Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

EXCITEMENT TRAIL. how come he’s still alive and in the raid- ing business?” Rusty pointedly inquired. “7 didn’t get near to him,” was the equally pointed reply. “ But we’ve picked up a little information here, and some more over there, and betwixt and between, after putting everything together, we know what I told you and a little bit more. “‘ For instance, this masked guy has black hair, but they’s a little white splash just above his right temple. Also he has a deep smallpox pit right in the middle of the chin.” “Funny you’d know all this about a masked cattle raider,” Rusty murmured, “ and let him get off without his hide being punctured a heap by forty-fives.” “Not quite so funny, when you get all the facts. It’s more tragedy than fun, Rusty. They hopped us night before last, and Chuck Peters, who was assigned to night riding, ran’ across the dirty work. He pulled iron on ’em prompt, getting one or two, but a bullet clipped Chuck in the shoulder, which was bad, though it might’ve been worse. “However, these polecats saw Chuck shot off his horse, and rode up to where he lay. The fellow with the mask lit a ciga- rette, and the flare of the match gave Chuck the details of his facial map, as I told you. He asked Chuck a few questions about where animals were grazing, and so on, Chuck being careful to pass out a choice lot of wrong information, like any loyal wrangler. After which the skunk with the mask whips out his gun and sends another bullet into Chuck.” Rusty leaped to his feet with the snarl of a wild animal. ‘‘ The dirty hound! He’ll die for that!” Chuck Peters, the murdered cowboy, had been his friend. “ That’s what the rest of the boys said,” Towers, Sr., informed him. ‘ And they’ve ridden on the trail now, which explains why the place is so dead. You see, poor Chuck lived awhile, long enough to tell us what happened. I wasn’t in any shape to ride, account of that barbed wire mix-up, but T sent out the whole outfit, hell for Christ- mas, a-pouring leather into their cayuses proper, I don’t give a damn about losing 307 a few rangy steers now and then, but when one of my riders—a good man like Chuck Peters—gets himself killed defending my animals from rustlers, it’s war—bloody war with no quarter asked or given.” “I trail with you on that proposition,” Rusty declared fervently. ‘‘ All I ask is one chance to roll a gun on the man that bumped off Chuck.” “You might’ve had that, chance,” said his father, ‘“‘ if you’d been on the ranch forty- eight hours sooner. As things lay, looks to me like you’ve missed out.” . “FE ain’t so sure,” Rusty replied. “Guess [ll head south.” ‘* Alone?” “Why not? That’s the only way to work a proposition of this kind. Those buckaroos of the Crossed Arrows won’t bring back the scalp you want, and down in your heart you likely know it. A gang like yours advertises itself same as if a brass band was along, and in a pinch the rustlers can always scatter in the mountains. Besides which these here greasers had a start of—say—” “ Six to eight hours,” Dan Towers sup- plied. “ That’s a plenty,” his son grunted. “A heap too much, from our viewpoint. Prod- ding them dogies along at forced draft they’re blame near to the border by the time your riders are starting. Your only chance is to jump the outfit before it crosses into Mexico.” . ‘“Guess you’re right, Rusty,” Towers, ~ Sr., conceded. “Thanks!” was the young man’s dry comment. ‘““ What’s queried. ‘“T aim to strike into Mexico, gunning for a greaser with a white blotch in his hair and a smallpox dimple in his chin. When we meet I'll tell him howdy with an ounce of lead out of my .45 Colt.” ‘“ Hum—and that gal named Rosita?” “Tm not forgetting her. Don’t see any reason why I can’t work both propositions at the same time.” your scheme?” his father “Good luck to you on each count, son. . From what I’ve heard, this mysterious raid- er is right handy with his shooting iron.” Gom Ehoo iS =}