling waters of the creek gleamed in the sun- light, and the rugged gulch lay under his eyes in peaceful contrast with the criminal proceedings going forward in the camp. Gentleman Jim and the don would make short work of Hungerford, Ah Sin, the Mexicanos, and any one else who happened to be at the hotel. Then they would cross to the Bazar. Reeves tried to picture to himself what would happen when the gambler and his son gave their attention to the Bobbetts. Would Ezra, remembering his wrongs at Gentleman Jim’s hands, try to resist? Reeves hoped not—on Lady Ann’s account. The Tenderfoot was half inclined to find fault with himself for not keeping to his original plan of going to the Bazar and do- ing his best to protect her. It would have been a reckless move, no doubt, but it would have spared Reeves all that worry his ignorance of development was now caus- ing him. From the Bazar the robbers would move on Golshaw and the gold that still remained in Robbins’s chest. After that, the sevorita would receive their attention, and then— Reeves broke off his reflections abruptly. In plain sight below was the mouth of a dug-out, and in front of the opening was Hot Tamala, chained to a paloverde, and dozing in the sun. Near the grizzly was Old Jack, the Ute. “Judge!” called Reeves, stifling a laugh; “come here a minute.” Judge Brand approached and Reeves pointed to the Indian. The redskin had the judge’s battered high hat pulled down to his ears, and was swaggering back and forth in front of the dug-out, the gold-headed cane in his hand. Go .OO (E©)