Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

44 Joe ’n’ me use to laff at ‘em. Fallin’ over silver an’ not knowin’ it!” “Then why didn’t you and Mr. Joe locate claims?” she asked, round-eyed. “Who? Mer Lawd! what would I do with it? If I could swap a silver-mine fora lake o’ whisky located at th’ foot of a moun- tain o’ terbaccer I might hunt silver. But J never see anything yet took from th’ ground that ye could eat, drink, smoke or wear. Too heavy to cart round, is silver.” “Father doesn’t care much if new fields are rich or poor,” she naively confessed. “All he asks is to get there with his stock before the crowd finds 6ut the truth. He saw the Frazier River rush, ending in noth- ing, and he made a good trade. He's a trader. He never goes after silver or gold except as he trades for it. Let him get in while a rush is on and his iron skillets are worth their weight in silver. A rush may be all borrasco for the miners and yet all bonanza for him.” Much of the rest she had to tell had been narrated already by Laramie. Yet repeti- tions from her lips were sweet music in Reason’s ears. Her father’s men _ had deserted at Fort Laramie to try their luck in the Colorado diggings. The Missouri River talk was of nothing but the great fortunes awaiting the bold of heart. After his crew quit him the trader had been unable to hire a néw crew for the Mormon country, and had finally accepted Shirley’s offer to take the wagons through to the infant town cradled by the turbulent South Platte and bisected by Cherry Creek. “Tf the men desert us can we take, the wagons through, Mr. Reason?” she asked. ‘We'll make a spoon or spile a horn,” he replied, glancing at her, then quickly turning /aside. “My father’s venture.” “Oh, he’ll clean th’ platter all right, miss.” “To you think the men can be trusted? Will Shirley be satisfied simply to leave us and go on ahead?”’ “Oh, sartainly. He likes yer pa an’ we folks like a Pawnee loves a Cheyenne.” “You're speaking sarcastic.” “TLawd, miss, I didn’t go for to swear,” he apologized, his face burning with consterna- tion. “TI jest went for to say that Shirley an’ his crowd smell ’bout as good to me asa Kiowy camp in August. But don’t ye fret. Me ’n’ ol’ California will see ye through risking much on_ this Adventure flyin’. ‘We hold th’ keerds, an’ them white- livered pups has got to draw some to beat us.” This, for Reason, was a record-breaking speech. Realization of the fact rather appalled him. He collapsed conversation- ally; nor could she induce him to speak again except in monosyllables. Misconstruing his silence as a distaste for her further company, Miss June rode ahead and joined the wagons just as Shirley gave the order to halt and make camp near a small stream. CALIFORNIA JOE rode in as s {7 Reason came up from the rear. The | mules were grazing and the men were boisterously gathering fuel for the camp-fires. “Ye could make a few miles more mighty easy,’ commented Joe. Shirley whirled on him and harshly re- minded him— ‘“T’m wagon-boss here, and I’ll stand no chin-talk from any outsider.” Joe’s eyes glowed, but he held his tongue. Finding Laramie, he asked if the men’s high spirits could be due to rum rations. The trader said it was impossible. ‘Then there’s some game on,” declared the trapper. “If they was drunk I could understand all this hippity-hoop business. Injuns will sing their Hay-a! Hay-a! jest to keep in practise; but them fellers won’t chirp up ‘less they’re drunk or thinkin’ up deviltry.” ‘The worst to happen, M’sieu Joe, is for them to leave us, said Laramie. ‘But Long Shm, ver’ brave man, may hear things. all speak to him.” The trader strolled carelessly about among the men until he found himself by the side of the disgruntled-looking Slim. To Slim he murmured a few words. Slim said something from the corner of his mouth and continued his gloomy study of the heights ahead. Laramie returned to Joe and reported: ‘““He says something is up, but he doesn’t know what. ‘The men don’t trust him be- cause he said he would stick by me.” “Let ’em plan. We'll watch,” growled Joe. “But Vl be derned if I can figger their game ’less they think to steal th’ wagons, which would be foolishness.”’ He went in search of Reason and ap- prised him of his suspicions. Joe found his CORMICLOO S (C@