Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

The Heart of the Range was followed quite as carefully by Racey Dawson. When Lanpher was free of the neat rows he looked up venomously into the face of Alicran Skeel, who had meticulously ridden round the garden. ‘T was wonderin’ where you was,” Lanpher.remarked with deep meaning. “T ain’t rootin’ up nobody’s gyarden,” Alicran returned cheerfully. “‘An’ don’t won- der too hard. Might strain yore intellect or somethin’. Ill always be where I aim to be#-always. You done scratched yore face, Lanpher.” Lanpher turned from Alicran Skeel and spat upon the ground “Alicran,” said Racey, holding his alert attitude, “the first false move you make Lanpher gets it.” “Tt ain’t makin’ a move,” said Alicran, thumbs \hooked in the armholes of his vest. “I got plenty to do mindin’ my own busi- ness.”’ “Huh!” Thus the skeptical Racey, who did not trust Mr. Skeel as far as he could throw a horse by the tail.’ “Shucks,”’ said Alicran, out of deference to the lady, “‘you don’t believe me.” “Shore I do,” asserted Racey. ‘Shore, yuh bet yuh. I— Careful, Lanpher! I can talk to somebody else an’ watch you at the same time!” “Tf Alicran was worth a—’’ began Lan- pher furiously, and stopped. “You was gonna say—what?” queried Alicran softly. “Nothin’,”’ said Lanpher sulkily. “Put yore gun away,’ he continued to Racey. , “T ain’t gonna hurt yuh.” “Now that’s what I call downright gener- ous of you,’ Lanpher,” Racey declared warmly. “I’d shore hate to be hurt. I shore would. But if it’s alla same to you, I’ll keep my gun right where she is—if it’s alla same to you.” “That'll do, Racey. Stop this rowing. I won’t have it.”” It was Molly Dale push- ing past Racey and standing with arms’ akimbo directly in front of his gun-muzzle. Racey let his gun and holster fail up-and- down, but he did not remove his hand from the gun-butt. “Who do you want here?”’ Molly inquired of Lanpher. Lanpher’s rat-like features cracked into an ugly smile. “Is yore paw home?” he asked. 10 145 ‘“Father’s gone to Marysville.” “When’ll he be back?” “Day after tomorrow, I guess.” “Yeah, I kind o’ guess he’d want to spend the night so’s he could do business in the mornin’, huh?” The Lanpher smile grew even uglier. “He has some business to attend to in the morning; yes.” “T kind o’ thought he waa: Yeah. You don’t happen to know the nature of his business, do you?” » “His business is none of yours, and J’ thank you to pick up your feet and clear — out, the pair of you.’ “Not so fast.” Lanpher S eetl depre- catory hands, and his smile became suddenly crooked. “I just come down to do yore paw a favor.” “A favor? You?” Blank unbelief was patent in Molly’s tone and expression. “A favor. Me. You see, yore paw’s got a mortgage comin’ due on the tenth, an’ the reason yore paw went to Marysville was so he could be there bright an’ early tomorrow mornin’ at the bank to renew the mortgage. Ain’t I right?” “You might be.” Molly’s face was now a mask of indifference, but there was no indifference in her heart. There was cold fear. Racey’s expression was likewise indiffer- ent. But there was no fear in his heart. There was anger, cold anger. For he had sensed what was coming. He knew that the previous Winter had been a hard one on the Dale fortunes. They had lost most of their little bunch of cattle ‘in a blizzard, and the roof of their stable had collapsed, killing two team-horses and a riding-pony. Racey had conjectured that Mr. Dale would have been forced to borrow on mort- gage to make a fresh start in the Spring. And at that time in the territory the legal rate was twelve per cent. Stiff? To be sure. But the security in those days was never gilt-edged; cattle were prone to die at inconvenient moments, and land was was not worth what it was east of the Mississippi. “We'll take it I’m right,” pursued Lanpher, lapping his tongue round the words as if they possessed taste and that taste pleasant. ‘“‘An’ bein’ that I’m right I'll say yore paw could ’a’ saved himself the ride to Marysville by stayin’ to home,” Oh, Lanpher was the sort of man who, as GOmichdooks 3 (C@