Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

— = » By KENNETH PERKINS Author of ‘‘ Queen of the Night,’’ ‘‘ The Bull-Dogger,’’ etc. CHAPTER XXVIII. SAMSON, OAH DOXEY stood underneath the speckled placard which read: “ Dan Crockett, his Alabama Band. No vibrating after sunrise.” Sunrise had come; so had that earnestly wished for event, the ultimate disintegration of the morale of Sun-up citizens. The gnarled, narrow-shouldered little man who that night had been judged and had sat in the seat of judgment, rubbed his hands. He had rubbed them only a few moments before as if washing them of Phil Wynd- ham’s fate in the age-old manner of Pilate. But now he rubbed them in the manner of a man who is completely and vindictively satisfied. Hallie Crockett had brought this om.the town! Let them go to their destruction! Let them tear themselves to pieces! Let them commit murder and pay for what they are doing. He, Noah Doxey, would not raise a finger to stop them. And that was exactly what was happen- ing to the citizens of Sun-up. They were tearing one another to pieces. Old Doxey saw the human traits of these Sun-up citi- zens vanishing, crumbling before his very eyes. 7 Hallie Crockett was in the hands of the worst man there, Fred Hayden—a just punishment for her crimes; Doxey chuckled to himself. As for the rest, the scene which was taking place before his eyes was a veri- table debacle. Pleasing as it was to the bloodthirsty old vulture up there on the dais, it was too harrowing to watch. | Doxey felt a qualm in his dyspeptic stomach, he felt a weakness shivering through his knock knees. For the first time within his memory he felt a terrific yearn- ing for a drink of spirituous liquor. Unfortunately there was no such liquor within his reach. To be sure, a bottle _ This story began in the Argosy-Allstory Weekly for October 6. 776 3