Adventure Magazine Cover — page 173: what you’re looking at

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

When East Met West brim of his hat in his teeth, but manages to work it loose with his tongue. “T give up,” he wheezes. “I know when I’ve got enough.” Old Testament is still settin’ on the back- bar, but now he shakes loose and falls into Cleopatra. He kinda takes that big striped cat into a lovin’ embrace, but Cleopatra yowled once, kicked Testament backward and jumped straight at me. I throwed up that old Sharps, took a wing-shot at Cleopatra and then a great weight settled upon me. [ ain’t no fighter. None of my family ever won any diamond belts; but there never was a Harper that wouldn’t fight to save his own life. And I sure went into a clinch with that tiger. My eyes are too full of dust and pain for me to see just how the battle is comin’. We just kept on fightin’, thassall. Once we got separated and it takes us quite a while to get together again, but we did. I can’t see a danged thing and I don’t reckon Cleo- patra can either; so we locates each other by sense of smell. I dunno how long we fought. Scientists would probably differ as to how long a man and a tiger can fight without one or both of ‘em dyin’. [ ain’t got no feelin’ left within’ me. I reckon I’m kinda primitive just now, and I fights with tooth and claw. I hears voices around me, kinda cheerin’; so I puts up a supreme effort, as it were, and feels the tiger go limp. “My ——!” I hears Dirty gasp hoarse- like, “They’re still at it.” “T licked him—her,” says I. I ain’t got more than enough breath to say that. And then I kinda passed out. It seems like I heard somebody say: “Let him alone, dang yuh! He done jist what I’ve wanted to see done for a long time.” It was probably quite a some time before I woke up again. For quite a while I can’t figure out just where I am and what’s goin’ on. I seem to be layin’ across somethin’ that heaves and surges a heap. I manages to get one eye open and discovers that I’m on my stummick across a saddle. Out in front of me.and the horse is a queer-lookin’ figure. It’s got on a pair of overalls, which won’t stay up, barefooted, bareheaded. It looks back at me, and I recognize Dirty Shirt by his jiggly eye. Then I slides off and se:s down beside the trail. 171 “Where we goin’?” I asks. : Dirty comes back and sits down beside me. “It don’t make no difference, does it?” he asks. “They said that we was mostly to blame; so I took you away from ’em and went away. It wasn’t our fault, Ike; but they have to blame somebody.” “Magpie was mostly to blame,” says I. “We done the best we could. I dunno what you done, Dirty, but I know I saved Piperock from a lot of heartaches.” “You sure did, Ike,’ says Dirty. ‘That critter would ’a’ been the ruination of Piperock.” “That’s a cinch, Ike. But the worst of it is, you only stops the plague temp rarily.” “Thasso?” says L. Dirty Shirt. souvenir.” Dirty looks queer-like at me. “T dunno,” says he kinda sad-like. “A shock sometimes causes a feller to jerk back to his cannibal ancestors.” | I dunno what he’s talkin’ about, but [m too bunged up to care much, and my face is beginnin’ to crack. “How in —— did it finish?” IT asks. “All right, Ike. The animals all hived up in the livery-stable, and Wick Smith sold ’em to Paradise.” “The he did!”’ I exclaimed, or as much of an exclamation as I can use in my © condition. ‘And didn’t the Piperock Cham- ber of Commerce stop him?” “There was only one to vote agin’ it— and he was too danged near death to even squawk. They never even give him credit for tryin’ to save the tiger. I seen it all, Ike. When you lifted that old Sharps to shoot Cleopatry, Magpie got loose from Gunga Din and fell into yuh.” “Uh-uh-huh,” says I, feelin’ weak: “And then what did I do to the tiger, Dirty.” ‘Nothin’ a-tall. The wheels of progress got to turnin’, and Magpie got under the tire, thasall. In the language of Magpie Simpkins, I wouldn’t be surprized to see Piperock one of the big cities of the world.” “Well,” says I, “in the language of Ike Harper, whose spirit, liver, lights and giz- zard has been busted to make a Piperock holiday, let’s get to —— out of here, before the place grows too big. I don’t want to even be seen in the suburbs.” But she hasn’t grown any since. “T done my best, I wish I had the hide for a ecomicbooks.com