Adventure Magazine Cover — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

Pay Gravel “Ts Joe wearing any guns besides his derringers?”’ whispered Dinsdale in Scis- sors’ ear. For he was wondering if Kitty the Schemer had succeeded in compel- ling her lover to prove his love by gun- play. “Oh, no! Don’t even know he’s got his derringers. Dve been hunting for you quite a while. He got tired and came with me. He’s outside here, stewing and fret- ting. Wish you’d come; he’ll blame me if you don’t.” Throwing a bag of dust on the bar to clean up the score Dinsdale followed Scissors to the street. The two found the jam so great that it was several minutes before they could force a passage. Once clear of the crowd the eccentric crossed the street to the corner of the theater and called for Dinsdale to follow. San Juan Joe was standing by the side of the building. “What’s the trouble? You’ve broken up my party,” saluted Dinsdale. “Tm trying to do you a good turn,” , growled the gambler. “Hold on! Don’t tell me you’ve come to warn me against Bandy Allen!” “Allen? Are you crazy or drunk? I’ve got something that’s more important than . fool talk. We must go where we can be alone.” ‘““There’s my room at the Bed Rock.” “With every word above a whisper rat- tling all over the place. No, my place is the best. We'll enter by the back door.” “Can’t it wait?” asked Dinsdale, gazing across at the hotel. “T didn’t think so when I quit my tables and a big private game,” was the grim reply. “Hear my talk and then do as you please. It’s your game, not mine.”’ They walked up the street in silence and circled the big tent to the kitchen entrance of the house and gained San Juan’s room unseen except by some of the kitchen help and the hall-boy. San Juan pushed for- ward the cigars and sinking into a chair peevishly complained— “Why in did you have to have an- other run-in with Kitty?” “T haven’t. I ran away. She held me up. She’s mad because I won’t fall in love with her so she can break my young heart. Say, Joe, you haven’t called me away from my fun to listen to any Kitty stéries?”’ “No, no. Only she’s red-hot against you. I’ve just come from there. She 113 swears you'll swing. When a woman talks that way the man usually gets hurt, or finds the woman is in love with him and decides he’s in love with her. In your case it’s a matter of losing either way; for I’ll do my best to kill the man who makes up to Kitty and wins.” “Don’t oil any guns for me. Deal me out. She doesn’t interest me. She an- noys me,” wearily said Dinsdale. “I thought you brought me here to hear a big talk.” “T have. Kitty and her ravings hap- pened to be on my mind. And I’m reckon- ing you'll need a heap of friends. Ive just received by night-stage a line from an old friend in Cheyenne City. Been trail- ing you ever since I got it. Heard you and Kitty were on the street together. Went to her place. Asked for you, and then she began shooting! I sent Scissors out to find you, and the fool stopped to sell his pictures in every place he entered. Then I had to go along with him to see he did his errand. Look at that.” And he passed over a piece of paper con- taining one line in writing. With elevated brows Dinsdale read— Jim Omaha making your way—Cheyenne. For once San Juan had the satisfaction of seeing Dinsdale wince. It was a facial betrayal and lasted only a second. As he carefully smoothed the paper and refolded it and handed it back his features were ex- pressionless. He simply said— “I’m glad you sent for me.” “Qmaha’s never been up here. He works only on railroad cases,” whispered San Juan. “Tt may be the Ogalala affair.” With a twist of the thin lips which was meant for a smile Dinsdale said: “‘It easily could be that—if he’s still working for the railroad. Who’s Cheyenne?” “Just a friend. He signs his messages that way. He knows I meet some pretty good boys in my business who may have slipped and who may be wanted. Some- times he tips me off. Ifa friend is in for a bad spell I pass the word to him. That’s all. Does Omaha know you by sight?” “Y don’t think so.’ And _ Dinsdale drummed the table gently, his eves filled with a far-away look. “I know I never saw him to know him. What’s he look like? What’s his real name?” “Like yourself I never saw him to my COmicloooks (C@