Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

SILENT you call home, Buddy?” he asked, studying the boy’s face with yellow, bilious eyes. “With me and Tin Can,” Starley an- swered for the boy. ‘‘ How’s your poison- ous rot-gut, Grabow?” “ Bad as ever,” mourned the saloon- keeper. ‘‘ Have one on the house, Jerry. For the silver claim you almost sold me, eh? You, too, stranger.” He waved the two men to the bar, whose keeper had al- ready laid out two whisky tumblers, and was elevating a bottle. Starley grimaced over his generous drink; it was rank, corroding stuff. But Joe Budhouser gulped his portion down greed- ily. He needed liquid courage, did Joe, and he needed it badly. ‘““ Now one on me, boys,” Starley called genially. ‘‘ I’ve got my groceries packed on old Tin Can, and the rest of my coin is yours while it lasts.” The loafers piled with ill-concealed haste to the bar; free drinks were not common in Quartz City, and Jerome Starley was a man with whom they were all proud to drink. The round was downed instantly. ‘“ And now one more,” urged Starley, “ to get the dust out of our throats.” Starley deemed that second drink a good investment. Indeed, the atmosphere in the Ritz saloon mellowed perceptibly. Only Pig Grabow and the whipcord, black-eyed man at the corner table did not join in the mood of manufactured gayety. ‘‘ And now another, to wash out to-morrow’s dust,” in- vited Starley. The desert man had no desire for that fourth drink. He felt the moonshine burn- ing down his throat clear to the pit of his stomach, where it seemed hot as molten iron. He noted that the liquor poured for himself and Joe Budhouser came from a different bottle than that offered the other imbibers. But it was wise not to notice the partial- ity, not to invite trouble. He knew he could stand up under far more potent moonshine than most men. Yet that last drink bothered him. Mist clouds began to edge in on his eyes; he could feel his tongue becoming thick and loose at once. Longing for the outdoors was Jerome Starley, longing to be well out JERRY. OOO of that murky barroom whose shadows seemed to veil danger. “All right, boys,” he called. ‘ One last little drink, and then Buddy and I’ve got to be on our way. We’re aiming to swing over to Emigranto Springs by night.” “Why don’t your buddy buy a round?” demanded Pig Grabow, edging forward and Seizing Joe Budhouser’s arm. “ Stranger, who in hell are you, anyway? We’re all damned fond of Jerry Starley, but we don’t accept no strangers, even if Jerry introduces them. Come on, speak up! What hole did the cat drag you out of?” ‘““He’s my side-kick now, Grabow,” in- terposed Starley. ‘‘ Isn’t that enough?” “Mebbe, and mebbe not!” Grabow piv- eted Budhouser roughly on his _ heels, jammed him violently against the bar. ‘‘ Sweet little rat, ain’t you?” he demanded, peering into the boy’s face. ‘“Leave me alone,” quavered Joe Buc- houser. ‘“* Leave me alone,’ ”’ Grabow mimicked. His fat hand went up to the boy’s nose, caught it, and tweaked it. ‘ Has mamma’s boy got lost to-day among a naughty bunch of rough men?” Plainly Grabow was at- tempting to provoke a fight, just as plainly little Joe Budhouser was too frightened to keep his head. “Lay off me,” he squeaked. botherin’ you.” “No, but I’m bothering you!” Pig Grabow imitated the boy’s shrill of fright. His hand came up again, and slapped Joe Budhouser’s cowardly face. The sight was too much for Jerome Star- ley. Perhaps the liquor had loosened his tongue, as it was planned to do; perhaps his head was not as clear as it should have been. But he spoke loudly, angrily. “Quit that, Grabow! Leave the boy alone!”’ ‘““Why should I leave him alone?” ““ Because I’m asking you to.” “Poor little sissy, ain’t he?’’ demanded Grabow. “ Has to have a guardian to fight his fights for him.” “Don’t worry about that,” counseled Starley. ‘“ He’s taken care of himself be- fore, and he’ll do it again. He got his “F -in't ‘man, too, a big brute like you, Grabow.” COMIC OOO K<S co