Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

WHISPERING SAGE, Melody had been silent for an hour, but as they tramped up the stairs, the nearness of a comfortable bed awakened life within him. In a mournful voice he bawled one of his saddest numbers: “T lost my watch, I lost my ring, I lost my wife And everything; Oh, I got bad luck Oh, I—” . The agony of his song brought Acklin to the door. He saw his new man. “ That you, Kildare?” he asked. “ Step in here a minute.” The cut of Kildare’s fighting jaw, his poise, and his calm, unemotional eyes told Acklin plainer than words that here was a buzz-saw when aroused; a man without excuses, hard-headed, and at his best when unbossed. “ Kildare,” he began, ‘“ Cash says he fancies you. I’ve rarely ever found him mistaken. We’re going to have trouble in the valley from now on. I want you to know where I stand. I ask no man to do for me what I wouldn’t do myself. It’s the rule on which this ranch is run. My father once said to me: ‘I hate orders and the giving of them, but sometimes they are necessary. And the man who can’t take them without asking why is no fit man to have.’ I’ve never found anything but wis- dom in those words.”’ This was a tacit admission on Acklin’s part that Blaze knew what had happened at the fork of the Webster. Kildare felt the question behind the words. He knew Acklin was asking him where he stood as plainly as though he had said so. Covertly the Big Boss watched his new man’s face and saw a shadow of impatience cross it. ‘IT guess I understand you, sir,” Blaze stated. The “ sir’ was his way of showing that he had no liking for the lack of frankness in the Big Boss. He meant it to mark a difference between them, of his making, and not Acklin’s. “Tm glad you.do.” Acklin sensed the intent of that “sir.” ‘‘ You get some sleep now. I'll call you about five. I want you to go into Paradise to-night, just to hear the news. Youw’re a stranger; you'll be 818 safe. I want to know what the talk is. I'll have a message for Bodine, too. No trou- ble finding the place.” CHAPTER VIL. AN ACE IN THE HOLE. NDER orders, Kildare took the road that led through the foothills to the river. Keeping to the south bank, he followed it until he came to the mouth of the Rebel. The wide shoal of sand the creek had carried there, the round, well- polished bowlders, and the deep marks of erosion in granite outcroppings told plainly enough that this had been a turbulent stream in the past. But now he could have stopped with his hands the trickle of water that wound through the dry sand. Purposely he struck west below the Rancho until he came upon the. well-trav- eled road that led into Paradise. It was the time of day when the ranchers in the valley were in the habit of going into town. More than one passed, giving Blaze a curt nod and a searching glance that was less than friendly. Before he reached the vil- lage he had met so many men that there could be no question what was bringing them in. - The town consisted of two general stores, a tiny, white church, a broken-down, third- rate hotel, and three saloons. About half a dozen buildings with store-fronts flanked the others on the main street. They had long since failed to house any profitable business and were now occupied as dwell- ings. Fifty or more small frame houses backed up this array. Three hundred yards north of the town a shallow creek, a tiny branch of the Web- ster, cut across the road. Except after a heavy rain, or in the early spring when the winter snow was going off, it was dry. Springs alone could account for the rank growth of cottonwoods and poplars that hedged it in. In the lea of these trees the Mexicans, who worked out during the hay- Ing, or on the roads at irregular intervals, had their homes. Blaze reined up in front of Chase’s store. The post office was located there. Seven DOOK C©