Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

‘S COUNT OF SOME ACCOUNT, | ‘murderous dryer rolls with what are figured as minor casualties in the grim paper ‘mak- ing business. He suffered only a cracked rib and fe _loss of half of his right hand. Fellow workmen had him stretched on a strip of burlap farther up the floor, when the deputies appeared bearing the additional evidence desired for the incrimination of — Slavvery. At sight of the sleuths advancing with the object that the foremost held gingerly by the neck, Slavvery displayed renewed agita- tion that the hard fist of Gregg had not been able to induce. “ Only one bottle in the whole dati tub,” bawled the deputy to the sheriff, “ but that looks to be half empty!” Greedily Vardaman reached for the « eXx- hibit. Perhaps, after all, Slavvery could also be implicated! He drew out the cork; he smelled, scowled and tasted. He spat out the mixture with every appearance of dis- taste. He looked on the sides of the bottle, but the original label had been soaked off in the sludge of the vat. “For Pete’s sake!’ ” he screamed at Slavvery above the never resting din, “ what —#§ this stuff?” Slavvery’s reply, given w vith the bashful- ness of either a young boy or a man in love, will live forever in the traditions of Black- water. He rolled hoop eyes, above a bloody face, at the listening Mattie Briscoe. He stood on one foot like an ostrich. He clasped manacled hands in pensive fashion. ‘““T was doin’ it for /er,”’ he yodled. “ She thought I was a trifle too hefty to think 0’ . marryin’ yet. J been takin’ it on the sly for weeks. It’s anti-fat!” While Gregg lay groaning farther up the floor, Bly and the assen bled machine ten- ders and backtenders hugged one another THE U U and wept with merriment. man looked lost. flaming, walked straight up to the. simper- ing Pete Slavvery and bit off cold. words with cruel, tiny, white e th “ Pete, you big blatherskite! = she grated, e243 Gregg hadn't beat you up already, Vd jam that darned old bottle down your fat throat!” Whereupon, ith militant. dignity, she. marched away from there. A half hour later Calvin Calomel Bly came upon William Elder, the goat bearded — patriarch, in the tool house at the end of the lawn. William was putting up his lawn : mower. In the cold eyes of the superintendent dawned an expression that was new for William. It was one of uncertainty, almost of distrust. The strange events of the after- noon, since their discussion of the morning, Ww holly justified this change in Bly’s mind. _ He had believed this goatish old philosopher ‘pretty nearly infallible. = “ William,” quoth Bly severely, « “ Grego’s How, now? on his way to jail with three fingers gone. Slayvery’s ; gone home to plaster his nose. You know everything, den’t you?’ = “ Byuh.” William stroked his whiskers. “Last thing you told me this mornin’,” pursued Bly in challenge, “was that if the fool sheriff ever got after Pete Slavvery he was due to fae out somethin’.” _ * Well,” placidly, “he did, didn’t he?” cw hat did he find?” “The right feller.” Then the stare of Calvin became a real tribute. William wagged a sage gray head. “Tf you’d ever used your head, Cal, you’d know Pete was honest. He’s too danged iggorunt to be anything else.” And Bly went away from there more than ever convinced that in wisdom Solomon never had anything on William! END U COMING SOON—A Great New Serial of the West SENOR J INGLE BELLS BY M AX BRAND | cS a See - * SS ee = 7 = a ee - a = = am gm ee ~ ~—. ~ ane Sheriff Varda- = 7 = x Mattie Briscoe, ‘with color == bla ew Wy, A AAI att . OK eel yit ¥, PTT LD de BONS tA MPV GR GALS oN: MA) UREA OOM Ut AY imi sit Py ish ‘ i ‘ ry iliay j aR TAN, Eomiuick bo (0) com NN Tevk Th | Mf i