Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

THE BLOOD-CALL. ° ‘“ She can take care of herself,” Tau- rog grumbled. ‘ Better go up and get dressed, gal. Shootin’ Star’s ready.” ‘“‘Give me your six-gun, father, and I promise you Quade won’t give me any trouble.” | Taurog took out his revolver and handed it over to the girl. Both the wounded man and his master watched how Kirbie took the black, long-barreled .44 and spun the cylinder with her slender, tapering fingers. There was a deliberate coolness about those fingers which made Cow McGinnis and Taurog turn to each other with a knowing smile. Taurog whistled to the half-breed who had driven the wagon. ‘Bring on Shootin’ Star, Pedro. lady will be ridin’ to town.” The CHAPTER XII. QUADE COMES TO THE “ DEAD COW.” HE normal activities of the “ Dead Cow Saloon ’’ were suspended that night when it was understood that Quade was on his way to Lava hunting for Smoo Taurog. The fact that Taurog had ostensibly left Lava to meet Quade on the road did not lessen the suspense of waiting. The proprietor ordered another drink on the house for everybody present, but the effects of this wore off with surprising rapid- ity. Quiet again descended and was unin- terrupted except for groups of people talk- ing in low, ominous voices. A murder, they felt, was about to be committed out on the old sand-strewn county road. Or, in the event that Taurog and Quade missed, Quade would enter the town, and no man could conjecture what would happen. The proprietor ordered his negro band to strike up its music and the dancing was started again. The croupiers dealt cards as the games were resumed, and as much hilarity as possible was encouraged. But the proprietor knew that there was a mock note in the carnival spirit which had always been rampant in his place. Although the jazz band was louder than ever, there was a certain ominous undertone to it. And at short interludes between dance- 39 pieces the crowd fell to an abrupt and nerve- racking silence. The men at the gaming- tables looked around expectantly; the girls took their partners to places conveniently near exits; and the entrance to the dance- hall—the long, dim saloon which generally needed a bouncer to keep it from being jammed—was not automatically clear. Toward twelve o’clock the wind began as usual to sweep into the door and cover the dance-floor with sand. This was not objectionable to the dancers. If anything, ‘it improved the rough-hewn boards for pur- poses of that old pounding, noisy dance known as the Texas Tommy. Every min- ute the hall itself became more crowded, for people from the faro-house across the street, and the saloons on every . corner, came in to ask about the fight. The place grew hot as well as dusty, and the Chinese Janterns turned dim in the thickening clouds of tobacco-smoke. At one o’clock a hush fell upon the as- sembly of gamblers, girls and cow-men. The buffet door, the floor. around which was completely clear for a radius of ten feet, was opened and a man walked in. He was tall, athletic, with holster and cart- ridge-belt about his cord trousers; a baggy shirt and a lop-brimmed “ campaign ” hat. He stepped to the bar, tossed off a drink, and then walked into the dance-hall. For a moment he looked around at the gaping mob, and unconcernedly took a seat at a table in one of the booths. At the door of the proprietor’s office in a corner of the dance-hall stood Jug Trilles and Juan Scaly, hiding behind the protec- tion of a crowd of girls. Both men bore marks of their encounter with this new- comer. In fact, Jug Trilles’s arm was in a sling, and the shoulder so completely ban- daged he was forced to keep his head con- stantly to one side. Jug Trilles was old and crafty, but Juan Scaly was young and eager for his revenge. Scaly begged a gambler for his revolver, but Trilles put his hand on the Mexican’s arm. “ Not yet, Scaly,” he said. ‘ This is too sudden. You're goin’ to blow in and mess things up like the way we messed them up at the Tumbling L. Wait and let’s do this right so’s no blame will be on our own comiclboooks C©