Adventure Magazine, December 10, 1924 — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

Stark of Auburn party to the business. Havin’ started it, he come back to finish it, and the showin’ begun. V ‘IT WAS just at the start of hot weather—that slow, sleepy time when you feel like you want to lay out under a tree. Work bein’ slack that Saturday, I’d knocked all the men off at noon, and had gone to the major’s office to see about some repairs. We worked for a while with the estimates, but I could see the old man’s mind was on somethin’ else. After a while he come out with it. “There’s trouble in town,” says he, “that pay-roll thief of ours shot the sheriff this morning.” “Kill hime” I asks. “‘He’s. not dead yet,” says the major. “Frére got word the man had come back to see his family, and went after him alone in a grog-shop. No bravery in that. Just a foolish risk. Now there’s talk of a lynch- ing. At least that’s the best I could make of it. Too much fuss on the telephone.” He talked quick and jerky, which was his sign of real worryin’. And afterward he got up and begun to pace round the room. I knew what was on his mind. Mr. John had been made chief deputy. With June Frére out of it, he had the job of keepin’ order on his hands. And the sheriff was just as popular as his cajun friends were excitable. It was. bad, but I wasn’t goin’ to stick my head out again. I only said: “Yes, sir,”’ and waited for the major to make the next move. What it would have been I don’t know, because just then Silas, one of the teamsters, busted into the room. He forgot all about knockin’, and his eyes looked as big as my fist. ““Majuh,” says he, ‘“Bad-Eye, he’s down at the quarters. An’ they’s after him. We don’t want no mob.”’ The major stopped his pacin’ and thought a moment. Now that there was somethin’ to do, he was perfectly cool again. “T think T’ll have him here,” says he. “Right,” says I. “T’ll go get him. No need for you to come, sir. Bad-Eye’s just naturally yearnin’ for some one to take him in charge.” 63 Which was true enough, as I found out when I got to the quarters. I didn’t have to go in after Bad-Eye. He come out to meet me, and he was the tamest killer I’ve ever seen. He was all over mud from where he’d doubled in through the swamp, and his skin showed kind of gray underneath. I’d seen folks scared, but none like him. He was clean crazy with fright. “Save me, Mr. Nick! Save me!” he begged. “I didn’t go for to doit. I was drinkin’. Don’t let ’em git me! I didn’t go for to do it!” After we’d got him to the office he made for a corner, and hunched up, whimperin’ and shakin’, behind the safe. The major didn’t waste but one look on him. “Boy,” he asks, ‘why did you come here?” : “TI uster be your nigger,’ whines Bad- Eye. “I knowed you wouldn’t let ’em git me.” “Humh,” says the major. “Call up—er town, Mr. Wilson, and say we have him.” I knew what he meant by ‘“‘town,” but the best I could do was to send a message to Mr. John. Afterward I called up two or ‘three places and tried for some news. There was a mob, all right. Led by a big, cajun loafer named “Lazie,” it had begun by raidin’ the grog-shops back of town and drinkin’ all the liquor. This much I got straight. The rest was the usual mix-up. The mob was now wreckin’ the rest of St. Pierre. It had left on horseback to search outside. June Frére was dead. He was up and out again. By the time I’d quit and rung off nearly an hour had gone. All this time the major had been busy There was a locker of Winchesters against the wall, and he’d hauled ’em out and loaded ’em as fast as he could shove in the shells. Trust Bad-Eye to know his white folks. He’d said the one thing to start the old man’s fightin’ pride. “I got these rifles during the trouble with the Regulators,” says he. ‘“They came after one of my men then. [’ll be pleased to have them try it again. Suppose you go now and clear the quarters, Mr. Wilson. Tell them all to get clean out. These mobs are seldom particular about the right man.” I’d hardly got back before we heard a horse racin’ up from the rear. Grabbin’ a A) CoMmiclbool CO =