Adventure, February 1917 — page 190: what you’re looking at

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

he: i. . dD ties vi Ls + ae r i‘ He iz Ox-TLot oF yy The Crazy Gieam. ~ Ps N THE Crazy Gleam Saloon at t~ Sandy Flat there were always \ faro and poker for gentlemen who cared for a quiet game; a vast deal of bad liquor, and a little of good, for those who drank—and this included _ everybody; and, through the wide doorway to the left of the bar, lively music and a hardwood floor for those who liked to dance with pretty girls. “Pretty” as applied to the young women whose presence lent a feminine charm— somewhat tarnished, to be sure—to the so- cial atmosphere of the Crazy Gleam was not the ironical misnomer one might imag- ine. “Utah,” the proprietor of this popu- lar resort, boasted that he had “the likeliest girls on the Rio Grande.” Mak- ing due allowance for the fact that Sandy Flat was a ‘‘bad-man’s town” in the Texas chaparral, the boast might pass unchal- lenged. Besides, “‘likeliest” is a very vague term. A little out of the glare of the lamplight, Nick Ramsay sat at a table with the very prettiest of the dance-hall girls. Almost any other of the male habitués of the Crazy Gleam would have counted it a high com- pliment to be allowed to chat with Kitty Courtney for twenty whole minutes, but if. Nick regarded it as such he did not show it. Not that he lacked in courtesy. On _ the contrary, his bearing toward the spoiled beauty of the dance-hall was as polite and David Potter formal as if she were of the “‘first circles” of San Antonio or Houston. Tt was in the genial aloofness of his brown eyes and brown face that his lack of inter- est showed. Kitty was fully conscious of his indifference toward her. ment of it was only half humorous. “YT don’t know what in the world’s the matter with you, Nick,” she said in a voice surprisingly well modulated. ‘You don’t seem to like me a little bit. Yet I’ve been real nice to you. If it was anybody else but a little fella’ like you who maybe don’t know any better, I wouldn’t stand it, be- lieve me!” Her eyes and mouth mocked him. “Look here! Maybe it’s just be- cause you’re such a kid you don’t have a man’s feelings! Or maybe I’m not pretty enough for you! I reckon somebody else would try to entertain me some if I was with him—Duke Bartlett over chery, or Cac- tus Kimball, maybe.” She eyed him covertly to note the effect of this last shot. Kitty Courtney was almost as tall as the young man whom she thus challenged. Her figure was'slim yet warmly molded. Her cheeks were free of rouge, and their clear whiteness was sprinkled here .and there with the gold-dust of tiny freckles. Her eyes were a clear gray. But her chief claim to distinction lay in the tawny-red hair, always shining from sedulous brushings, that hung in a great braid to her waist. 188 » . MiGDoOok Her resent- (€@) m