Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

LORETTA BRODELL. | off his drunk up until the middle of the afternoon, might you could find him easi- est. Buckshot he’s a particular friend of mine. See them windows?” He pointed to some broken, dust covered panes in the side of his chow-cart. ‘‘ Buckshot he done it. Busted my wagon all to pieces fightin’ some Mexes who give me an argument. Now I’d like for to see him git that ten thousand reward. And ef it’s all the same to you, pard, I’ll haul him out’n his bunk over to the Commercial Ho- tel and tell him to meet you down in the vestibule. You ain’t in a hurry.” “In a big hurry,” Thorpe said. “ My man is out in the desert right now probably hunting for a herse with which to cross the border.” “In that case Ill finish up these here dishes, wake Buckshot up and git him down in the vestibule of the Commercial Hotel which you’ll find it down the street just acrost the dry wash.” “ That suits me,” Thorpe said. “ Here’s a cigar. Now then, where’s this gambling joint you called Pedro’s place?”’ The old man pointed through the door of his cart. Thorpe saw a long, low shack whose facade of pine boards was painted with the sign: Pedro McGinnis Gaming Parlor. It was a huge one-story shack with a bar running down the side which must have been, to Thorpe’s astonished gaze, the length of a good sized New York City block. “Tm looking for Skeeter Brodell,’’ Thorpe said. The barkeep, sweeping up the sawdust and sand of the floor, replied that Skeeter, having been in a brawl the night before, had overslept, but he could be sent for. Thorpe seemed uncertain. He was not quite sure whether Skeeter Brodell was the man he wanted to see or not. “ What I want is a deputy or somebody who has to do with your law and order. You ain’t got a police force, I know that, but I want whatever is like it.” ‘“‘ Well, then, you want Skeeter Brodell,”’ the barkeep said definitely. ‘‘ And he ain’t like a regular policeman either. He never stays out’n a fight. .Oh, no. Don’t think that. He horses into it no matter what it’s 300 about, and sees that the right side wins. He’s our combined sheriff and constable and judge in this here county. We got a regu- lar sheriff, but—”’ “Ves, [ heard all about that.” ‘““ Anybody as axes for a sheriff, we al- ways send him to Skeeter Brodell.”’ ‘“There’s an escaped criminal in the desert between here and Mesquite. A re- ward of ten thousand is on his head. I want this man Skeeter Brodell to get him.” ‘Ah, so that’s it! Well, you sure are lookin’ for the right man!”’ the barkeep said. ‘Tf it waren’t for Skeeter I’d be a dead man to-day. See them broken chairs—them gamin’ tables—that ‘thar heap of bottles I just swep’ up? Skeeter—he done it! Bounced a gang of desperadoes he did. And they was goin’ to carve me up for to make tamales. That’s what they said. Law and order—that’s Skeeter’s right name.” “Do you mind getting him for me, and telling him to meet me in the lobby of the Commercial Hotel within half an hour?” The barkeep was about to consent, and with great readiness it seemed, when he sud- denly began scratching his head perplexed- ly. ‘‘ The Commercial Hotel ain’t got a lobby!” he blurted out. ‘All as it’s got is a bunk-shed with a saloon in front.” “Tell him to meet me there,” Thorpe said. ‘““T sure will!’ the barkeep promised. *‘ And [ll stay this, too, mister. If they’s ten thousand offered as a reward for the capture of your man, I see where Skeeter boosts the gamblin’ up good and high when he gits the money!”’ “One thing else—where’s this joint they call the Grand Central Pavilion?” ‘““ Over. acrost the wash,” the barkeep answered. ‘‘ You foller this street to where it leads down to the dry creek bed. Then it starts agin on the other side where they’s a few shacks. Then acrost the street from the hotel—that’s where the pavilion’s at. But there ain’t no dancin’ there now—only between sunset and sun-up.” Mr. Thorpe ordered a drink -which he poured with some difficulty between his bandages. Then, after treating the bar- keep, he hurried down the street toward the dance hall. ? Gomichbooks.com