Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 4 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

SPEAKING OF we'd promised to help out some overbur- dened person by relieving him of the weight of his roll. A shaky feeling began to chase up and down my spine. I could see that something was working in Ed’s mind, and I was betting ten to one that it was his conscience. But this time, it seems I was wrong. After I’d hurried to bed that night and pretended to be snoring before I even hit the pillow, Ed came in, turned on the light, roamed around the room, and mumbled to himself a long time before he began to undress. Then, finally, when he’d climbed in, he turned and tossed and kicked the covers around for half an hour, hoping all the time that he’d wake me up. At last he jabbed me in the ribs. “ Lucius!” ¢ Veh.”’ ‘“‘ Are you awake?” “No; I’m dead and buried. What do you think I’m doing, talking in my sleep?” Much silence. Then: ‘* Lucius! ” $6 Uhuh.” “ What do you suppose that an oil-pro- moter can be up to in taking out a lease on the Bar T Ranch?” “ What’s that?” I sat up in bed now. Certainly, if there was one thing in the world that was useless, hopeless and beyond redemption, it was the Bar T Gulleys: soap- weed, no water, no grass, no nothing; it was about the worst piece of disaster this side of Death Valley. And what was more, everybody knew it. I grunted. ‘“‘ Who’s been kidding you?” ‘“‘ Nobody. That’s just the trouble. that’s why I’m worried.” “How so? Who’s—” ‘“‘ Horace Q. Keever.”’ “* Gosh!”’ I wouldn’t let myself believe it for a minute. “ How’d you find it out?” “ Asked at the Wilkins Realty Company to-day. He’s leased it on one of these blanket affairs—you know: all things on top of the earth and all things beneath the earth. Says he’s going to raise sheep.” “ But is he?” ‘There you are. Slim Pickens said he was an oil man, didn’t he? Well, { didn’t pay much attention to that until he showed CONSCIENCE. 567 up the second night. Then I began to wonder what an oil man was doing, staying over in Quagmire more than one day. So . when I handed him the palaver and the heart’s-ease, I asked: him a few questions about himself. He told me he was a real- estate dealer from Kianna, Iowa, and that he was new out in this country; just looking around for some investments. Then he came through with the information that he thought the Bar T Ranch might make a good proposition for some guy from Iowa who’d tired of the corn tassels and wanted the free and open air. It didn’t set well with me, so I started on his trail. Saw him hanging around the Wilkins Realty Com- pany to-day, and after he’d gone, I eased in there and got the dope. What do you sup- pose the game is?” | ‘“You’ye got me. But I know one thing: that bird never was in Iowa in-his life. He hasn’t got the ear-marks. Did you ever see anybody from Kianna who’d part from a thousand bucks without dropping dead?” “Did you ever,” Ed came back at me, “see anybody from: Kianna who had a thousand bucks to part from?” Then we both rolled over and kidded each other that we were asleep. I don’t know what Ed was thinking about, but I know that before morning I had figured out more ways to become thoroughly acquainted with Horace Q. Keever than you could shake a stick at. All of which didn’t amount to a hill of beans. Because when we faced each other at breakfast, Ed gave me one of those rock-bound looks from the coast of con- Science and says: . “ Lucius ’—whenever he was real serious he made it sound like Lucious—‘ I want you to make me a promise.” “ About what?” “ About what I told you last night. I know what you've been thinking.” “ Well?” : “It can’t be done.” ‘* What can’t be done?”’ “ I can’t stand for it, Lucius.” Ed wagged his head. ‘‘ We’re leading a square, straight life here, and I’m happy. And I can’t let you start on any kind of a wild-goose chase to steal this man’s land away from him or take his money or—” JOO (C(O) SS (C(O)