Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

MYSTERY LAND. the sharpness in his voice when he had in- terrupted the conversation between herself and Channing that day on the rear porch; the day he had ordered Channing to go with the other men to get the calves out of the timber—and Channing had driven the buckboard to Red Mesa. She could account for Bassett’s deroga- tory words, she thought. For a moment she had almost doubted Channing’s ability. Again she shot a glance at Bassett. He was not looking at her, but her own cheeks reddened. Inwardly she laughed. How ridiculous! Why, Channing was almost young enough to be her son! Could Bas- sett think—! How foolish men were! But there was no mistaking the discov- ery. Bassett was jealous. Her eyes grew thoughtful, serious. She had never thought of Bassett as a possible suitor; and after he left her she began men- tally to examine her own feelings. He had made an impression she decided. She liked him. His smile, which was rare, had more than once disturbed her; it had awak- ened something in her which had been dor- mant for some time. Bassett said nothing more to Jane about Channing. He observed, however, that the following morning Channing roped Mid- night, saddled and bridled him and rode him out into the sage. For a time Bassett watched horse and rider. Then he went in- to the stable, delved into a corner and found a quirt. The quirt was unlike others that hung here and there in the stable. Bassett had bought it several years before from a Mex- ican. Its rawhide thongs were more slen- der than those on the other quirts owned by the Circle B; and the extreme end of each thong was tipped with a sphere of sil- ver, about the size of buckshot. Bassett stuck the implement inside his shirt and walked to the harness shop, where he sat for some time on a bench, rubbing oil on the rawhide thongs of the quirt, to make them pliable. The quirt had been used on Midnight years ago. Bassett won- dered if Midnight would remember it. Bassett thought Midnight would never forget the quirt. In fact, there were times when Midnight’s eyes glowed red. Those 221 were the times when Bassett came near him. Yes; he thought Midnight remembered. CHAPTER VIL. THE QUIRT. HANNING worked with Midnight a little while each day, but he did not work every day at the same time, and so Bassett found it hard to be around to watch the contest between man and beast. He couldn’t be around all the time, for continued watchfulness might arouse suspicion; and he wanted Channing ‘to go ahead, not mistrusting anything. Some days he missed seeing Channing put the black horse through his paces. But on those days when he did see he was forced to admit that Channing had adopted the proper method of gentling a horse. But that merely vindicated Bassett’s previous conviction that Channing was a wizard with horses, even though the spectacle aroused in him a new contempt of Channing. At various times he asked himself the ques- tion: “ Wasn’t it odd that he didn’t fire Channing?” A queer chill that always ran over him with the propounding of the question was the answer. He was certain that his firing Channing would bring about a clash with the man. And he shrank from a clash with Channing. Channing had an evil temper. Behind Channing’s quietness was volcanic passion. : He’d seen Channing exhibit passion. He’d never blown up, as some men did; he’d never raved aloud or threatened. Channing wasn’t that kind. When Chan- ning spoke he meant what he said; when he moved, something happened. No; he’d never discharge Channing. That much was definite. As the days fled Bassett seemed to grow more calm. Channing was doing wonders with Midnight. He had the horse trained to fear a rope, to answer the reins at the slightest touch; to stand perfectly still while Channing mounted him. He’d even taught the animal to lift a foreleg at the touch of a hand! And Midnight had entirely ceased buck- COMMIC LOOKS (E(0)