Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

§20 or eight men lounged on the planked side- walk in front of it. He gave them a nod and went in to drop his letters. Old man Chase and his sons were busy, so that he passed out unnoticed. Benavides’s place was down the street several doors. A small crowd stood before it. Half an hour ago these Basques, ex- citable like all Southern races, had been noisy enough. They were glum now and silent only because they had talked them- selves out. The loss of the water had been discov- ered before noon. Several of them, Este- ban included, had ridden up the creek to find the cause. They had not gone far be- fore they ran into the Double A wire. Brother Jones had been waiting on the other side of it. He was hardly hospitable. When they had sought to crawl under the fence, he had waved his gun with an alarming lack of regard for their safety. “No, no, niente, amigos,” he had cried. “You want to watch out, cuidado! I’m sorry; but I ain’t foolish.” They had tried to engage him in further talk, but he had told them to go to Acklin and to several other destinations more re- mote. As a consequence, the Double A, and not Bodine, had become the object of their hatred. Remembering the past, it was not hard for them to lay this new outrage at Acklin’s door. But like the sheep they owned, they needed a leader before they could strike back. Some of them had been in town all afternoon, drinking and cursing their luck. But whisky, contrary to the rules affecting most people, only seemed to calm them and make them more deter- mined to fight for their rights. In this they showed how greatly they differed from the Mexicans especially, with whom they were often confused. Blaze found the saloon filled. At a table six men played cards. They were the only ones present who seemed untouched by the general air of disaster. Blaze bought a drink. He understood very little of the conversation going on about him; but that these men were worked up and only awaited a leader, he did not doubt for a moment. The card game ended. Blaze caught the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. reflection of the players in the fly-specked mirror over the back bar. “You boys. are too dod-gasted lucky for me,” the smallest of them cackled. “I been going for the case card every time.” Benavides had been sitting in. He smiled at the man in the faded clothes. Faded was the correct word. His trousers were baggy; his hat warped out of shape, the band of it raveled and wind-whipped; but one forgot these and remembered only the lack of color in him. Everything he wore seemed to have settled into a sedate greenish-gray; that is, save for his eyes. They still held their hazel hue. “¢ Joe,” the Basque called, as the little man got up, “ have a drink on. the house before you go. It’s time for a celebration when you lose.” Blaze moved over, and the faded one edged into the bar beside him. “T’ll call that bluff,” he cawed. “I was a child when you set ’em up the last time, you old tightwad.” In the mirror, Blaze could see that he had caught the little man’s attention. It was half dark in the saloon, but he sensed the alertness in the other’s eyes. Blaze reached for his glass to finish his drink. “Well, if it ain’t old Timberline,” the little man exclaimed. The sound of his old nom de guerre caused Blaze to freeze with his glass in mid- air. Until that second he would have staked his life that no man north of the Humboldt could have called him by that name. Blaze set his drink down and turned to scrutinize his neighbor. Recognition came quickly. . “‘ Joe Kent!” he cried. “ What are you doing way over here, Tuscarora?”’ “Why, I been over ~this-a-ways some time. What you doin’ here?” Blaze smiled and winked an eye at him. ‘Side me out of town a ways and I’ll let you guess. But lay off that Timberline. It belongs in my wicked past. I’m headed for Webster Creek. That out of your way?” Benavides waved him good-by as he and Blaze left. Tuscarora was a fixture in the valley. He had won his sobriquet placering comicloool C©