Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 111: what you’re looking at

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

Paradise Bend aftair, she look satisfy. She has foun’ w’at she hunt for. Are you me?” Loudon nodded. ‘“‘O’Leary’s takin’ a heap o’ trouble on my account,” he said slowly. ‘‘More dan I t’ought she would,” vouch- safed Laguerre. “I tell you, Tom, she have not de good feelin’ for you. W’ere ees dat dam hammair gone?”’ PY Laguerre were lazily enjoying the cool of the evening outside the door of the bunk-house when Doubleday came striding toward them. In one hand the foreman waved a letter. He appeared to be annoyed. He was. “Tom, Scotty wants ye to meet him at the Bend Tuesday—that’s tomorrow,” said Doubleday crossly. ‘‘Ye’ll find him at the Three - Card. it. to ——! An’ I wanted you an’ Telescope to ride the north range tomorrow! Which that Scotty Mac- kenzie is sure the most unexpected gent! Says he wants ye to ride yore own hoss. Dunno what-he wants ye for. He don’t say. Just says meet him.” Doubleday departed, swearing. ‘Pore old Doubleday,” drawled a bristle- haired youth named Swing Tunstall. ‘He sure gets a heap displeased with Scotty sometimes.”’ “Scotty ain’t just regular in his ways,” commented Giant Morton, a dwarfish man with tremendously long arms. ‘Scotty wasn’t goin’ beyond the Wagonwheel, if he got that far, an’ his letter was mailed in Rocket, fifty miles south. I brought her in from the Bend this aft’noon, an’ I no- ticed the postmark special.” “‘He wears the clo’es I ever seen,” said the cook. ‘An’ he’s got money, too.”’ ““Money!”’ exclaimed Morton. ‘‘He’s lousy with money. Wish I had it. Do ye know what I’d do? Id buy me a seven- teen-hand hoss an’ a saloon.” “I wouldn’t,”’ said Loudon, winking at Laguerre. “I’d have a hacienda down in old Mexico, an’ I’d hire half-a-dozen good- lookin’ sevoritas with black hair an’ blue eyes to play tunes for me on banjos, an’ I’d hire cookie here to come an’ wake me up every mornin’ at five o’clock just so’s I could have the pleasure o’ heavin’ him out o’ the window an’ goin’ back to sleep.” By which it may be seen that the moody Loudon was becoming more human. His THREE weeks later, Loudon and 109 remarks irritated the cook, who rather fancied himself. He allowed himself to be the more provoked because of a growing belief that Loudon’s habitually retiring and inoffensive manner denoted a lack of mettle. Which mental attitude was shared by none of the others. At Loudon’s careless words the cook bounced up from his seat on the doorsill and assumed a crouching position in front of Loudon. “Ve couldn’t throw nothin’! yapped the man of pots and pans. “Ye couldn’t throw a fit, let alone me! An’ I want ye to under- stand I can throw any bowlegged misfit that ever wore hair pants!” “What did ye throw ’em with—yore mouth?” inquired Loudon gently. The Lazy River man had not moved. His arms remained folded across his chest. He smiled pleasantly at the irate cook. “T throwed ’em like I’m goin’ to throw you!” frothed the hot - tempered one. ‘“‘That is,”’ he added sneeringly, “‘if ye ain’t afraid.”’ The bristle-haired Tunstall sprang be- tween the two. | “Don’t mind him, Loudon!” he cried. ‘“‘He’s only a fool idjit, but he’s a good cook, an’ losin’ him would be a calamity. He don’t never pack no gun neither.” “IT can see he ain’t heeled,” said Loudon calmly. “But he sure talks just like a regular man, don’t he?” “Regular man!” bellowed the cook. “Why——” The sentence ended in a gurgle. For Tunstall, Morton, and Laguerre had hurled themselves upon the cook and gagged him with the crown of a hat. ‘“‘Ain’t ye got no sense at all?” growled Morton. ** *T’s all right,” grinned Loudon, rising to his feet. ‘I understand. Turn yore bull loose.” The three doubtfully released the cook. That misguided man promptly lowered his head, spread wide his arms, and charged at Loudon. The puncher sidestepped neat- ly and gave the cook’s head a smart down- ward shove with the palm of his hand. The cook’s face plowed the earth. Spitting dirt and gravel he scrambled up and plunged madly at his elusive adversary. This time Loudon did not budge. Even as the cook gripped him round the waist Loudon leaned forward along the CoOMmicboooks CO