Adventure Magazine Cover — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

Clothes and the Man the stranger did show an amazing lack of sense of the fitness of things. Clothing such as he at that moment wore was as scarce as the proverbial roc’s egg in Sutton. It was utterly ridiculous in the eyes of Hawkins and his friend Peters. It consisted of.a light blue silk shirt with collar attached and a pocket on either breast, a black four-in-hand tie, khaki rid- ing-breeches, leather puttees, tan shoes, and a straw hat with a wide, flapping brim, the _ crown of which was decorated with a narrow blue ribbon-band secured at the ends on the left side of the hat with a neat silver buckle. Whether the horn-rimmed “specs” that straddled his rather prominent nose should be considered a part and parcel of his attire or classified alone is a matter for individual choice. Though he sat a saddle it was plain that he was a small man, almost effeminate in appearance, weighing probably one hun- dred and forty pounds. He was smoothly shaven and about thirty years of age. His eyes were a soft gray with a piercing quality that impressed one quite forcefully. His hands were small and shapely like a girl’s though deeply tanned. The most incongruous thing about him, however, and the one thing that was most responsible for the contempt displayed upon the faces of the two card-players, and yet the only thing about him that conveyed the least suggestion of the Western spirit, was the .38-caliber revolver whose pearl handle protruded from the holster swinging at the belt that girdled his slender waist. In a country where Colt’s .44, the famous “six-gun,” has played such a stern part in shaping the destinies of empire, a trifle in firearms like a pearl-handled .38-caliber re- volver was bound to receive the adverse criticism and ridicule it richly merited. Only a man’s tools have any place in a man/s country. Nor was the saddle in which the stranger sat with such perfect ease really and truly a saddle when measured by the Western yard-stick, unless one were gifted with imagination and a keen sense of humor. It had neither pommel nor cantle to speak of, and the stirrups were totally devoid of those ponderous leather contrivances which are at once the bona fide Westerner’s de- light and his assurance of safety. “Jack, is that there a saddle or a scrap of boot-sole?” whispered Peters ironically. them,” said the other. 29 “Tf I’d of knowed Bill Simmons had any of them kinda contraptions round his stable I wouldn’t of been speakin’ to him all this time. None a-tall, Jack.” “T hear them New York dudes sojournin’ over to Phoenix flops round in saddles like “T reckon he’s one of them dudes.” “T bet she’s a school-teacher comin’ in to give us light an’ learnin’,’”’ was Peter’s conjecture. “It’s mebbe a preacher” “My !” wheezed Peters. If the stranger heard he took no notice of the whispered comments. He sat silent and looked at the two men through the smoke of his cigaret for at least three min- utes before he spoke. eis “HOWDY, gentlemen,” them. aus have a hotel in this town?” “Stranger, this town happens to have a shack what some well-meanin’ folks favors with the name of hotel,” Hawkins replied. “°Tain’t nothin’ to go in fits about but she’s the best we got an’ suitable to the town. If you figger to feed an’ bed your- self there you'll find her down the road where you see that sign hanging out front.” “T’m not hard to please; three meals a day and a bed to sleep in suits me,” re- turned the stranger with a little smile that made him seem more effeminate than ever. “Aim to stay long?” asked Peters curi- ously. “Tt all depends; I may and I may not. How are you fixed for livery-stables?”’ “T reckon old Wilkins’ll let you put your mare in his corral down below the hotel,” said Hawkins. “Ask for him at the hotel. Anybody particular you was Jookin’ for?” “Possibly,” the other answered noncom- mittally. “Figgered mebbe we could point him-out to you if there was,”’ said Hawkins, his tone apologetic. - “Oh, I see. Yes, I am looking for a man by the name of Henry Buskirk.” Both Hawkins and Peters batted their eyes and sent each other a swift glance. When they turned their gaze upon the stranger again they looked at him with a new interest. “Henry Buskirk, aa. you say?” said Hawkins. ¥es, sir,’ he greeted EOPMIE OOOL< “May I ask if you happen to > (6)