Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

416 plain. Mighty plam. She rides into the desert, headin’ for the Kelso water-hole. Her hoss throws her, an’ she gits to the water-hole in time to meet a hombre whol let her ride home with him. Mebbe she'll ride home with him. An’ mebbe—the water-hole bein’ off the trail, an’ no one a visitin’ it regular, there wouldn’t be no rid-. in’ done at all to-night!” Blandell’s voice caught in his throat as words about to be uttered were sucked back by the swift intaking of his breath. From @ point somewhere in the darkness ahead of him a huge body moved like a black bolt. Blandell sensed the movement and threw his right hand downward toward his gun holster. The hand closed around the butt of the pistol. But there it stayed; held there by a-huge hand whose fingers encircled it like a band of iron. For Shorty’s last leap had taken him astride Blandell’s horse. He was be- hind Blandell, and one of his big arms was around Blandell’s neck, the wrist under the man’s chin, bending his head back until it seemed his neck must break under the strain; while the other hand was crushing the bones in Blandell’s pistol hand. - The horse, snorting with fright and sag- ging from the weight on his back, was plunging in eccentric circles to escape his burden, while Blandell, cursing malignant- ly, was trying to shake off the swift retri- bution that had leaped upon him out of the darkness. The gun came out of Blandell’s holster, but Blandell’s paralyzed arm contributed nothing to the movement. The gun fell from his nerveless fingers as it cleared the holster and dropped into the dust of the slope, while Blandell, centering his efforts in an attempt to escape the terrible pres- sure at his throat, twisted and squirmed and cursed. Blandell’s breath was shut off. He felt himself being dragged sidewise, and he kicked ‘his feet free of the stirrups lest he fall and be dragged by the horse. “And then he was pulled out of the saddle by a force that would not be denied, and thrown headiong to the ground. From her position near Red King the girl had watched the fight. She had been ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, startled by the sudden attack; though she had seen Shorty’s movement toward Blan- dell long before the latter had become aware of it. Blandell had been ‘above her while on his horse, and a little patch of sky —velvet blue—behind him, had caused his figure to stand out plainly. And so it had been with Shorty when he had moved away from her. His huge fig- ure had been outlined by the little patch of sky at the instant he had begun talking to Blandell; and she had seen him leap at Blandell’s insult. Blandell’s horse had sensed the move- ment before his rider, and had wheeled m affight, thus making possible Shorty’s final leap to the animal’s back. . And now that the fight had ended so ab- ruptly, the girl stood near Red King, hold- |, ing her breath and wondering at the re- markable strength and agility displayed by the big man who had championed her. She knew Shorty was the victor m the fight. She saw him, a black sithouette m the patch of blue sky, standing, his head bent downward as he looked at the huddled figure at his feet. She heard his voice—it was low, deliberate; there was not a trace of excitement in It: ‘‘T reckon you're feelin’ a bit flustered— eh, Blandell? Well—get up!”’ The girl saw Blandell’s figure rise Into the blue patch. His was limp; he swayed back and forth. And then came Shorty’s voice again: “The lady you've slandered is standin’ pretty close, Blandell. If you’re figurin’ that she’s waitin’ for you to act the man you won't be a heap wrong. I’d malg it short, though.” ‘* Mebbe I wasn’t meanin’ just what I said,” mumbled Blandell thickly. __ Shorty laughed. He turmed and ad- _ dressed the girl. ‘“‘Knowin’ this hombre better than I know him, ma’am, would you call that a proper speech? Or shail I have him make it stronger?” “That will be sufficient—if you please.” ““T reckon that 7! be all, Blandell,” came Shorty’s voice. “ Your hoss is kind of figity. If I was you I wouldn’t make him wait too long. He wants to be goin’.” 2A JOO COMNMUC SS (CO