Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

NOTCHED GUNS. “T wouldn’t say murderer. We don’t use that word a whole heap out here. Of course, when you get a gent with a whole flock of dents in his six-guns, there’s liable to be one or two irregular killings in the lot. Still—you shouldn’t say murderer—that ain’t a nice word west of Kansas City.” A shudder of horror appeared to be coursing up and down the professor’s spine and his unusually mild blue eyes were fixed upon their fellow passenger. “T wonder what—what he’s doing here?” Darley whispered. “‘There’s a lot of gold on this stage,” said Hal Donald, “a heap of it. That’s why they got a guard up on the box with old man Kelly. That’s why I’m riding here. Not taking any chances.” “Oh—” the professor’s eyes were round with interest. “ Tell me about it.” | “Well—Pedro Maxwell sold five thousand head of beef steers and de- manded gold. The bank is—” “ All out for chow,” boomed a voice as the stage came to a halt with shriek- ing brakes. Professor Alfred Darley looked out to see a little station house around which were built a number of barns, stage sheds and other outbuildings of similar type. - He alighted stiffly, stretching his thin legs as he walked toward the eating house. He looked around to see Hal Donald following. “You know—lI’ve been thinking,” he said, when the young man had caught up with him, “ that perhaps we should appraise the authorities that a desperate man is riding as a passenger in their treasure coach—” “Just you leave that hombre to me, professor,” the other broke in, “I just eat them tin horns alive. Personally, I reckon he’s a road agent, but still— you can’t tell.” “A road agent? You mean an em- ployee of the stage line ?” ‘““T mean a bad man, a robber, a high- wayman—he’s the hombre I’m looking for or I’m a horned toad.” 9A 273 “Then don’t you think it would be better to arrest him and thus avoid bloodshed ?” ‘We don’t do things that way out here. If you arrested every hombre that might do something wrong, they wouldn’t be enough folks outside the jails to hold a round-up. You just leave this maverick to me, If I need any help —Tl ask you.’ Donald’s laughing eyes were sober now. A flinty light shone in their cool depths. “Will you?” Eagerness sounded in the professor’s tone. “ Goodness gra- cious—I never—still—I shall. be de- lighted to be of any assistance. What can we do?” Hal Donald glanced around to see their huge traveling companion clam- bering out of the stage. “We can’t do anything—now,” he said, “ but wait until this afternoon and I'll show you. That hombre ain’t going to have me for a notch on his shooting iron. Not me. He'll probably go to sleep again after dinner. It’s hot down there in the valley and while he’s snor- ing, we'll fix him up so he won’t be quite so pizen.” ‘“é How: 2 placid face was alive with excitement. Another quick glance around. Then in a thick whisper: “We'll sneak those six-guns of his and when I get through with them, he'll be as harmless as a baby.” “ Ah—a prophylactic measure.” “T don’t know if it’s as bad as all that, but a dead six-gun sure takes the sting out of that kind of rattler.” During the dinner, Hal Donald con- tinued to keep his eyes upon the dark giant, who had slept through the morn- ing on the front seat. Professor Darley, however, contin- ued eating, serenely ignorant of the tensing situation. ““T was right—he is a road agent,” Donald whispered, as he joined the old- er man in the station house yard. “ What’s more—he’s got a hunch I’m Gomichbook The professor’s usually | (E@)