Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

900 “Another one like that,” said Billy, “and we pack a base burner.” Concho laughed; at least it sounded like a laugh, and Billy sought the shelter of a cut bank to dine. ‘Cold air tights for supper,” quoth he, “and a refrigerator to sleep in. This coun- try ain’t for me.” CHAPTER XXXII. BILLY ACCEPTS AN INVITATION. Y the earliest glimmer of dawn Billy inspected the camp site once more, and picked up from the earth a man- gled willow leaf. He pondered for a mo- ment on that, and, stopping only to devour a can of peaches, he mounted and wended his way onward. He now seemed to have a definite desti- nation in mind, for he serenely kept Concho at an easy lope and scantily regarded the ground. By noon he had cut the trail of the Menzies party three times, but had hardly halted to inspect it; for Billy was a shrewd judge of distance, and he knew that to reach his destination before dark would require steady travel. “ Toenight,” he informed Concho, “ I’m sleepin’ warm, like a human being ought to. So we'll just sashay over to the camp fire of this Menzies sport.” Later he drew rein before the ashes of a fire, slid off and kicked a tin can south- ward. He ran his hand over the ashes. ‘“ Vesterday’s dinner,” he announced. ‘‘ Beans, and then some beans.” He scanned the surrounding grasses, and his eye fell upon a sprig of willow which lay trampled by the way. He grinned broadly. “We'll eat,” he decided. ‘‘ Here’s hay and here’s water; an’ we got lots of time, Concho, because I know just where we sleep to-night. Them woods we saw from the butte are the only willow growths in sight, and what’s plenty more, it’s the only place where any rustler that hasn’t et loco would make his camp this side of the border.”’ Blithely he ate cold beans and cold canned tomatoes. Complacently he looked to his hardware, and saw that Concho was refreshed. Then, humming softly to him- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. self, he cantered toward the only place this side of the border where any self-respecting rustler would camp. He hoped that the Menzies fire would be a generous one. He hoped that one of the three was a com- petent cook. He hoped they wouldn’t be seriously alarmed when he rode in to visit them. On this score Billy was not deeply wor- ried. He had marked the impression made upon Menzies by his gun play at the first time of meeting, and remembered the docil- ity with which they had taken his decisions in the great can reading contest and his orders on the occasion of his collecting his just dues. Moreover, he shrewdly inter- preted the caution which had prompted them to steal away in the darkness of that memorable night. ‘* They ain’t in no ways sudden, nor hap- py about playing with guns,” he confided to Concho. ‘“‘ They got a wide adornment of yellow thataway; and I’m layin’ a whole stack of chips they came to Canada just because the Eskimose don’t know which end of a gun the bullet comes out of.” He was now in a narrow valley, and the willow grove loomed above him. As he neared it he considered this matter of the attitude his quarry held toward blue steel, and it seemed good. He nodded to himself, appearing to bow to the ears of Concho. “ They’re gun shy,” he pronounced. And Concho, throwing up her head, pricked her ears and sniffed audibly. She smelled strangers. So Billy, not slackening his pony’s pace, began to sing. He sung with more volume than melody, and the tune he sang was a mournful wail. “Oh, mu-00-00-o00l, army mu-00-00-o00l, Yore years are so graceful and long! Yoo were tru-00-00-00 to the fla-aih-aih-aihg, So we'll praise you in stohree and sah-ah-ah- ahng !” The horrific laudation rang out with all the inspiring effect of a funeral dirge bel- lowed by a professional mourner hired on a basis of quantity production guaranteed to reach heaven and shatter the pearly gates. Billy stopped after the first effort to take breath and scan the foreground. Then he began again, conveying to the Gomichookszco AA