Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 138: what you’re looking at

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

276 ing way down into the Pecos Valley. Once more Titus Coulter stretched himself on the wide front seat, tilting his sombrero across his nose that his eyes might be shaded from the light streaming in the side windows. A glance was exchanged between the two who sat opposite him, but no words were spoken. Gradually the big man’s head drooped until his square chin rested on his breast. Next they heard his measured breathing, and noted the rise and fall of the knotted neckerchief resting on his colorful shirt. They began to speak in whispers, forming the final details of their plan to disarm the bad man. “Now?” Professor Darley glanced toward Hal Donald. “Wait a minute.” The gray eyes were looking furtively around as if they suspected unseen passengers in the treasure coach. Another interval, in which they con- tinued to hold their glances on the sleeper, now snoring lustily. A light touch on the arm, and the professor looked around. The boyish grin had deserted his lips, now thin as a knife blade with determination. “ All right?” whispered Darley. Donald nodded. Carefully Darley laid aside the small leather handbag he had held in his lap. A lurch and a half dive by the swaying coach slid it to the floor, a jingle com- ing from its depth. Hal Donald bent hastily to pick it up. “ Gosh—heavy for a little thing!” he muttered; then, as the cold, gray eyes were held upon the professor: “You must be carrying quite a little dinero yourself.” “Oh, not much—mostly silver.” A flush of annoyance swept the kindly face. Then, with a gesture toward the sleeping form: “I was afraid it would wake him up.” . Mumbling his thanks, he took the handbag to place it on the other side of the back seat. Then he arose, bal- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ' ancing himself carefully, and bent over the outstretched sleeper. “Now?” The twinkling blue eyes peered anxiously through the steel- rimmed glasses. Another nod. Professor Darley’s hand gently lift- ed one of Coulter’s heavy weapons from its holster and placed it in Don- ald’s lap. The work of putting the weapon out of action was both swift and deft. Coulter’s well notched gun was as effectively emasculated as though its bullets had been removed. It was returned in the same careful, manner and its mate abstracted from its holster to go through the same op- eration. “ Goodness me!” murmured the pro- fessor when he had resumed his seat beside Donald. “ What if he had awakened? I’m all in a twitter.” “What if the rabbit had stopped to shave when the coyote was after him?” laughed the young man in return. “You don’t need to worry about him now. He won’t do any shooting. Not with those guns. And the beauty of it is, he won’t suspect anything until he draws. If we had taken the shells out, he might have noticed it, but this way, he'll be cold meat if he starts any- thing.”’ Professor Darley took off his spec- tacles to wipe a microscopic fleck of dust from their lenses. His gaze was fixed upon the now grim features of his companion. Hal Donald had changed greatly in the last few miles. Plainly he was tensing himself for the climax of the drama he was playing. ‘““T hope—I hope I’ve done nothing that will get you into any trouble,” Darley whispered. “Listen, professor, I fatten on trou- ble. That big hombre won’t bring me any wrinkles. Not when [’ve got Betsy with me.” His hand rested on the weapon he carried under his arm. (e(0) DOOKS (E@)