Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 84: what you’re looking at

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

458 der shoulders and through his thm chest. Once Chic Woods, speaking in an aside like a mutter of thunder to Bob Riddle, stretched “out his fingers and then closed them slowly—a suggestive gesture, as if he were crushing some fragile object filled with life. Yet for some time no one directly addressed Goggies; the cloak of his master’s awful power fell like an invisible sense of awe about him. Finally, however, Jack Tucker said: ‘“ Maybe you don’t know, Goggites, that I've figmred out who the Whisperer is?” — ‘“‘ How extremely interesting!” said Gog- gles, and smiled benignantly upon the ruf- fian. ‘Do you really, though!” “You're damn right 1 do—’scuse | me, lady,” said Tucker, “and there was one beside me that knew--old Mort Lauris- ton.” “ Well, well,” said Goggles, ‘“‘ you’ve no idea how interested the Whisperer will be when I tell him that his identity has been trated. 99 ‘Whatever that means,”’ growled Tucker, “but you can tell the old bird that he’s known, all right. Maybe you'd like to hear the story?” “ Indeed!’’ drawied Goggles with en- thusiasm. “ By all means,” said Patricia. “It was back a few years when the first paying ore was struck over by the Mugg- yon Hills,” said Tucker. “I was laying about Eagles when one day old Mort Laur-— iston came driving up to me and says he’d like to have me slide out into the hills with him to a place where he thought he’d got the right color, but he wanted to get my opinion before he got his claim papers. “‘T climbed a hoss and we went out into the hills, and there, right on the place where Mort had been digging; was Pa.” “Pa?” queried Patricia. ‘““T was coming to that. There was a _ chap come out to Eagles from the East. Awful green tenderfoot. He said his name ' ‘was Peter Askworthy Howe, but the ini- tials on his suit-case was ‘ P. A. H.,’ so we calted him Pa right off the jump. ‘Wasn't a bad sort, laying aside the funny way he talked. Anyway, it was Pa who'd come along and seen the marks ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. 4 of Mort’s digging. He’d opened wp the stuff himself, and being a rock-hound he seen the first glance that there was plenty of color—real stuff. So he staked out a claim. We come down and allowed to him that Mort had the first jump on that spot. He told us to go to—well, "not just in them words, him being particular polite, always. “ He allowed that he was going into Eagles to get his papers. Well, we knew that he’d beat us on a ride, because he had a pretty nice piece of hoss-flesh with him. He climbed into the saddle and then I shot the hoss. ‘Sort of peeved this Pa, because he ups and grabs his gun. Which was some feol- ish move, considering how fast Mort was with his six. He put three chunks of lead into Pa’s chest inside a space the size of your palm. Of course the tenderfoot didn’t have no chance. “He didn’t die for a minute, and before he kicked out, he rolls himself over on his back—he was a big gent—and puils himself up on his hands. “ “ Lauriston,’ he says, ‘ you and Tucker will never enjoy the money. you make out of this mine. My brother will track me, and he'll learn who killed me. He'll kill you, my fine felhews, and if you started rid- ing now you could never ride far enough away or hide so well that you could get away from him.’ ‘With that he kicked out. Now, I got a considerable respect for what a dying man says, and I allow that the Whisperer is the brother of old Pa. Yep, his name is Howe and he’s filled one part of his bet by getting Mort Lauriston. The other part is to get me. I knew the Whisperer was on my trail, and that’s why I’ve been so scarce around these parts lately. I figured he’d a good chance of bumping me off while I was alone. But now that I’ve got these three bunkies I guess he’: out of luck. What say, Chic?” “Tl tell the world he’s out of luck!” growled Chic. “Damn his eyes!” broke in Ugly Joe. “When he finds them, he finds me with ‘em. Listen to the wind, lads! Glad we're in port to-night!” For the gale had risen suddenly and now we fl ecomnilelaoolks (CO