Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 18, 1928 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

BLUE STEEL. “Blaine Tolliver! To shoot up Blue Steel! I knowed you wanted him worked up, Mr. Dunstan, but we’d need a real man for that job, some hombre like Blackie here,” he added, much to Sanderson’s dis- comfort. ‘ Y’ ain’t got so much knowledge o’ this Blue Steel, Mr. Dunstan. “ He’s a hard feller. Blaine ’d last about as long with him as a fresh Mex at a punch- ers’ picnic. Thar ain’t no sense in sendin’ a jack-rabbit after a wolf, Mr. Dunstan.” “ Do you know, I really fancy that there is, though, in this case,” Dunstan insisted. “ At least, Blaine knows the country around here, and he can use a gun. Besides, he won’t take any unnecessary chances, if I know Blaine, and knowing him is very sim- ple. ** He’ll know the rock or clump of trees to hide behind, and a bullet in the heart from Blaine Tolliver can be just as deadly, Simeon, as it could be from—well, from Blackie, here, or some man that is a man,” “T reckon you’re right, Mr. Dunstan,” Blackie was willing to admit. He was none too eager to tangle with Blue Steel. “1’d wager thet Blaine ’d be the one to git the bullet in the heart,” argued Simeon Weston. “ It’s a fifty to one shot—up ag’in’ Blue Steel.” “Well,” returned Dunstan, with his cold smile, “‘ what then? Wouldn’t be a bad development, that—what? Another Tolli- ver out of the way. Only the girl left. And this sheriff chap, Reynolds, is quite busi- nesslike. We could egg him on and maybe prove that this Blue Steel was the one who had ambushed Blaine.” “Tt ’d be right hard to prove,” said Wes- ton. “I ain’t got no love for Blue Steel. He got the drop on me once in the Corral, and made me look a mite foolish. But folks hereabouts. wouldn’t believe that he am- bushed nobody. He jest don’t do things thet way.” “At any rate,’ Dunstan summed up, “we have everything to gain by feeding this propaganda to Blaine. We shall get one tally out of it one way or the other, and maybe two. Now, you say this Blue Steel is due here about Thursday, Blackie?” 825 ‘Thursday mawnin’, I figures,” replied Blackie. ‘‘ Mebbe even a leetle afore, if any 0’ them telegraphs reaches him. Course, they won’t. I’d almost guarantee he won’t get as far west as the towns I had tele- graphed. “He'll keep away from the Powder River—he’s been in all sorts o’ shootin’s an hellin’s up thar, jest lives on trouble an’ excitement, an’ he’ll be wantin’ to make time. ‘“'He’s more likely to slant down an’ not pick up the Powder at all. Lariat an’ Trinchera Creek an’ them towns ’Il be the ones he picks up, if he don’t dodge the towns altogether, which same is likely.” ‘“ Now,” said Dunstan, eager to get his plans formed before too much liquor had. been consumed, “ this is where you come in, Naylor. Blackie can’t show-up in this, of course, and Weston and myself must naturally be off the board entirely. You, as a retainer of Tom Tolliver, must keep crying for vengeance of some sort. “You'll find that Blaine won’t hear about anybody but himself being the man to go out and get this Blue Steel. He’s brave enough, at that, something of old Tol- liver in him, if he is a wastrel and a fool. ‘“When he gets sobered up to-morrow, keep working on him. Tell him to keep his plans under cover. His sister, Miss Sally, has a strongex will than he has, and if she knew too much she might prevail upon him to desist, in some way. The news is pretty well circulated now about this Blue Steel’s homecoming Thursday. When is Tolliver’s funeral?” ‘“ Wednesday,” answered Naylor. ‘“ OV Tom ’ll be planted side o’ his missus in the Poco buryin’ ground, ’bout two in the af- ternoon, | reckon. Miss Sally has made out all the plans. ‘Golly, but thar’s a thoroughbred! No tears, although every one knows how much she thought 0’ the ol’ man. She’s a-goin’ about a leetle pale an’ pinched, an’ no one knows what’s happenin’ back o’ them gray eyes o’ hers.” “Well, boys,” said Dunstan, “ we had better break this up now. Simeon and I will see you at Tolliver’s funeral to-morrow, Dan. Blackie, you might get a chance to (€(0) TOO mie cS) (E@)