Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

442 e remembered how two expressmen had sweated and grunted over that trunk, but Cousin Joe shook his /head and climbed down from the buckboard. He was a short man, bent from riding horseback, and he walked withthe shuffling hobble of the old cattleman, putting his weight on his toes. He was short, but exceedingly broad, and when a couple of men had helped ‘him to ‘shoulder the trunk he came back, hobbling _ along with it and showing no apparent dis- comfort. He dumped it in the back of the buckboard, which heaved and groaned under the burden. “ Might I ask,’ said Ugly Joe, as they climbed up to the front seat, “ if them are all clothes you got in that trunk?” ~ ‘“ Mostly,” answered Patricia. “H-m!”? remarked Cousin Joe, and started his ponies over the homeward path. For half an hour they jolted along in silence over what might have been a road. ‘“‘ Maybe,” said Ugly Joe at length, “ you figure on starting a store with that many clothes?” Now Patricia had prided herself on trav- eling light into the wilderness. There were only a few negligees, some house-dresses, morning-gowns, and several riding and walking outfits, as well as one or two tail- ored suits. She had not brought a single evening dress! Accordingly she stared at Ugly Joe in some surprise, but before she could reply he went on: “You're considerable well fixed for clothes and a name, eh? What’ s your name °® ?”? ‘“ Patricia,” she answered. “ Patricia? And what do folks call you for short?” ° “ Nothing else. Personally, I don’t be- lieve in nicknames.” ‘“ D’you mean to say,” said Ugly Joe, much moved, “ that when your ma or your pa speaks to you they always take that much tongue-trouble and spend that much air? Patricia!”’ He did not repeat it scoffingly, but rather with much wonder. Patricia decided that being in Rome she must adapt herself to the customs of the country. ‘I suppose,’’ she said, “‘ that it could be shortened.”’ -_ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘Between you and me,” confided Ugly Joe, “it ‘ll have to be shortened. Long names ain’t popular much around here. Look at them hosses. S’pose I give them fancy names, how’d I ever handle ’em? S’pose I wanted ’em to stop and I had to ny Payne III.’ Nope, you can see for your- self that wouldn’t do. A long name is as much in the way as a long barrel on a shot- gun when you want to shoot quick.” ‘What do you call your horses?” asked Patricia. “The nigh one is Spit ard the off one is Fire. we're off. See?” ‘“Oh,” smiled Patricia, “(and what will you call me?” “Tl leave off the fancy part. Pat IS a good enough name. What say?” “That,” said Patricia, “‘ will be fine.” “Sure. Ill call you Pat and you call me Joe. Simple; easy to remember; saves lots of wind and talking. Talking am’t popular none with me.” And he proved it by maintaining a reso- lute silence for the next fifteen minutes. As for Patricia; she was too busy sweeping the plains with a critical eye to wish for talk. Moreover, the silence was pleasing. That was a way men had with each other. She began to feel, also, that she had at last reached a country where a pretty face was not a passport to all hearts; she would have to prove herself before she would be RCREpAeS, CHAPTER II. THE KILLING OF LAURISTON. OT that this was in the least discour- aging to Patricia. She was, indeed, rather excited and stimulated by the prospect, as an athlete feels himself keyed to the highest point of efficiency by a con- test with a rival of unquestioned prowess. She swept the country with a critical eye; she glimpsed the massive, bended shoulders ci Ugly Joe with a side glance; the mes- quite-dotted hills, the white-hot plains, the man who lived in them—all were good in the eye cf Patricia. She would have ac- ecomiclooolks say: ‘Whoa, Elizabeth Virginia II and John- I just say: ‘ Giddap, Spit-fire! and . (CO