Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

468 tell you? Bad man—ho, ho—he’s yella— yella through an’—” With surprising suddenness Butch faced Goler. The Kid lost a large gob of his self- assurance when he peered up into those lit- tle black eyes. But—that was not all he lost. | The big man stepped back, struck out quickly, a wide swinging, mighty blow, with every ounce of his two hundred pounds of bone and muscle behind it. His clubbed fist. caught Goler fairly under the jaw. The Kid skittered across the big table, turned clean about in mid air and brought up crashingly against the wall a dozen feet away. Men fought to get out through the single door. | Witnessing this loss of potential trade, Dugan swore and gently brought his gun above the counter edge. But Keever ‘had outguessed him. His big gun roared. The automatic flew from Dugan’s fingers. He ducked behind the counter. Once again the big man’s gun roared, bringing a bottle of Squint’s choice brandy crashing down. Then Keever’s thick fingers reached across the counter, sought and found Du- _gan’s mop of red hair. Squint cursed and ae | _ yelled and fought. All to no avail. - He was dragged irresistibly upward, off his feet, over the counter. His knees gave way when he struck the floor. But Butch jerked him upright. Pushed out with open palm, at the same time releasing his grip on the hair. Dugan’s red head jerked away; he sprawled backward, joining Kid Goler on the floor against the wall. - Butch leaned an elbow on the yellow pine counter and grinned about at the half circle of dark faces. Then he turned to Dugan -and Goler. The latter, apparently still in a daze, was groping upright along the smooth wall. Dugan, too, showed signs of life. “You, Goler! C’mere!” The Kid jumped as though he had been shot. Obeyed with astonished alacrity. _— “ Git that box over there. The one with the blue doll in it.” - Goler paused not to question. In a brace of seconds he placed the box gently in the big man’s outstretched hand. THE ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “You, Dugan!” Squint Dugan unhesitatingly responded to that harsh-voiced summons. Breathless, bleeding, white-faced, he and Goler stood at attention. Slowly, very, very carefully, Butch Keever extracted a bit of fluffy pink cloth from an inside pocket. Smoothed it out meticulously. It was a doll’s dress. “VY? see, she won’t have nothin’ but a pink one. Funny, ain’t it? But kids has. their notions same’s the rest of us. Now— you boys see whut you kin do. Them there dolls was jest the same, on’y one was. pink an’ t’other blue. Take that blue dress offen that there feller an’ put the pink dress on. Git me? An’ do a good job—er—” ‘““ Not so bad. O’ course, it ain’t so good, neither—but— Wrap it up.” Dugan hastened to oblige. ‘Naw, not in that newspaper. White stuff. That’s it.. Now—some o’ that there pink ribbon.” Butch helped himself to a shipping tag from a hook on the wall, found a pencil, and wrote laboriously: Kitty Gregg—from Butch. ‘Now, Mr. Kid Goler, yo’re takin’ this t’? Andy Gregg’s place. Yo’re deliverin’ it personal t’ Kitty Gregg. Understan’? An’ yore startin’ now—right now. You’ll make it by sunup.” “ But, Butch, the Kid’s due t’ stage a fight. He—” ‘“ He’s startin’ right now fer Andy Grege’s cabin. An’, Kid—try not t’ stray none ’r git lost, becuz—I’m visitin’ Andy agin in a few days. Me an’ him is goin’ fishin’; he’s got—~ But, like I was sayin’, don’t let nothin’ whatsoever interfere with yore deliverin’ that there parcel. I ain’t threatenin’ you, understan’, but—if I was you I’d git started immediate an’ I’d be terrible careful not t’ fall’ ’r anythin’ like that.” Butch Keever leisurely followed Kid Goler’s hurrying green figure as far as the swinging door. At the doorway he turned. Then—he tipped the battered derby far down over one eye, spat contemptuously. “You kin all—go t’ hell!” END O comichook (S(0)