The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 171: what you’re looking at

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

, COCHRANE HANDS OUT A LEMON. heat ailments, to which the elderly Scotch- man is so peculiarly liable. And, true to form and type, the vener- able one was standing at the bar, grasp- ing a liquid preventive of heat strokes, and surrounded by a knot of farmers, who were listening appreciatively to an account the old scoundrel was giving of the man- ner in which he had made the fortune of a perfect stranger, by recommending the purchase of a certain farm in the oil belt. The moral to be drawn, “Go thou and do likewise,” was being driven home by Sandy when Jim and Bunny made their appearance on the veranda, where they stepped to speak to an acquaintance. Sandy changed the subject when he heard the voices of the new-comers. “Ah’ll be juist frae Grafton the mor-r-n,” he remarked, “an’ the crood 0’ specilators an’ propooters wes past belief. Ay! tes a graund thong for the deestreect, a’ the fowk comin’ to buy the likely spots, forbye their spendin’ so muckle siller 1’ the toon. An’ tes ma joogement that oor bit toonship here is juist as fine a spot as Grafton. Doone, ma mannie, ye cudna dae better than pairchaise the bit place ye was speirin’ aboot th’ ither day.” He launched out into a tangle of reasons why that property should be just the kind to contain the oil, the discovery of which was filling everybody in the district with the insanity of speculation. In the midst of his harangue, Jim and Bunny entered, with an air of excitement which they seemingly tried hard to quell. “Howdy, folks! Name it!” cried Cochrane boisterously. ‘“‘ These are all on me.” The crowd eyed him curiously, for as he drank his whisky his hand shook and some of the liquor was wasted. The Scotchman who can witness sacri- lege committed like this is not yet born, and McKechnie gazed at Jim with a world of wonderment in his eyes, for the Ameri- can’s ordinary manner, though friendly to these Australians among whom his lot had been cast, had never been remarkable for effusion, but it came close to that now. IITA 161 “Whut ails ye, Maister Cochrane, are ye no weel the day?” Sandy asked. “Well? I should say I was well. I’m celebrating. That’s all the matter with with me. Come on, boys, have a repeater. When good luck comes my way—” He stopped short, and the warning kick that Bunny administered was just too late to escape the attention of Mr. McKechnie. “Well, what’s the good word?” one of the loungers inquired. “Birthday party?” Cochrane’s sheepish look was his only reply, for Bunny shot a frown at him, with a slight headshake, which also was unfor- tunately intercepted by the sharp eyes of Sandy. Jim hastily called for another round of drinks, and resented loudly the advice ten- dered him by his friend, not to overdo it. He fairly swore at Bunny, and invited him to mind his own business. “Tf you are boarding the water-wagon, all right, go to it, my son. Climb aboard. But not for me. No water in mine. No, sirree! Oil and water won’t mix!” He gave a noisy laugh at his own jest, and with a whispered rebuke that the others did not catch, Bunny seized his arm and fairly hustled him to the side door of the barroom. “Any one in the back parlor, Joe?” he asked at the door. “All right.” There was a momentary pause when they left the room. Then babel broke out. “Whaddya make out o’ that?” “Notice his clo’se? All oil, by cripes.” ““They’ve struck it all right.” “The lucky cows, and them on the worst section in the distric’.” “Listen at them. They’ll- be fightin’ next.” And, indeed, the voices of the two could be heard from the parlor. Sandy said nothing, and unobtrusively left the room by the side door. Curiosity is a painful and ugly trait. Cochrane’s voice was loud, and his friend could be plainly heard trying to silence him. “T say, sell out, while we can get a fair return on our money,” Jim shouted, his voice roughened by drink. “Any of those CORMICGLOOOKS (C@