Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

THROW tered the head of one simultaneously en- tered the head of the other. With one ac- cord they clicked to their horses and the cavalcade started off at a breakneck gallop. CHAPTER XIV. THE RATTLESNAKE. ARGERY CORBIN rode for some MI time in silence. But this was not the silence of a mind at pease or of a soul basking in contentment. She was seething with rage and helpless fury. She had, until Red Wilpin made that tactless and unnecessary reference to green-eyed girls, been willing to forgive him for being red-headed; she had been willing, nay eager, to be friendly with him—to be a comrade and a good pal—in a very platonic sense, of course. Now she would never, never forgive him for that brutal blow to her pride. ; And as if he were deliberately cherishing the intention of humiliating and infuriating her, when their conversation was ended by her passionate “I hate you!”—he dropped back and cheerfully began to discuss with Friday Pepper the one topic that was cal- culated to offend her the most. “It’s a-goin’ to be one of the grandest parties those hardshells in Yumpa ever seen pulled off,” the red-haired bandit said gayly. ‘‘ Friday, this party of ours is goin’ thunderin’ down in history.” “Va reckon we'll. squander a heap 0’ money, Red?” the old man said with a silly chuckle. “T reckon we’ll squander money just as if it was water, Friday. Ain’t we got an - unlimited supply? And ain’t these jewels worth a young fortune? Ill say they are!” ‘“Whut time does yore Jerginson watch say it is, Red?” | “ Listen, Friday!” touched the watch. Promptly it tinkled. Thrice it tinkled. ‘Just three o’clock. I sure would hate to hock this watch, Friday. But there aii’t anything else I’ve got a sentimental at- tachment to. Say! How about the mail- sack? How much do you bet there is in the mailsack, Friday?” UP YOUR HANDS. The young man. 525 “ Five thousand?” “Easy! Ain’t it got the payroll of the Merry Wives o’ Windsor mine in it? And look at the crew they got! Shall we stop along here ahd count it?” Friday shook his head. “TI sort of hate t’ touch that mailsack, Red, ontil th’ last thing. Thar’s somethin’ sort of sacred about that U. S. mails. Let’s leave it ontil th’ last.” “All right. I feel that way myself. We'll save the mailsack for our nest egg. What're you goin’ to start on, Friday— roulette, keno, faro, chuckaluck or poker?” The old man smiled dreamily. “I reckon I’ll jest sort of mosey around and drink it all in at fust, then I'll jest pick and choose.” “Well, I reckon I'll start right in on chuckaluck. That’s a real swift game, Fri- day.” “Shore is. Look yere, Red. Whut in Sam Hill are we a-goin’ to do with th’ gal?” “Aw, hire a room for her in the Grand Palace Hotel and leave here there while we go out and paint the town.” “Think she'll be safe thar?” “Why not? If she can pull a trigger and shoot the bottom out of a coffe pot at one hundred yards by accident, what won’t she be able to hit when she begins aimin’ at good live targets!” “Are you having a good time?” Miss Corbin called back coldly. “Oh, my gracious, ma’am,” Friday gasped, “was you eavesdroppin’? We shore are sorry—ain’t we, Red?” “We apologize,” Red supplemented guiltily. “I plumb forgot all about your bein’ there.” | “Oh, I think you’re brutal!” she cried. “ Dragging me to this vile place and—and marooning me in a hotel while you go out and paint the town! You know very well Pll be frightened to death. How can you be so cruel?” “Well, ma’am Friday unsympathetically suggested, “ ya can change yore mind any time ya wish to, and go on back t’ th’ stage coach where yore friends are.” “How can I?” she wailed. ‘ You know those two vicious men are between me and the stage coach. And that degenerate Doo CO