Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

106 take yore saddle over to the bunk-house. There’s three empty bunks. Help yoreself. Then c’mon over to the little corral an’ bring yore rope. Got an outlaw stallion with a cut hind leg, an’ it’s a two-man job.” Loudon found favor in the eyes of Dou- bleday. The former Bar-S puncher did his work easily and well. He proved a better roper than Doubleday, and he was the equal in horsemanship of ‘‘Telescope”’ Laguerre, the half-breed buster. With Laguerre, Loudon struck up an in- stant friendship. Telescope—which name was the natural transformation undergone by Telesphore in a Western climate—was a long, lean man, with the straight black hair and the swarthy complexion of his Indian mother, and the mobile features and facile speech and gestures of his French father. When Loudon had been at the Flying M three days, Telescope suggested that they ride to town in the evening. ‘““‘We weel go to de dance-hall,” said La- guerre. ‘Fine woman dere. We weel dance a leetle, we weel dreenk de w’iskey, un we weel have de good tam. By gar, I not been to town for two mont. W’at you -say, Tom?” “TI’d sure enjoy goin’ along, Telescope, but I can’t,” replied Loudon, mindful of his promise to Scotty Mackenzie. “Dat ees all right,” said the large-hearted half-breed. ‘‘She ees my treat. I have more as one hundred dollar, un by gar! I wan’ for to spen’ eet. You are my frien’. You help me for spen’ eet. We weel burn up de dance-hall.”’ “Oh, I’m not broke,” said Loudon. “T’ll go with ye another time.” Laguerre, being wise in his generation, forbore to insist, and rode to town alone. The cook predicted a three-day orgy. “Rats! said Doubleday. ‘Ye don’t know Telescope. He never gets drunk. He can’t. He sops it up an’ he sops it up, an’ it don’t bother him a mite. Wish I had his gift. Why, I’ve seen him tuck away a quart o’ killer inside o’ three hours, an’ then hop out with his rope an’ fasten on a hoss, any leg you tell him. He’s a walkin’ mira- cle, Telescope is, an’ he’ll be back in the mornin’.”’ Loudon, oiling his saddle in front of the bunk-house, glanced casually at the cook standing in the doorway, and wondered for the twentieth time where he had seen the man before. On his arrival at the Flying M, Adventure Loudon had sensed that, in a vague way, the cook’s face was familiar. First impres- sions had taken no concrete form. He could not remember where or under what circumstances he had seen the cook. But that he had seen him, he was certain. The cook’s name was Rufe Cutting. Which name, however, was not enlighten- ing. Idly speculating, Loudon went on with his work. The cook returned to. the kitchen. Laguerre bore out the statement of Doubleday. He returned while the men were saddling in the morning. He did not appear in the least degree wearied. Hur- riedly changing his saddle to a fresh horse, he rode away with Loudon. “By gar!” exclaimed Laguerre. ‘I have de fine tam. I dance, I dreenk de w’iskey, un I play de pokair wit’ Pete O’Leary un two odder men, un IJ take deir money. I ween feefty dollar. By gar! I am glad I go to town, me.” “Ye sure ought to be,” said Loudon. “Fifty dollars. That’s right good hearin’.”’ ‘Pete O’Leary she wan’ for know ’bout you,” continued Laguerre. ‘Pete O’Leary asked about me! did he say, anyway?” “‘Oh, she not say eet plain. She walk een de watair. But I have been de scout; I have leeve wit’ Enjun; I know w’at ees een ees head. She talk ’bout Lanky quittin’ de Flyin’ M, un she wan’ for know have Scotty hired new man. She say she see Scotty ride out wit’ you, un she know your name. But I not say much. I tell Pete O’Leary to ask Scotty ’bout hees business, un I not say eef you work for de Flyin’ M or not. For I tink mabbeso Pete O’Leary she ees not frien’ to you.”’ “Well, he ain’t strictly hostyle anyway,” said Loudon, and he forthwith told La- guerre of his meeting with Pete O’Leary, and of the latter’s strange actions. “Dat ees varree fonny,’’ commented La- guerre. ‘‘Pete O’Leary she was expectin’ de frien’ or de message mabbe. But dat ees not so fonny as hees askin’ *bout you so moch. She worry ’bout you, un dat ees fonny. Why she worry eef she hones’ man? I tell you, my frien’, I do not trus’ dat Pete O’Leary. I would watch heem. I would watch heem varree sharp.” “Oh, I don’t believe it means anythin’,” doubted Loudon. ‘But I'll keep an eye skinned for him.” What CoOMmichoooks CO