Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

940 girl. Qh, yes, a little, but in a day or two I'll be all right. Get me a horse and I11l follow you. What are those men? Guards, aye?” Cal broke out into a quiet laugh. “Yes, you're a prisoner,” the girl re- plied. She held up his head, laving the bruised bleeding face, and as she did this she heard him say: “'You’ve got me—yes. There’s no doubt about that. I’m as helpless in your hands as you were in mine—out there in the heart of the desert.”’ The girl answered: ‘ Yes, as helpless as I was! And now you are my prisoner,” and then she added: “‘ My desperado.” CHAPTER XXVIII. THE LOST CAUSE OF BARKEEP JO. T was several days before Scrub Hazen | reached Mesquite with his gathered drags. In the little ‘“ one-way ” cattle station news of his disaster had preceded him, and something of the romance which had been going on in the little stage stop out on the prairies called Red Town had drifted to the station. The more civilized populace of a railroad community was not disposed to believe the tales it heard. Such an event as a rodeo with a prize the hand of a pretty girl was news which should be regarded with amused wonder and certainty to some extent with disbelief. And now Scrub Hazen—one of the prin- cipal characters of the drama—had come to town and was drowning his losses and his gains, his accomplishments and his regrets in the largest saloon dance hall in town. The population of Mesquite flocked to the bar to drink with him and to hear his ver- sion of the rodeo and its outcome. Now that his steers were at last packed away in the loading pens, Scrub drank an unstinted amount of jackass brandy. And as he drank he began to think that he had not come out as a very big loser after all. The amount of steers lost in the stampede—as he pointed out over and over again—was nothing compared to the size of his herd. In fact it was not even to be compared to the toll that the maggots took every spring from his crop of calves. It suddenly » ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. dawned on Scrub Hazen that he had accom- plished everything. His herd was the herd of a cattle king. He wasrich. As he drank more, he realized that he was as rich as any man needed to be to achieve happiness. Furthermore, most of his life worries were over, for he believed there was now a chance of a man taking care of his cattle outfit so that from then on he could, as he had once expressed it, ‘“ retire for a life of rest and red-eye.” ‘“‘ And who is this here man you're talk- in’ of?” Soggy Jackson, the bartender, asked him — partly to stimulate the cele- bration for which he was supplying liquor. “That I couldn’t tell. Leastwise not yet,” Scrub said. “It’s just a humble opinion of mine. You see the bird who’s goin’ to manage my cattle farm had orter be connected with the partnership—like as one of the family. Whoever the gal takes for her husband will be that thar man.” “T thought the rodeo was to pick out that man?” Soggy Jackson suggested. “It was. And I'll tell you men—all you bull-whackers and stockmen and citizens of Mesquite: it was me that thought of that rodeo. I said, ‘ Let’s have a rodeo and the best man wins the gal!’ I said. And every one else figured that was the bunk. They did that in the old days when knights in armor rode their cayuses out into a corral and punched each other with long spears the size of snubbin’s posts. Sure enough, gents, I’ll announce here and now, and stick by. what I says. They did it in the old days and I say they’d orter do it now. I give this here rodeo for to pick the best man for my gal. And damned if I waren’t right!” ‘You're always right, Scrub. After this we'll always believe you,” said the genial barkeep. “Yes, sir, you tell ’em, Soggy, after this. You tell ’em it was my idea! You tell *em Scrub Hazen had a rodeo for to find the best man and the best man won!” Above the saloon where Scrub Hazen was holding his meeting there was a rooming house—the only one in town—and it was here that Cal Triggers had been brought to have his wounds attended to by the town doctor. In the mow downstairs one person CO 1OOOLK C©