Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

THE WHISTLING WADDY WARBLES ON, hand in what’s going on around here. And it looks tuh me like yuh better deal me th’ Ace!” Suddenly Solitaire began to move toward the door, his two guns cover- ing those in the room. As he reached it he began to whistle softly, and there was a song of death in the sound as he vanished from sight. ILf. LATER that evening Solitaire Stevens sat in a little abandoned cabin on the outskirts of the town, talking to the boy, Jimmy Lawton. The puncher had hidden his horse in back of the shack, for he knew that since he had declared himself to Craven and Jenkins in the saloon the Ace and his pack would be on his trail. The Whistling Waddy was no fool. He realized that one man against the band which had terrorized the sur- rounding country was exceptionally long odds, and he could only win by a game of stealth. He had learned from his examina- tion of the dead man in the cafion, and going over the few papers which he had found in the latter’s pockets, that he was Jim Harper—and that had been all. Later Solitaire discovered a fund of information in the little boy, for Jimmy appeared to be a very observing lad, and he had remembered all that he had seen and heard. “Gee, Mr. Stevens,” Jimmy re- marked, now looking at the puncher with frank admiration in his eyes, “yuh sure gave that feller Craven an awful wallop! I was looking in through th’ window and I seen yuh do it—you’re a brave man—an’ I’m gonna be like yuh when I grow up!” “ Huh!” Solitaire laughed. “ Don’t yuh go usin’ me for no model, kid,” he said, and yet he was pleased by the boy’s candid admiration. “ Say, Jim- my, yuh don’t know anything "bout a jasper named Jim Harper, does yuh?” 17 “ Jim Harper!’ The boy’s tone was eager. “ Why, of course, I do—TI ain’t seen him for a couple of days, but that don’t mean nothin’.” Jimmy smiled. “Yuh see, he’s my uncle—he’s been like a father tuh me ever since my dad died ’bout four years ago. He owns th’ Cross X ranch—and it’s sure one fine place.” “Your uncle, eh?” said Solitaire very quietly. “ He ever had any trou- ble with th’ Ace’s pack?” “Oh, sure.” Jimmy’s eyes gleamed with pride. “They been after him a lot—that feller Craven offered to buy th’ Cross X once, but Uncle Jim just laughed at him—and called him a crook, an’ told him that th’ pack would get th’ ranch over Uncle Jim’s dead body.” The boy laughed. “ Uncle sure is brave—I’m glad that I’m named after him—they called me Jim for him, yuh know.” “I see,” said Solitaire very thought- fully. “Jimmy, who do yuh reckon th’ Ace really is?” “TI don’t know—leastwise, I ain’t sure—but [ll bet yuh it’s that feller Craven.” A frown passed over the boy’s freck- led face. “Say, Mr. Stevens, now yuh men- tion it | wonder could anything have happened tuh Uncle Jim? He said for me tuh stay right here in this old cabin till he returned, and that he had some mighty important business tuh take care of right away. But he’s been gone more than three days now—and he don’t usually stay away that long.” A vision of the still figure he had left back there in the cafion that after- noon rose before the puncher and he shook his head slowly. “Son,” he said slowly, “ yuh an’ me are gonna be pardners, ain’t we?” “ Pardners?” Jimmy looked at him eagerly. “Oh, I’d sure like that, Mr. Stevens!” “Forget th’ ‘mister,’ kid. Folks calls me Solitaire when they knows me. Remember that, Jimmy.” "EcomiGcvooks ~ (E)