Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

Sn Oe get at 470 “ Cow hands foolin with patchwork puz- zles!” he grumbled. ‘“‘ Crosswords, huh? They’s liable to be a lotta cross words from old Ben Kennard if his wranglers don’t start sleepin’ more nights and less ‘days. Reckon I’ll have tuh chirp a bit.” __ Approaching closer to the table the fore- man sarcastically voiced: «Say, yuh hombres! They’s fencin’ to fix tuhmorrow and post holes tuh dig! Yuh can’t stay up all night fussin’ over them fool squares. The old man—” *“We have it almost completed, Link,” Cushing cut in, with a grin. “Yeh, we want to show Miss Barry: more how much we got done at the dancin’ lesson tuhmorrow night,” added Stubby Larkin. ‘JT reckon Miss Barrymore would rather have yuh untangle yuhr feet more and them puzzles less,” tartly asserted Link. Despite his gibe, however, the foreman knew Miss Bonita Barrymore, the pretty little dancing teacher in Dusty Creek, had really inspired the present crossword activi- ties on the Kickin’ K. Apparently, she was a very enthusiastic puzzle devotee; ‘she had clipped squares from the news- ~ papers and given them to the four wranglers, all her pupils, at the last lesson. And they were working them solely to please their attractive instructress. _. Also a dancing pupil, Link himself secret- ly harbored a desire to please the cute Bonita. Not at all a ladies’ man, he never- theless had fallen hard for the girl who had come to Dusty Creek a few short weeks before to teach terpsichore to men and women of the ranges. He wanted very - much to impress her favorably, but he had no intention of patching together puzzles. There must be a better way, he argued. Pete Brown now felt he must unburden himself of an observation. “We got six puzzles all worked, and I reckon we'll prove to Miss Barrymore we ain’t all dumbheads on this ranch. It’d pay yuh tuh exercise yuhr brain more, Link. Yuh ain’t—” “J ain’t seekin’ no advice from a bow- legged jasper who’s got so much brains he went to take a dancin’ lesson. wearin’ spurs!” volleyed the foreman. ; x . < a > - os ° - ° - . = > 4 a eee + “ — ate s ae i ee ee Oe ee tS ee ee Pi et Om, ee <= ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Veh?” growled Pete. Listen—” A machine, unmistakably a flivver, rat- tled and chugged to a stop in the rear of the bunkhouse. “That’s Ed Sinclair back from Dusty Crick,” hastily put in Stubby Larkin, ever a peacemaker. ‘‘ Hope he didn’t forget my smokin’!” ‘“He’s prob’ly forgot everythin’ but the white mule he generally finds there,” com- mented Speck Hasty. In another moment Ed Sinclair, thes new- est hand on the Kickin’ K, had entered the bunkhouse. It was obvious he had had a few drinks, although he wasn’t at all in- toxicated. “ How’s the ole town look, Ed?” Stubby queried. “Rotten as ever!” grunted Sinclair. “Well, say! -“ Here’s yuhr smokin’.” He tossed over a package. “Yuh’re back early tuhnight,” said Link. “Got nothin’ on yuhr-hip, have yuh?” é¢ No.” The newest hand puzzled the foreman a bit. Sinclair was an unusual sort. About thirty years of age, he was a tall, dark man, rather taciturn and surly. Possibly a month previously he had clattered up to the Kick- in’ K in a battered flivver, and asked for a wrangling job. é ‘Judas Priest!” surprised Ben Kennard had commented. ‘‘ Whut’s the West comin’ tuh? Ridin’ up on a tin hoss tuh ask for a job punchin’ cows!”’ Still, he had taken on Sinclair, who claimed to be from California, and the new- comer proved a fairly good wrangler. He rode a horse well, and used his flivver only on his occasional trips into Dusty Creek. The Californian did not talk about him- self or his past. He wasn’t exactly un- friendly, but he appeared not anxious to mix much with his companions. He had curtly refused to join the dancing class in Dusty Creek, and once or twice Link had heard him growl when the boys waxed en- thusiastic over the charms of Bonita Barry- more. Privately, the foreman set Sinclair down as a woman-hater. Of course the crossword puzzles didn’t interest the Californian. His only devia- comicbooks com . 7 . < Wek ae, —— . - er - = p>. » .s * s — = ly OL ee * a - - ad