Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

THE BUSTER. hook the kitchen door an’ close it. Then I won’t need you any more. Take the rest o’ the day off, if you like. No, Buffy, not even to oblige you. I’m hot enough aw- ready. Did them Buck Snorters ever try to swear out a warrant for me, Wat?” ‘“ No!” snapped the sheriff. “ Anybody arrested yet for the Eoaribs murder?”’ “No!” Another snap. “YT dunno how them teeth of yores stand the strain,” said Coryell, “ battin’ ‘em. together thataway. I think I'll be leavin’ you now.” He knelt, steadied his gun against the door-jamb, and fired four times at the stove. Then with the broom handle he pried down the latch of the dining-room door, and levered the door open. There was no shot from the Stanley rifle. He opened the door wide. Crack! A bullet sped through the kitch- en and passed through the dining-room to find lodgement in the front wall. On the heels of the shot Coryell whipped into the dining-room, being narrowly missed as he sprang by a second bullet that split the oilcloth of Buff’s dining-room table. Coryell went on into the barroom. Here were Grover Dawson, his brother Dave, Connie’s father, and several other Hatchet citizens. They were all crowded together at a side window that gave a cat-a-cornered view of Rebel Stanley’s stove. They were so absorbed that they did not see Coryell as he ran through. He heard Grover Dawson offer to bet the blacksmith that Coryell would succeed in “getting” Rebel Stanley beforé sundown. He sped into the street, crossed it, slipped between two false-fronted buildings, turned and raced for the Mint corral. Flipping the dropped reins over his horse’s head, he topped the animal without touching the stirrup. Spurring viciously, he sent his mount on the keen jump diagonally across Main Street toward a large corral situate at the left and rear of Dave Dawson’s resi- dence and corral. [rom a corner of the large corral it was Coryell’s laudalsle ex- pectation and desire to take Rebel Stanley and his breastwork in flank. Behind the sheltering posts of the large 413 corral he dismounted, dragged out his rifle and ran to the corner. He poked a cau- tious head into the clear. To his intense chagrin, no chapped-and-booted form en- cumbered the earth behind the stove, but a spurred heel was just vanishing into the gloom of the Jones stable. The stable door closed with a slam. Coryell drove a futile bullet into that stable door. “Ow! My gar! Leggo!” It was the voice of a child remcnstrating to ‘the skies. Cor- yell looked over his shoulder. He saw Con- nie Dawson holding Bub Dawson by the ear and collar and expertly “ boosting ” him homeward. To the uninitiated be it known that boosting is done with the knee. The efficient booster can lift the boostee six inches off the ground at a boost. Con- nie was an efficient booster. ‘“] wanna see Bill shoot that other man!” yowled the unfortunate Bub. “ Aw, why can’tcha lemme; I never have any fun! J---” “Shut up!” ordered Connie, and shook him severely. ‘ Just because ma ain’t home you needn't think you can run out and get yourself shot. J told you to stay in the house, and I’]] see you stay there if I have to lock you in the wood-shed.” “The wood-shed ain’t the house!” squealed Bub, struck by the solecism. ‘Never mind! Slide right along!” The two disappeared behind the corral. A moment later a door banged. A muf- fled voice spoke passionately of smarties, injustice, hatred, and other matters. Came then Tom Jones to beg that Coryell would not shoot any more bullets through the stable door. “You see, I got a buckboard inside that stable,” explained Tom Jones, “ an’ from where yo’re standin’ vore lead oughta sift through it the longest wav. I don’t like to horn in on any gent’s business, Bill, but that buckboard o’ mine is brand new.” “"Nough = said,” Coryell told him promptly ‘I'll drag it.” . “Oh, T wouldn’t wanna ask yuh to do that. Just wait till he comes out, if yuh don’t mind, an’ beef him in the open.”’ “| can’t wait that long. This is one o' my busy days, Tom. IT was gonna pull my freight pretty quick anywaspafter diseen..