Argosy, Volume XXIII — Index Page, 1897 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

580 A CAMPAIGN OF STRATEGY. Come, Jack, we haven’t far to go now, and you shall have a good rest after we reach home.”’ The pony seemed to understand, for he pricked his ears, snuffed the air and quickened his footsteps. The possibility that there might be some other cause for this than his approach to his home did not occur to the rider. | The sun was well down the sky when Atwood drew rein in front of the small, one story building, where he was in the habit of sleeping. Austin Gannet, brawny, muscular, and powerful, was seated on the shaded bench beside the front door, smoking his pipe and lolling away the oppressive hours. ‘The cattle were scattered among the foothills to the northward, browsing, chewing their cuds in the shade, and brushing with their tails the flies from their bodies. Somewhere, too, in the shade, Bumble Bee Beebe was supposed to be dawdling away the time, most probably in slumber. Atwood removed the rifle, saddle, bridle, and his apparatus from his pony, and turned him loose, for the animal needed no one to look after his wants, after which the man strode forward and sat down opposite his friend. ‘Well, Atwood, did you get any pictures between here and Bozeman’s ?”’ asked the cattleman, with a laugh. = “Only one, but that is a beauty. Wait till I wash the plate, and I will show you the negative. You cannot help admiring it.” He passed into the house for a few minutes, in order to prepare the plate. Then when he came forth, he put a dark background behind it, so as to show it almost as distinctly as when fully developed. Gannet studied it only a moment, when he started and excitedly uttered the exclamation : ‘Well, I’m jiggered !”’ = CHAPTER II.—THE HumMmocks OF SAND. Austin GANNET was a man of iron nerve and with a cool head. So rarely did he show excitement, even in the presence of imminent peril, that Atwood looked at him in astonishment. ‘Tt will make a fine picture,’ he remarked, ‘‘ but no finer than many others you have seen ; so I don’t understand why you should overflow with admiration.’’ : ‘“Vou don’t, eh ?’’ replied the cowman, with unabated agitation ; ‘‘ well, when you see what I doin that picture, you’ll open your eyes wider than you ever did before.’’ The photographer leaned over his friend’s shoulder and scrutinized the negative again. It was so backed and placed that the most minute features _of the sandy landscape were brought out in clear relief. ‘here is the desert to the north and south,’’ remarked Atwood, ‘‘ with the foothills showing as a background. The prospect isn’t the most pleasing that I have seen, but it is typical of this country, and therefore inter- esting.”’ ‘‘T should say so; do you observe off here to the right, between where you stood and the foothills, those hummocks of sand ?”’ ‘‘T noticed them at the time I was taking the picture.’ Ccommicoooks = (S@)