Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

ACE .man, * 674 “T reckon I ain’t none polite—doin’ all the gassin’,” he said. ‘“ This is my new boss—Brail Kelton.” CHAPTER XII. A TERRIFIC PROBLEM. HORTY closed his eyes. His hands, lying on the white counterpane, clenched with a rigidity that drove the blood out of them, leaving them white de- spite the tan. It seemed that all the blood in his body had suddenly surged into his brain, creating chaos in which only one co- herent thought survived — the knowledge that at his bedside, so close that he might have reached out and touched him, was the man who had murdered his friend Larry Dillon. Shorty had lived his life in a section of world in which men habitually concealed their emotions, keeping their likes and their dislikes to themselves. Such a habit nour- ishes self-control, fortifies against surprises, and permits clear thinking in emergencies. Therefore, though Shorty was stunned with the revelation of the identity of the girl’s father, he did not permit the passion that seethed through him to show in his eyes. When he opened them he looked straight at Kelton. There was a smile on his lips, faint, masking the sneer that lurked behind it. However, he could not wholly veil the hatred he felt for Kelton; far back in his eyes it gleamed as he looked at the man; a glint not to be seen by the other, because Shorty’s lashes had nar- rowed until they were mere slits. “Kelton, eh?” he said; “ Brail Kelton. I’m mighty glad to meet you, Kelton.” “You’ve had a pretty close shave, Nel- son,” said the other. tellin’ me that you thought Tim Blandell done it. I reckon you made a mistake in not borin’ him when you was close to him in Loma.” Shorty smiled mirthlessly. lieve in gettin’ them first —eh, Kelton? Before they’ve got a chance to bore you in the back?”’ “T don’t take any chances with men like Blandell,” said the other gravely. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Kelton certainly hadn’t taken any chance ~ “My daughter was “You be- | with Larry Dillon, according to Black- burn’s story. And he had shown Larry no mercy. Shorty looked hard at the man, apprais- ing him. It was evident that he possessed enormous strength, both mental and physi- cal. There was a thrust to his chin which indicated either obstinacy or determina- tion; his mouth was big, though the lips were well formed and firm; his eyes had lit- tle creases running into the corners, as though they sometimes narrowed humor- ously. The eyes themselves were baffling gray. It seemed to Shorty as he looked into them that they slowly changed their color under his scrutiny, growing darker as he held their gaze, the pupils dilating as a result of some deep emotion the man was con- cealing. Yet they were steady—as steady as Shorty’s. | Did Kelton know him? Shorty was aware that his friendship for Larry had been noted and commented upon widely; and it had seemed to him that Kelton’s action in pinning the note on Larry’s body must have been a deliberate challenge to Larry’s friends—possibly a personal chal-. lenge to himself. If that were the case—and Kelton knew him—the man’s self-possession was re- markable. It meant that he would have to be careful how he moved until the mo- ment came when he was ready to exact reparation for the killing of his friend; it meant that he must not permit the other to suspect that he knew him as the murderer, lest the other take advantage of his condi- tion and do to him what he had done to Larry. But there was a vein of grim humot in Shorty’s attitude toward life, a certain recklessness which took no account of con- sequences. While he still held Kelton’s gaze he said slowly: “T reckon you’ve been takin’ care of Red King?” ‘“Meanin’ your horse?’ The gray eyes were still steady, the lashes unblinking. ““My hoss,” returned Shorty. “I’m sort of careful of him. He’s a present from (C(O) nn (C(O) nn) (C 6)(0)©) KS