Adventure Magazine Cover — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

7O “Tt’s the best thing we do.” This was big Doc. Coffin speaking. —_- The two behind the door heard a bottle- neck clink against the rim of a glass. “You better not take too much,” said Thompson. “Aw, who’s takin’ too much?” flung back Honey Hoke. “Well, you don’t see the rest of us touchin’ a single drop, do yuh? Speakin’ personal, I wouldn’t drown my insides with liquor when I’m due to go against a proposition like Racey Dawson.”’ Here was praise indeed. Racey thumbed Rack Slimson in the ribs. Rack turned his head and saw that Racey was grinning. Rack grew even more spineless. “You see,” pointed out Racey in a sar- donic whisper. “You’re up against the pure quill, feller.” Which remark at any other time would have been in the worst possible taste, but license is extended to men in peril of ‘their _ lives. “They’re at the table in the corner beside the bar, this end, ain’t they?” resumed Racey. “Ain’t it lucky the door opens that way?” | Then he was silent for a time while he strove to catch the accents of Peaches Aus- tin. He wanted to know if they were all four at the one table. But Peaches was either not talking or elsewhere. A moment later the question was answered for him by Honey Hoke. “Tf he slips by Peaches without Peaches seein’ him—”’ began Honey. “Aw, how in can he?” sneered Doc Coffin. ‘They’s Peaches camped down in front of the blacksmith shop right where he can see the trail alla way down Injun Ridge. A dog wouldn’t get past Peaches without bein’ seen, let alone a two-legged man on a four-legged hoss.”’ “S’pose he goes round the ridge,” offered the doubter, unconsciously hitting the nail on the head. “He won’t,” declared the confident Doc. ‘‘He’ll come boilin’ right in like he owned the place. Don’t you lose no sleep over that.” “Maybe Rack couldn’t find him,” pursued Honey Hoke, and an answering quiver ran through the frame of Rack Slimson. “Rack will find him all right,”’ said Punch- the-breeze Thompson. “He might be suspicious of Rack alla same,”’ Honey Hoke wavered on. — Adventure “Not the way Rack will tell him. Didn’t we fix it all.up just what Rack was to say an’ all, before he went? Shore we did. He won’t make no mistake, Rack won’t. You'll see.”’ “An’ anyway,” broke in Doc Coffin, “they’s four of us to take care of any mis- takes.” = At which the three laughed loudly. “I hope,” Racey whispered in Rack’s rather grimy left ear, “I hope you heard all them fellers said. Proves I was right, don’t it? Nev’ mine noddin’ yore head more’n once. Hold still. Yo’re doin’ fine. Yep, I’m shore glad we stood here a-listenin’ like we done. Makes me feel a heap easier in my mind about yuh. Otherwise I might always ’a’ had a doubt I done right. I’d a’ been shore, y’ understand, but I wouldn’t a’ been dead shore.” At which the unfortunate Rack came within an eye-wink of fainting. As it was his stomach seemed to roll over and over. He began to feel a little sick. “The bartender now,” went on Racey after a moment, “is he likely to mix into this?” “T dunno,” breathed Rack. “Who is he? I ain’t been in yore place for some time.” Rack told him the name of the bartender, and Racey nodded quite as if Rack were facing him and could see everything he did. “Then that’s all right,” whispered Racey. “T know that feller. He’s a friend of Mike Flynn’s. He won’t do nothin’ hostyle. Let’s go right in. Open the door. G’on, yore soul, or I'll blow you apart!” Rack Slimson opened the door and im- mediately endeavored to spring to one side. But he reckoned not on the strength of Racey Dawson. The latter swung Rack back into place between himself (Racey Dawson) and the table at which Doc Coffin and his two friends were sitting. It was a painfully surprized trio that confronted Racey and his unwilling barri- cade. The bartender was likewise surprized. He immediately fell flat on the floor. Not so the three men at the table. They sat quite still and stared at the man and the gun behind the body of their friend Rack Slimson. They said nothing. Perhaps there was nothing to say. ~ “T. hear yuh was expectin’ me, Doc,” drawled Racey, his eyes bright with cold anger. “Whatsa matter?” he added. ‘“‘Ain’t =) = comicboo (EO)