Adventure, February 1917 — page 194: what you’re looking at

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

— pleasure of pretending to do so. 192 The orchestra had begun to play an allur- ing fox-trot. Utah, his fat face shining with delight, still led the grinning musicians,” or, at any rate, gave himself and them the Presently he began to sing aloud, not in a formidable bass as one might have expected, but in a thin, penetrating tenor that sounded even above the blare of the cornet, the strumming of the piano, and the drone of the accor- dions. Sang Utah: “There’s a fox—down in the rocks, _ And when the moon is shinin’ bright, Takes a whirl—with his girl And they keep it up all’ night. They prance!—and dance! - Do it right! right! sgh! right! right!” Kitty Courtney ‘stood up abruptly. “You're all right, boy,” she said. “I—I want to thank you—for what you’ve said about me. But I’d like you to dance with me—just once. Do you hear that fox- trot? Let’s show all this scum how a real. man—how a iele ee Seas ate with a—a {?? nice girl! They glided into the fox-trot. But at the first step Nick’s heavy Colt’s banged annoyingly against his hip. With an apology, he stopped and hee to adjust. his belt. “My gun bothers me, x , he smiled, me not dancin’ much lately.” “Why don’t you take it off?” she sug- gested. “Put it on our table there.” Then, as he palpably hesitated, ““You don’t reckon anybody’ll draw a gun on you to- night, do your” “You can’t ever tell,” he rejoined. Nevertheless, he unbuckled his belt and put pistol and sheath on the near-by table. “Now then, Kitty,” he said. SHE melted into his arms, and they floated softly away in the fox-trot. Her crown of tawny-red hair and her cheeks with their delicate gold-dust of freckles were close to his face. The melody, the more passionate for its ever-present undertone of melancholy, lured the boy and girl. ‘All about them rouged and powdered — girls frolicked with lithe and reckless men ‘in the manner which had made the Crazy Gleam dance-hall famous even in a hard — town in a hard land. But Kitty Courtney and Nick Ramsay danced with perfect propriety and decorum. The impeccable around. Adventure good taste of their very motion would have made their dancing distinguished even in a Boston ball-room. ‘When they had circled the room once, a looked up at him, her gray eyes very “You’re a nice boy, Nick,” she said softly. ‘“You’re a gentleman!’ And half way around she spoke again. “Your sister, Nick! I’m mighty sorry about her. I only hope if—if she’s dancing any- where now, she’s doing it with a fella’ like you.” At that moment they were collided with violently—so violently as almost to knock Nick from his feet. A girl screamed with pain behind them. Nick and Kitty fell apart and looked It was Hazel Kelly who had screamed, and Duke Bartlett stood glaring at Nick. “Where do you think you’re going?” demanded the tall gunman viciously. “Excuse me, Hazel!” said the boy solicitously. “I hope you——” “Shut up!’ broke in Duke savagely. “You go butting around here like you owned this place. You’re too gay!” There was that in the man’s tone no less than in ‘his words, in the glare of his pale blue eyes, that disclosed to Nick Ramsay that he stood in deadly peril. Duke was deliberately forcing a quarrel. Although his impassive face did not alter, Nick re- membered sickeningly that he had left his gun on the table where he and Kitty had been sitting. “I’m sorry if Hazel’s hurt,”’ he began. “But it was you who turned the wrong way, not me.’ . “You're a liar!” Nick’s face set. brown eyes. “T see through you,” he said evenly. know you now. You yellow dog!” Duke’s glance flickered from Nick’s gun- less hip over to the table where the gun lay. His pale eyes glared. In a flash he swung up his Colt. For a breath, perforce, he held the muzzle of the gun aloft while he uttered the single word that even the almost complete lack of scruple of that out- law community made imperativé. “Draw!” he snarled, "and threw down on Nick Ramsay at the word. The boy flung himself sidewise, not with the hope of escaping the shot of the A flame glowed in his ey SS (EO) EComichoo