Adventure Magazine Cover — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

164 without aid. But I’m going to get you for that, mister, and I think I’ll start now. You chase me for a minute, and then I'll chase you. There’s a handy log back here, and I’m going after it. When I get it, if you're in the neighborhood anywhere, I’m going to caress that bald dome of yours with it. If there are any sprouting hairlets, I'll massage ’em for you.” Having thus given warning of his inten- tions, he ran back a few yards toward the stick he had seen as he got to his feet. It was a piece of a limb from a mesquite tree and was a handy weapon. Brannon had no intention of getting a beating from a man who outweighed him a hundred pounds. He knew what the oilfield rough and tum- bles were, too. His taunting words were too much for the half-insane bully to take. He charged around the ship and came bounding after the pilot. Brannon straightened, the stick in his hand, and smiled full in the face of the charging giant. As he came close Brannon dodged neatly. In trying to turn the big man slipped in the mud and went down. Men were running toward them. Brannon was over him before he could get up. “Make a move, and it’ll be at least ten minutes before you make another one!”’ he stated. But his warning had no effect. Apparent- ly the oil man did not lack nerve. Brannon, smiling a wintry little smile, tapped him accurately. Blood sprang from the wound, but he was not disturbed. “Not a matter of brute strength, but accuracy,” he congratulated himself, and turned to meet the three roughnecks who were now practically up to him. They slowed to a walk as they saw the motionless figure on the ground. One of them, in overalls that appeared to have been soaked in oil and then overlaid with miscel- laneous muck, took off a spotted straw sombrero and scratched his head. His tanned face split into leathery wrinkles. Brannon, who had half-expected a lot of trouble, smiled an urbane response. “He got so sore over that boiler he in- sisted on fighting,” he explained. “Who is he?” “General manager of the Solar Oil De- velopment Company,” responded the rough- neck. | Adventure He looked at Brannon curiously. ‘““You’re in a mess, mister,” he remarked. The other two men seemed at a loss. Their companions had lined up farther away, watching. ‘“‘Not much of a one,” Brannon returned carelessly. He squinted across the field toward a big car that was slipping and sliding along a road, toward the well. ‘‘Isn’t that Matthew Downs’ car?”’ he inquired. One of the men nodded. “T’ll be staying at Downs’,”’ pursued Bran- non. ‘Take care of the exalted G. M. and give him my regards when he comes to. He’s a nice, gentle chap, isn’t he?”’ The spokesman appeared suddenly to re- gain his loyalty. “He ain’t a man t’ fool with,” he re- marked significantly. “Can you fix the boiler? How much will it hold you up?” “Have to put up another—got one comin’ out from town fur another well. Coupla days. C’mon, boys. Let’s git him over t’ the shack. Better lay low, mister.” Brannon took his suitcase and trudged over to meet the fast-coming Mr. Downs, who had left the car and was picking his way across the field. He was as big a man as Brannon’s victim, and looked bigger by reason of a huge white sombrero which topped off ordinary business attire. Mr. Downs was possessed of a round and jovial countenance which was wreathed in smiles as he shook hands. “How come Grady to be sprawled out thataway?” he asked eagerly. Brannon told him. Downs’ face became serious, and then lightened again at the conclusion of the tale. “You can have anything Lockville’s got,” he told Brannon. ‘“Take your suitcase over to the car while I snoop around a minute and see if I can find out anything from this outfit. Thank somebody took a fall out of that Grady, If nothing hap- pens, I’m aimin’ to finish the job right soon. Be back in a minute.” » § HE WAS as good as his word. He Uy held brief converse with two or RS three of the men who surrounded the wounded boiler, and then strolled back to the car. The ground surrounding the derrick was a sea of mud, and he picked his way carefully. Brannon wondered as he watched the big Texan approach what COmiclboolks (©