Adventure Magazine Cover — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

34 are a bad man, Buskirk, but not exactly in the sense you think you are. You are more evil than bad, though in a way evil and bad are synonymous.” “Go ahead, sonny,” invited Buskirk when the other paused to puff at his cigaret. “T like to hear you chatter; it don’t hurt me none. You’re a funny-lookin’ bug, an’ when I git tired seein’ you crawl around I’m goin’ to put my foot on you an’ hear you squash.” “Thank you, Mr. Buskirk,” said the deputy solemnly. ‘“Then before you step on me I want to tell you just what I think of you with all these gentlemen as witnesses. In the first place you are a fraud and in the next place you’re just a plain murderer. You’re the kind of man that scares women and children in the dark, but a man with the right idea about you could scare you stiff with a boo! A real man could make you lick his shoes. No, you’re not a bad man, Buskirk. A genuine bad man wouldn’t take the trouble to spit on you. You're nothing but a mongrel cur with a sore tail. That’s what I think of you, Buskirk.” THE crowd gasped and held its breath. Even Buskirk blinked his eyes with surprize. The little deputy was certainly justifying the town’s remarks ‘relative to his sanity. Ah, well, his end would be all the more horrible. Buskirk would undoubtedly pull him to pieces when. he got ready. “Done insultin’ me, sonny?” the renegade asked harshly. “Not quite. I want to tell you that I think you are a coward. As a bad man you are an awful joke. You’re as yellow as a ripe lemon, Buskirk, and when I say you’re a rotten coward I am_ready to ply my hand. This ought to show you up one way or the other,” The deputy deliberately flipped the burn- ‘ing butt of his cigaret in Buskirk’s face. The cigaret struck him on the forehead and sent forth a shower of sparks. Buskirk roared with pain and indigna- tion. He forgot his threat to squash the deputy under his foot. Nothing but instant death would wipe out the affront. _ He dropped his right hand to his side. His gun was not more than half out of the holster when the deputy’s revolver barked at him. Buskirk’s gun rattled on the floor and, howling and cursing, he grabbed his a Adventure right hand where thumb and forefinger dangled uselessly and spurted blood. Nobody there had seen the deputy draw his gun. Yet he had drawn it from full repose and a flash of lightning could not have been much quicker. The crowd was amazed with the expertness of the draw and the little deputy’s stock rose many points. “Before you make it necessary for me to shoot again, Buskirk,” the deputy said quietly, ‘let me warn you that I can out- shoot you any day of the week, so you might as well save your other hand to handle the reins when you and me ride over to Hamden in the morning to take the train for Yuma.” Keeping his man covered with the pearl- handled revolver the deputy strode to where Buskirk stood cursing and holding his injured hand and took his other gun away from him. ! “Now there is something else I have to say to you,” he went on, backing away a few feet. “Two years ago I was captain of a company of Texas Rangers. At that time you and your gang were operating at the cattle-rustling business along the river in Valverde County. I regret that I never had the pleasure of meeting you personally before my company drove you from the State. Perhaps you heard of me more or less down there. Ever hear of Logan Cole, Buskirk?” . The desperado stopped swearing an looked hard at the deputy>from Yuma. A sign of recognition came to his eyes. To a close observer he seemed to wilt and give down. In fact, at the mention of that name all desire for fight ebbed from him. “T see you know me,” said the deputy. “Yes, I am Logan Cole, brother of the late William Cole, of my own company of Rangers, whom you and your gang tortured to death from sheer brutality that night in the deserted branding-pen near Del Rio. You remember the occasion well; I see it in your eyes. A week or so later I left_a message for you with one of your Mexican sweethearts and I often wondered if you got it. I lost track of you for a while, but I knew I’d run across you sooner or later.” Buskirk swore at him. “T don’t think there would be any trouble getting the necessary requisition papers to transfer you~ to Texas to answer for the murder of my brother and at least another man that I know of. But as long as you JOOKS COMIC (EF)