Adventure Magazine, December 10, 1924 — page 138: what you’re looking at

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

116 that Alicia was bad. Oh, dear, no—not at all. But she knew that she was pretty, had wicked eyes and wore beautiful creations. Alicia would scorn to wear just clothes. But even an important railroad magnate hankers for the untrammeled spaces of the great outdoors at times; and this was why James Worthington Steele’s private car, the Lake Louise, was parked near a California lake, where the trout jumped almost off the pages of the railroad folders. And it was here that a message came to James Worthington Steele, advising that he come at once to straighten out a tangle, which greatly affected the interests of his company. Unfortunately the passenger service on this particular branch of the C. M. & G. was not too good. The train had left about thirty minutes prior to the telegram; so it was up to James Worthing- ton Steele to have the Lake Louise hooked to the rear end of a freight train, which would take him out to the main line. This especial freight train seemed to have been made up of all the decrepit rolling-stock owned by the aforementioned railroad; so their progress was not very swift. And it was hot in the Lake Louise. To make matters worse for James Worthington Steele, Mrs. Steele insisted that they play pinocle. And when Mrs. Steele insisted, there was nothing for James Worthington to do but agree. 3 Alicia was bored to distraction. This was not her idea of a good time. She had been communing with nature too long for one of her disposition. She wanted some one to make eyes at, except a perspiring brake- man, who swore openly at everything con- nected with the railroad business. - And with everybody in this pleasant mood, the train jerked to a stop at the sta- tion of San Rego. The train drew up far enough for the observation platform of the Lake Louise to stop midway of the station platform. Alicia lolled in an easy chair, mumbled at some sodden chocolates and wished she was far away from San Rego. Suddenly she sat up. BUT that is getting along too far in the story. ‘Slim’ Simpson weighed exactly two hundred and pounds. He was twenty-two years of age—and in love. He had been a per- fectly good cowpuncher until the love-bug inoculated his emaciated form; but now Adventure he was worthless for anything—except love. Sadie Thompson was the maid of his choice. Sadie’s pa was proprietor, or rather station-agent at San Rego. He owned a little home on the outskirts of San Rego, with honeysuckle, or something like that, around the door. Sadie was of a jealous and suspicious nature, and she had a sneaking idea that Slim had danced too many times with the school teacher the night before.. Anyway, she told Slim that she wouldn’t divide him up with any woman, even if there was enough of him to divide. Poor Slim had poked his nose to the sky and wailingly assured her that he was “her’n, and only her’n.”” But Sadie parted the honeysuckles, or whatever grew about the porch, and sent Slim uptown, pawing his way through a haze of indigo blue. Slim didn’t want a drink; he wanted solitude. And where may a man find more assorted kinds of solitude than on the heat scourged planks of a desert depot. He made up his mind to be a martyr—and melt. -But at the depot he ran into Jim Hilton and Barney McGonigle from the Lazy B ranch. They were trying to dig up enough money to pay for an express package, which had come C. O. D. They greeted him warmly and borrowed a dollar and eighty cents. It was at this time that the freight train pulled in. Jim and Barney went outside, carrying their package, and got one look at Alicia. Slim was resting his elbows on the ledge of the ticket window, when Barney toptoed back inside and nudged Slim. ‘“‘C’mere,” he whispered sotto voce. ‘‘My ——., Slim, the Queen of Sheber is among us. C’mon.” Slim followed. Who wouldn’t? Alicia had sat up. The box of soggy chocolates were forgotten. Here was raw material for her to work on. Back in the car she heard her mother say— “Hundred aces and a hundred and fifty trump.” Slim moved closer. From the front end of the train came the clatter of couplers as the engine moved ahead. Slim moved Closer. Just before the Lake Louise obeyed the impulse of the engine, Alicia’s left eyelid drew down in an unmistakable wink—a very expressive wink. Barney exploded and clung weakly to CoOMmicbook Wh) (© 5}