Astounding Science Fiction (British Edition) — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

124 buy drinks for the house; guess you think on account of that I ain’t got no complaints comin’.” Flapjack snorted at my words and stopped. “Oh, you think we oughta make camp, huh?’ I said. I let my eyes go around the landscape. “All right, I guess one place is as good as another. Ain’t no water within a dozen miles anyhow.” I took the pack off Flapjack’s back and began to set up my little tent. I’d never packed a tent before I’d made my strike—or Flapjack had made it for me—but that hombre in the store had caught me in a weak moment with money in my pocket and he’d talked me into it. A piece of foofaraw, but it served Flapjack right for hav- ing to carry it. Flapjack watched me for a minute and then ambled off to size up the possibilities of a little graze or such other grub as a burro can rustle up in the desert. I knew he wouldn’t wander far and that I didn’t have to watch him or hobble him, so I minded my own business and let him mind his. It wasn’t no exaggeration, what I’d been telling him. He’d been acting up for days and the reason was plain to see Flapjack wanted to get back to where he could get his ration of beer every night, and some good fancy feed to top it off with. Ever since he kicked over that rock and made the silver strike, he’d had credit in every bar in every town around here. He just walks in and the bartender fills a bucket with beer for him and he drinks it down, and then he ambles on to the next bar. He’s crazy about beer. Holds it pretty well, too. Maybe I should never have made the arrangements, but, like I said, it was Flapjack that made the strike, so I thought it was only fair. Even if once in a while I regret it, like the ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION time he got in the fancy place in Crucero by mistake and got out in the middle of the fancy dance floor and— well, you can’t expect a burro to know better than that, can you? And there weren’t any people dancin’ just then anyway so I don’t see what they made such a big fuss about. Funny thing, Flapjack never done anything like that in a place where he was wel- come, and I sometimes wonder. Espe- cially after what happened with the Martians. But we ain’t quite got to that yet. Anyway I was just jawing at Flap- jack; I was gettin’ just about ready for a trip to town myself, and maybe that’s why I was takin’ it out on him. I like a trip to town just as well as Flapjack does, only I ain’t there no length of time before I get fed up with all the noise and the folks and the buildings and sleeping in beds and I just got to get out and head for the hills again. That’s the only thing me and Flapjack really differ on; he’d rather stay longer. I was makin’ supper half an hour later and Flapjack probably thought I didn’t see him go into the tent. He was scoutin’ around for something to steal, Flapjack’s the stealingest burro I ever did see. If he thinks it’s some- thing I want, he’ll steal it quicker’n you can say “Holy Hominy,” even if he don’t like it or want it himself. I recollect the time I was gettin’ tired of the way he’d swipe pancakes in the morning, so I cooked up a batch with lots of red pepper in them. You think he’d let out a peep? Not Flapjack. He was so happy about getting away with swiping my pancakes that he didn’t care how awful they tasted. Flapjack’s a caution, Flapjack is. But I started out to tell you about the Martians. Maybe I better. It was coming on morning; let’s see now, just to be accuratelike, it must’ve EComichooksco im