Adventure Magazine Cover — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

80 Hale’s thrusting glance came to a halt on a box stall at the rear of the stable. The door was closed and the shadows in the corner had made it easy for him to miss it in his first sweeping inventory. “Y’d think it would be hot for a critter inside that contraption,” he said in a loud voice. As if the occupant of the stall wished to indorse the remark there came the thudding of hoofs and a low squeal. Hale leaned his rifle against a hay-mow and hooked his thumbs in his belt and faced the open door. Kolb observed that he was smiling, and yet there was something in the half-closed eyes that canceled any sug- gestion of merriment. “We don’t like to have strangers around here unless they have business,” bruskly informed Kolb. “That’s a mighty good rule,” agreed Hale, and nodded his head vigorously. “A mighty good rule. You ought to live up to it all the time.” The men at the door began sidling inside. Ikach time Hale spoke the hoofs in the stall became more clamorous. Hale put two fingers to his lips and sounded a shrill whistle. Immediately he was answered by a shrill squealing and a violent tattoo against the door. “Git out of here! You’re skeering my stock! Git out!” yelled Kolb, brandishing his arms wildly. The loungers noiselessly pressed forward. With a flirt of his hands Hale drew his guns and held them half raised and appeared to be contemplating them admiringly. He explained, ‘You fellers understand that these are .36s and not them measly .31s that strangers from the East fetch in here.” “What do you mean by coming in here and drawing guns?” cried Kolb as he backed away. “Think you can scare me or my friends with your threats?” “Threats? Scare you?” blankly repeated Hale. ‘Lordy sakes! I was just saying that these are .36 caliber guns. When you buy a gun git this kind. Don’t fuss with the .31s. I see one of your friends favors the new navy .44, only he hasn’t got it slung on right. They’re sure powerful. But I’ve tried all makes, and for blowing a hole through a horse-thief, or stopping a road- agent, there’s nothing so neat and business- like as the .36. And don’t buy the paper cartridges. They ain’t water-proof. This _ sneaking little rat. Adventure country’s dry but you never know when you're going to fall into a crick. Buy these and run your own bullets.” And he tapped the metal flask with its small measuring stopper and the set of molds hitched to his sagging belt. “Now Ill git my mare, and I'll be needing a heap of room.” The men remained stationary as Hale slowly backed toward the stall. Kolb began to curse loudly. door yelled: ‘Wait a minute, stranger! I’m an officer of the law. Move another step at your peril.” Hale replaced his guns and replied— “Folks didn’t ought to stand in peril of their lives from an officer of the law.’’ “T’m mighty glad you’ve come, Deputy Sheriff Swanger!” greeted Kolb. ‘This man acts like he was crazy. Sun or whisky, I reckon.” With brisk step the deputy-sheriff ad- vanced toward Hale, a finger touching the badge on his woolen shirt. Hale quietly explained: “T’m from up Oro Fino way. Been trail- ing my stolen mare. She’s in that box stall.” “The sun or whisky has melted his few brains into fat!” cried Kolb. ‘That door ain’t been opened to-day.”’ “Tf that’s true then you’re worse than a You’re plumb bad,” gritted-Hale. “To keep a critter boxed up like that in weather like this!’ To the deputy, ‘‘She’s all black, smooth as satin, with a white star on her right hind quarter. Her name is Pinaquana.”’ A terrific kicking greeted the name. Hale smiled and con- tinued. ‘It means in Shoshoni ‘A smell of sugar,’ she being that fond of sweets.” There came more squealing from the stall and a continuation of the tattoo on the door. “I want to be legal, but I’m in a hurry to give her some fresh air. Go ahead and open the door. Hi, girl! Just a minute, Pinaquana!”’ For the next thirty seconds it seemed as if the mare would batter down the door and effect her own release. She only de- sisted when Hale called out for her to be quiet. Swanger glanced up and down the tall figure and disapproved of the heavy belt-guns. He had come from the Tusk after sending Sydney Bill to the sheriff. On passing the stable one of the loungers had informed him of what was going on Some one at the COMmicaoo S (C@ iin