Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 3, 1924 — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

956 Further conversation was drowned as the garage was filled with the roar of the engine as it came suddenly to life. It was gradu- ally throttled down to a steady hum. “Hop in,” Slim heard the cow-puncher yell. He retreated from his pony as the Mar- kins’ flivver rolled out of the garage with Shorty at the steering wheel, a pretty girl at his side. A person standing in the dark- ness of the yard would not have known she was pretty. Slim, however, knew she was pretty, in fact, very pretty. And as he gazed in the darkness after the machine he had no difficulty whatever in visualizing the many features of her person which in his estimation made her not merely very pretty but positively the prettiest girl in the world. ‘“‘ Huh,” he said as he unhobbled his pony, “that guy Shorty knows a lot about gals.” He mounted thoughtfully and sat so en- grossed, he forgot to signal the little horse to move. They stood, a silhouette beneath a moonlit Texas sky, both as motionless as the famous Horse and Injun in ‘“ The End of the Trail,’’ and quite as dejected. “Now if a guy only could work that idea out,’ mused Slim. ‘ But-t-t—huh! May’s different. If I tried actin’ like she didn’t mean nothin’ to me she might think I meant it and—well, what’n hells’ bells are we standin’ here for?” He looked up, then prodded his horse. “Come on here, Tar Soap, what’s the idear. We ain’t goin’ nowhere, but let’s go.” If. Sim signed up with Shorty Allen to ride in his New York rodeo on the following day. He hadn’t intended to, but circumstances arose overnight which made it seem impera- tive to do so. Endeavoring to coax sleep— marital thoughts keeping him awake—he suddenly sat upright in his bunk, so up- right in fact, he bumped his head, as it occurred to him that mavbe Shorty would have another idea, perhaps a less risky one on how to win a lady. If so, cultivation of Shorty would be fertile pastime. And such pastime would be quite feasible in a trip to New York. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. He slept on it blissfully; awoke in the gray of the morning with ardor dampened and decided it didn’t look so good. But cheered up considerable after the Chinese cook indulged in legerdemain with the kitchen stove and produced ham and eggs, baked spuds, hot muffins and sizzling coffee. The idea looked better after the third cup of coffee, still— No, he didn’t think he’d risk it. The rodeo, including the trip East, would have him away from Sunset Slope almost a month. No telling what might happen in that time. No, he better stick and let Nature take her course. If he was meant to win May he’d win her. If not, well, all the snares Shorty Allen might help him to lay for an unsuspecting little lady would be in vain. He rode into town in the late afternoon to discover May Markins had left the Slope for an indefinite stay with her aunt in Larabee. And on the afternoon of the day before he had talked with her and she had made no mention of planning a visit anywhere. It was in the fever pitch of wrath at such a slight that he came upon Shorty Allen at the post office and prompt- ly put his signature to a rodeo contract. ‘We start right away,” said the sawed- off cowboy, who had won fame through the West with his riding feats. ‘I only had my gang signed up three months ago but two of ’em had to back out at the last minute so that’s how I come to be here pagin’ yuh boys. Course yuh don’t mind my callin’ on yer gal while I was here. She an’ me are old friends.” “My gal?” echoed Slim. ‘“ Shucks, I ain’t got nothin’ to say about who calls on May. Guess she likes to have ‘bout every- body do that little thing but me.” ‘That ain’t the way to rope ’em, part- ner,” said Shorty sharply. ‘‘ Yuh are on the wrong trail. Any time yuh set out to brand somethin’ on hoofs yuh don’t stop when the iron’s hot do yuh?” Slim shook his head. “Then don’t stop with a woman. ‘She ain’t no different than a head o’ cattle ‘less she’s a little more obstinate. However if you'll excuse me I got an itchin’ to line my stomach with some vittles. We grab the comniclsoo! (©