The Argosy, November 1908 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

634 by the applauding slaps laid upon his shoulder. Modestly he tried to disclaim any es- pecial merit for his deed, and to ascribe it all to accident ; but his admirers would listen to no such explanations. They were determined to exalt him into a hero, and willy-nilly, he had to mount the pedestal. Over and over again, he was called on to describe the routing of the bandits, and with each recital, especially as the bar was doing a rushing business, their ap- proval of his conduct became more pro- nounced, their shouts of laughter at the discomfiture of the gang more uproar- ious. Nothing in Verdee, they assured him, was too good for such a man as he. He had but to express a wish, and they would see that it was instantly attended to. In fact, as the fiery liquor dispensed by Jack Avery took deeper effect upon them, Dick began to find their attentions rather overpowering, and was consider- ing how best he might excuse himself and withdraw from the boisterous scene, when there came an interruption in the shape of a new arrival. The door was roughly fine open, and into the assemblage strode Ralph Jones. ‘‘Here, here, Avery,” he demanded arrogantly, ‘“‘ what is the meaning of all this? You fellows are making enough noise to wake the dead. What is it all about?” A score of voices tried to answer him; but the red-shirted master of ceremonies, awaking to the duties of his position, stilled them with a wave of his arm, and staggered forward. ‘“Why shouldn’t we make a noise,” he hiccuped, ‘‘ when we've got the bravest little man with us that ever hit the town —a feller that stood off a whole gang of road-agents with nothin’ but a pictur’ machine? Thar, Mr. Jones,” pointing an unsteady finger at Dick, “ Thar stands Behave! ”’ ‘‘ Behave?” Ralph Jones gave a well- assumed start. Then he turned con- temptuously toward the other. ‘“ What are you trying to give me?”’ he sneered. “ But it is. It is Behave,’ came from every quarter of the room. “ He’s been tellin’ us all about it.” THE ARGOSY. The mining superintendent laughed in scorn. “ Behave?” he repeated. ‘‘ Then, he’s a very different looking man from the one described to me by Miss Pren- tice. “And, besides,’ with the flourish of a clinching argument, as he produced the misleading note left by Dick at the scene of the hold-up, “here is a message un- doubtedly from Behave in which he dis- tinctly states that he has started back East. If that be so, what is he doing here in Verdee? ” The crowd, sobered for the moment, gazed uncertainly from one man to the other; and Jones, relying upon the ad- vantage he had gained, swaggered up to Behan. “Is your name Behave?” he demand- ed. The whole affair had come so quickly upon Dick that he was dazed, confused. He realized that as a stranger there, with no one to plead his cause, he must make no false step, and stopped to con- sider his answer. But this very hesita- tion told against him. “Is your name Behave?” Every voice in the room was thundering the question at him now. “No,” he faltered; ‘ but—” His attempted explanation was drowned in the roar of yells, cat-calls, and hisses which greeted so fatal an ad- mission. 3 Indeed, he would probably have re- ceived a good deal rougher treatment, had not Jack Avery leaped from behind the counter, and hustling his guest into a corner, stood before him in defensive at- titude with a huge bung-starter in his hands. ‘No rough-house, gents,” protested the proprietor, “‘ outside, you kin do what you please; but while he’s under my roof, no one shall lay a finger on him. Ralph Jones, you’re deppity sheriff; I call on you to help me protect this here man.” Jones, still with that disdainful smile upon his lips, pushed his way to Avery’s side. “But, who is he, Jack?” he ques- tioned. ‘“ Where did he come from?” Lank Rake, forcing a passage through the crowd, took it upon himself to an- swer. “ He’s a hobo, inate what iS tetonnd mon yeomn