Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

762 trail with his bucket. Billy heard the rider’s voice and saw the boy come to a guilty halt, surprised. Billy took his gun from its hol- ster, examined it carefully, and replaced it, making sure it was loose to his pull. “Guess we'll talk,” he reflected, and sauntered down through the bushes. ‘Where you bound for, young feller?” the rider had asked the boy. “ Berryin’,” the bright youth had re- sponded, “ Fer how long?” the rider had asked. “Till dinner time,” answered the pride of Mrs. MacKreagh, ‘An’ where you going to eat dinner?” pressed the rider. ‘“ Home,”’ said Smedley. “Then why you carryin’ it in that pail?” Smedley gazed into the bucket as if he could not believe his eyes. “That?” said he. “ That? That ain’t dinner.” : “No. It’s about five dinners.” “Your wrong, mister. It’s a good six,” said the boy frankly. “I thought likely 1 might camp out.” | “You’re a bright boy. In that shack?” 7; Yup.” “Your mother wouldn’t like that,” guessed the rider. ““ She won’t know.” “Tm going to see her now,” announced the rider. He screwed up a wrinkled coun- tenance in pleasant ambiguity. But Smed- ley was not to be biuffed. ‘“ Good-by,” he said and turned away. “ Oh, I’m in no hurry. Thought I’d take a look at the shack.” By this time, Billy, who had been an in- terested listener, had recognized his man. “Come right in, Mr. Breen,” he said, stepping forward. “ So that’s the lay,” remarked Mr. Breen, and his wrinkled visage shriveled into a leer of friendly triumph. “I knew something queer was sort of simmering.” “ Fall off an’ be friends,” suggested Billy. Mr. Breen dismounted and solemnly shook Billy’s hand. “ could collect a reward for you,” he said quizzically. “Don’t be so pessimistic,” said Billy. _“ You got a good many years to live yet.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. : “Young feller, I told you on Monday that yoy were good. I meant it. I know you. You're good as gold. But you're ruining another man, young feller; and he’s just as good a man as you are. He’s good. MacQuillan’s as good as they make ’em.” Having delivered himself of this informa- tion, Mr. Breen turned once more to the de- jected animal which had brought him. He threw the reins. ““T’ve got to see your mother about them ' horses I bought,” he said to Smedley. “That black fiend she sold me’s worth double what I paid and I aim to make it right. You want to ride behind?” The boy looked at Billy. Billy strode to the head of Breen’s horse and grasped the bridle. “If you want to help the sergeant, Mr. Breen,” he said, ‘‘ just you tell that painted soldger up at the ranch that I’m campin’ here.”’ Breen puckered up his face at that. “Tt ain’t that, young feller,” he said. “As far as squealing goes, I haven’t laid eyes on you since I saw you ride north from Redstone on Monday. But Mac- Quillan’s a good man, and we need him. I wouldn’t be surprised but what it would be nice if you sort of rode over the border un- til MacQuillan managed to get that cattle lifting blackleg named Menzies, If he don’t get one or the other of you, and get him quick, he’ll bust a blood vessel or get a transfer. “Tt ain’t right, because MacQuillan’s good. You’re just helpin’ the lowest sort of scum to break a good man, playin’ with MacQuillan this way. Get aboard, young- ster.” He was in the saddle now and pulling Smedley up behind him, but Billy caught the boy about the middle and plucked him from his place. — ““ Smedley an’ me,” he said, “‘ we’re talk- in.”? Breen screwed up his face at them. “ So-long,” he squeaked and, vigorously kicking his lethargic mount, he ambled on his way. After he was out of sight Billy took the boy and the bucket into his brush clad fastness. Eomicbooks. com