Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

_ “fool dog rushing dowrz the path! ~ 228 _ “Oh, please!” she pleaded. “‘ You are supposed to lie still and get well.” “Some day—” he began, cc Hush! ” There were noises downstairs. The door- bell rang twice. The colored maid pattered up the stairs and poked her face into the room again. ‘“Gen’leman from the district attorney’s office,’ she announced. “ And here’s an- other telegram.” ‘Send him up,” ordered Steve, tearing the envelope open. “ I feel like telling every- thing I know!” _ The wire was from Shorty at the ranch: The whole herd came down here to-day to visit Hammond’s health resort. We have them laid out and tied down. We are wait- ing for you patiently. SHORTY. Steve flung the paper to Beth. ‘Burn it before the district attorney’s man comes in,” he requested. “ And then wire to Slim that I’m on my way.” X. Steve hastened home, despite the doc- tor’s orders. Still weak, with his arm in a plaster cast and a sling, he descended from a local train at Gray Butte and started in a rented touring car upon the fifty-mile journey over sand-flats and mountain cafions toward home. Familiar scenes brought him a thankful joy. As the car took the descent into the valley where the old white ranch house stood amid its clustered trees, he strove to see the bleakness which Paula disliked so earnestly; but every corner of the place brought reminiscences which made _ his eyes brighten. When the car halted in front of the ranch house grounds, he leaped out and jiggled the gate’s rusty chain hap- _ pily. Slim was there. Look at the Look at “It’s home, Slim—home! the Chink cook waving from the kitchen! Look at the new roof on the barn, and the new white paint on the ranch house! Why, this is beautiful!” He strode up the path, past the sparse shrubbery and the alfalfa lawn, where a big ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. red setter tried to bowl him over. Paula appeared at the front of the rambling old one-storied building and advanced toward ‘him smilingly. It was the same tall and graceful Paula with the wonderful olive complexion and carefully parted hair. She wore a dainty blue dress, so aggressively spotless and flawless that he felt a twinge of resentment at the polite loafing which it advertised. Plainly she was out of place. He caught himself frowning slightly. As. she extended her hand he noticed that the nails of every finger were perfect. . “ Ah, I am glad you have arrived safely!” came her resonant voice. “I have been shocked at the news of your terrible adventures! ” “ 'They’re over,” he answered, thankfully, taking her hand. “ That is, almost over.” He turned to Slim, who was carrying his suit case. “ How about those fellows up at Casey’s Hole?” “Oh, they’re all right, if they ain’t dead or something.” <4 Dead?” “Well, you told us to treat ’em rough, didn’t you?” “ Great Scott!” ““ Aw, I guess they’ll live. They’re tough.” Steve’s alarmed gaze flicked to the corral, the barn, the pump, the wagon shed, and, beyond all these, to the flat pastures. All seemed deserted. ‘* Where are the men?” he demanded. “Them? Oh, they’re guardin’ the prisoners.” Steve went into the living room and tossed his hat upon a horsehair sofa. He sank into a big chair alongside the onyx mantel and under an oil painting of a square-jawed man with beetling brows and a gray mustache. “Let me get this right,’”’ suggested Steve. “You mean you ruffians have committed assault, battery, mayhem and murder on a lot of poor city crooks that couldn’t defend themselves?” The culprit fiddled with the belt of his blue overalls. “Not exactly,” he informed the red car- pet. “Those fellows acted mean. The boys lost their tempers. Things sort of went from bad to worse.”