Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

258 “The Civic League takes a lot of his time. It meets almost every night, and we sure are bringing things to pass.” Charlie turned and looked into Dowdy’s ineffectual face. “Civic League? We?” he queried. ““'Yes—that’s our new law and order league that Mike started,” explained Dowdy, assuming a look of importance. “Stringtown is on the up-grade. You wouldn’t know it hardly. There ain’t been a shootin’ in a month, and for thievin’ it’s about stopped. Mike sure has cleaned up the town since he commenced to marshal it.” Charlie’s face wore a look of utter be- wilderment. “Look here, Dowdy, I don’t know as much about this as I know,” he declared foolishly. and law and order—and what in hell’s Mike got to do with it?” ‘“‘T clean forgot, Charlie. You been so sick we clean had a chanst to tell you noth- in’.” Dowdy hesitated before the task of explaining all that had happened during Charlie’s lapse. Besides, he was growing weary of trundling the convalescent, and he wanted to stop and read the paper. His roving eyes fell upon Iris dismissing the pupils for the day. “Come here, Miss Iris,” he called. “ You're the very one to tell Charlie about Mike and how he scared the daylights out of the whole Cottonwood dive.” Charlie gasped. There must be some- thing in the man’s foolish assertions, after all. His eager eyes invited Iris, who hesi- tated in the door. “Yeah, tell him. I gotta go now,” said Dowdy, slipping away. There was no escaping the bitter-sweet task, and Iris began its. poignant recital. She told Charlie the whole tale, omitting only her own part. Charlie listened with eyes that glowed, but his lifelong habit of repression permitted but few words of praise. “You don’t say!” burst from him final- ly, as Iris described the taking of Char- lie’s assailant. ‘‘ He never done that, did he?” When Iris reaffirmed her statement Char- ‘What do you mean—marshal. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. lie went on with heightened color: ‘ The young rooster—it’s just like him! Dog- gone his hide, he never will learn no sense! ”’ But Iris would listen to no disparagement of her lover. “* Hush, Charlie! You know you are as proud of him as you can be. We all know how you love him. Why, you and he are the Damon and Pythias of the oil field— everybody says so.” “Them that’s up on book learnin’,’’ amended Charlie teasingly. ‘“ Heap of ’em ain’t as well read as you and me, Iris.” He slapped his knee. “ Damon and Pytha- goras,” he repeated happily.” “They all appreciate him, anyway,” de- clared Iris. ‘‘ You haven’t heard the best yet. Everybody went wild, and you never could guess what they did. Try, Charlie. Guess what Stringtown did.” “There ain’t no tellin’ what the stinkin’ hole done,” admitted Charlie. “The town incorporated,” said Iris, “and elected him city marshal!” “* No-o?” said Charlie. “Yes, they did! And guess what they call him?” she went on with mounting en- thusiasm. “‘T haven’t no idy,”. said the wondering Charlie. “* Hell and Repeat!’ ” quoted the laugh- ing Iris. ** Whoop-ee!”’ Charlie’s enthusiasm burst all bounds. He slapped his hands on his emaciated knees and tried to execute a Texas Tommy, sitting in the wheel chair, while he emitted a series of cowboy “ yips ” and “ yows.” His appreciation would have been ludi- crous had it not been so genuine. Iris, knowing the sterling worth of the plains- man, saw nothing but beauty in his de- votion to the man she loved. She sud- denly felt a great temptation to relate the whole tale to Charlie, to unburden herself of the secret that was stealing the roses from her cheeks and the glad light from her eyes. But not just yet was her vow of reti- cence to be broken, for Charlie had pre- émpted the confessional role for himself. Iris could scarce believe her ears. comiclbooolx C©