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

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

To prove his assertion he walked over to the stranger and began: “Tt’s a gift. Always could do it. Pre- serve your likeness in paper, the only man in the world who can do it. Can make your likeness as exact as any artist can draw it. Do it all in outline, profile preferred. I’m wakan witshasha. A mystery man. Wa- kantanka, the big sun mystery, smiles on me and gives me my medicine. Behold!’ He began whirling the paper and manipu- lating the scissors. The stranger watched him closely, alert and puzzled. His eyes widened as he glimpsed the growing outline. But it was only a glimpse, as the paper was worked back and forth too rapidly for the eye to follow. When it was completed and extended between the points of the scissors — the picture-man said: “Four bits. It’s dirt cheap.” The stranger stared at the cut-out figure in amazement. He noted that not only was the characteristic pose cunningly caught but that even the bandage about his head was indicated. With an inarticulate sound he snatched the paper and tore it to bits. Scissors’ lips opened to make a protest at such wanton destruction of art, but before he could speak the man was thrusting a dollar into his hand and was commanding: “Clear out! That silly stuff doesn’t interest me.” Scissors deftly pocketed the coin and stubbornly. insisted: “T’m wakan. The Sioux knowme. You’ve spoiled a mighty fine likeness of yourself.” “Be off with your jabber,” growled the stranger. Then as he realized how deeply the group at the Twenty-one table was interested in the scene he added: “You’re spoiling my luck. Now I must have a drink before I dare bet on a card.” He did not patronize the short bar at the end of the-hall but strode into the street and made for the eating-house. And as he walked he obeyed his musical impulse and began singing in a rich, rollicking voice: “T used to love a gal there; they called her_ Sally Black, I asked her for to marry me, she said it was a whack; But, says she to me, Joe Bowers, before we hitch ‘for life, You ought to have a little home to keep your little wife.” A rumble of laughter sounded from the Twenty-one table. With a flash of her white teeth the girl remarked— Adventure ““M’sieu is much wiz ze music.” “Sings the same old thing over and over,” complained a miner. “If he must hoot about ‘Joe Bowers from Pike’ why don’t he use different verses?” Seissors watched the man enter the eat- ing-house, and then wandered aimlessly about the room in search of customers. It was his second day in town and trade was not nearly as good as it was in Deadwood. After half an hour the stranger returned, and this time he did not halt by the door, but swung down the room and darted a lively glance at the girl. He halted and abruptly pushed his way to her table and thrust a hand in his pocket for some money or dust.. “No, no, m ’sieu. Not here. Ze game ees not for you.” He slowly drew forth his hand and swung his gaze about as if searching for some one who might be smiling over his repulse. More to spare the dealer a scene than from fear of the stranger the men continued grave of face. With a shrug of his shoulders the man passed on to the monte table. The dealer was listless; running off the cards for the loss or profit of half a dozen men. The stranger looked on sardonically for a min- ute, then bruskly asked— “What’s the limit?” “Fifty dollars,” answered the dealer without bothering to glance up. “How much behind your bank?” “Two thousand dollars.” Now the dealer deigned to look up. “Bet you two thousand dollars the next card is red.”’ The dealer dropped the pack before him _ and rapidly darted his appraising gaze over the challenger. Head hurt, partly intoxi- cated; yet drunken men and fools are pro- verbial for luck. “This is a monte bank.” “T know. Bet you two thousand the next card is red.” “Probably is. Probably you got a glimpse of it,” sneered the dealer. “Leave the deck as it is. Let any one here cut the cards. Bet you two thousand he cuts a red card.” “You're talking big, stranger. But money has the only voice we hear in here.” The stranger pulled a large bag from his pocket and dropped it on the table. “Thirty ounces in that.” ~~. He reached inside his flannel shirt and COMIC DOOKS (E@