The Argosy, April 1916 — page 179: what you’re looking at

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

WHEN THE DEPUTY CAME FOR BUD. pointing skyward. He had four .45 Colt revolvers in his belt and a bowie knife stick- ing out of each boot. He presented an ap- pearance of fierceness that would have made a stuffed buffalo break for cover. He wasn’t lonely, either. Every mother’s son in the burg was dolling up for the oc- -casion with all the old shooting irons and other artillery they could dig up, along with old goathair chaps and broad-brimmed som- breros and other trimmings. When the six o'clock train pulled in you couldn’t have told Niggerhead from Dodge City in its palmiest days. Mr. John Mallory, deputy sheriff, stepped off and took a look at Zeke, who was ex- tending the glad hand. His eyes traveled . from the upturned black mustaches to the four guns in Zeke’s belt and then down to the bowie knives in his boots, and he shud- dered. The deputy was short and fat, with a red puffy nose, flabby cheeks and a whisky breath. His eyes stuck out of his head like a hop-toad’s. ; ‘“‘Welcome to our town, brother!” roared Zeke, seizing the other’s hand and pumping hard. ‘Thought you never would get here, you darned old hamdinger!”’ ‘Are you the sheriff?” asked Mallory in a faint voice. “No. Dm Zeke Johnson, at your ser- vice. Sheriff and posse have gone out after a gang of bandits that just held up a train down the line a bit and shot seventy-five or eighty conductors and brakemen and pas- Sengers and got away with a lot of money. He deputized me to look out for you and your business. I understand you are after Bud Morris.” “TY am,” answered Mr. Mallory, swelling out his chest importantly. “I should like to have a private conference with Mr. Mor- ris as soon as possible.”’ “You would!” exclaimed Zeke in sur- prise. “I thought you came here to arrest him.” “TY did,” averred Mr. Mallory, ‘and I in- tend to, if it is necessary.” “Tf it is necessary! Do you mean to say that there is a chance thrt he won’t have to go back?” “IT don’t know as that is any of your business.” | ‘“‘Well—Mebbe it ain’t,” agreed Zeke, plumb kerflumaxed by the other’s attitude. If that tenderfoot had only known it he could have saved himself considerable fu- 169 ture trouble and discomfort just then if he had opened up right. Zeke saw that there was a card in the deck we hadn’t figured on, but inasmuch as he could make but one guess and that was that the deputy was willing to be bought off, and we didn’t have ten dollars between us, he decided to play his hand as he had originally intended. ‘We're mighty glad to know that you are going to take Bud away. It’ll bea relief to the community to have him gone and we'll all help you. However, if you are figuring on a compromise with him, I can tell you right here that it won’t go. Bud never gives or asks quarters of any one.” ‘Ts he considered a bad man?” | ‘Bad! Why, bad ain’t no name for it! That galoot’s put so many notches in his guns that he’s had to have the handles ex- tended to hold them all. He’s sure the shootingest son of a gun you ever did see! Come along up-town and meet him.” Mr. Mallory looked thoughtful and acted like he’d just as soon stay where he was. ‘Is—is Bud expecting me?” he asked. “No; he’s out working a little lode claim on Misery Creek, but he’ll come in fast enough when he hears there’s an officer here after him. Bud just loves to mix with sheriffs.” “Can’t you see him first and tell him I’d like to have a little talk with him in pri- vate?” asked Mallory nervously. “Not me! I'll point him out to you, and you can do the rest. I’ve got too many re- sponsibilities to go doing anything foolish. Now, come along.”’ : Zeke hooked his arm through that of the deputy’s and started him up-town. They hadn’t proceeded a block when Tink Hick- man bounced out from behind a building looking like a miniature reproduction of the old wild and woolly in all its worst essen- tials. He shoved a pair of old cap and ball pistols into Mallory’s face, jumped into the air and-cracked his heels. ‘“WHOOPEE!” he yelled as he came down. “I got you, you hifaluting son of a hop-toad! You’re the guy what cleaned me out of my pile out Misery Creek way witha _ pair of phony dice! There can’t no man pull that kind of a job on me and live!” He made to shoot Mallory on the spot, but Zeke worked into the argument and used up a good fifteen minutes convincing Tink he had made a mistake. Then the “bad man” apologized and the procession moved on. IOOOLK C@