Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

THE MAN “Near the place of the holdup they found this here funny twisted leather hatband,” he went on; “ somethin’ al- together different from anything you ever seen around these parts. Looks like the killer got tangled up in the brush as he was sneakin’ up on them Loder fellows and lost it.” ‘“S’pose the sheriff’s on his trail by this time, ain’t he?” old Jake asked nonchalantly, turning again to his drink on the bar. The judge glared at his questioner. “You know darn well th’ sheriff’s been laid up in his bed for the last two days, Jake! Seeing how I’m the judge here, it’s up to me to appoint a substi- tute sheriff to land that killer. And [ was stumped proper just who to name till a minute ago, when I saw you standin’ here at th’ bar, handin’ out yore old spiel about what a great lead slinger yuh was down on th’ Rio Grande. You’re the man! This oughta clean up another matter what’s been on our minds for some time, along with who caused th’ Loder fellows’ deaths!” To the crowd of miners, prospectors and desert rats gathered in the smoky, low-ceilinged barroom of the Lucky Strike, this challenge to Jake Haw- kins’s veracity held equal importance with the tragedy. To a man, they were just as anxious to see how old Jake would face this test as they were to have the killer apprehended. Those who sided with Jake were loud in their shouts of approval of the judge’s selection, feeling that Jake would acquit himself with credit. While those who had belittled him in various discussions smiled in a know- ing way, glad to have the opportunity of proving the falsity of Jake’s ex- travagant claims. Both factions, how- ever, eagerly awaited Jake’s answer. “ Don’t—don’t know about that, judge—me takin’ th’ sheriff’s place,” Jake stammered. “ You see, I ain’t as young as I used tuh be back in them days along the Rio Grande. Besides, FROM THE RIO GRANDE. 169 I ain’t been here long enough to get a good lay of th’ land, and that’s a lot of help when you’re runnin’ down a bad man in these parts.” Jake’s disparagers exchanged satis- fied winks and glances, while his sup- porters were completely floored. “jist as I thought!’ the judge snapped. “ You ain’t got the guts to chase a rabbit! And tuh hear you tell- in’ about notchin’ away th’ grips of yore guns—huh!” Jake’s face flushed. “ Don’t get so hasty, judge! Maybe it ain’t altogether a case of guts. Ever think about that?” “Well, what is it, then?” the judge shouted back. “‘ And I can’t see that it takes so much nerve at that—not with a big posse like we'll give yuh to land one lone man! Every one of th’ others will be riskin’ almost as much as yuh,” It appeared to the crowd in the Lucky Strike that Judge Wilson was bent upon making old Jake’s humilia- tion complete, pressing his victim as he did, when there were plenty of others in the room both willing and capable of filling the sheriff’s place. Old Jake assumed a _ thoughtful frown. “ Thinkin’ it over, judge,” he finally said, “I guess I'll take you up—that’s provided yuh give me a right respecta- ble posse. But some of th’ other boys has got tuh help me lead th’ way, ’cause I don’t know th’ ground well enough.” ‘““S’pose you'd like a battery of ar- tillery from Fort Graydon tuh go ahead of yuh!” the judge grunted. “Well, you cain’t have that, but yore posse ’ll be plenty.” “Jist how many?” old Jake asked. To the inhabitants of Copper Gulch gathered in the Lucky Strike, not only Jake’s detractors but his former sup- porters as well, the whole thing was becoming a farce. Old Jake had plainly shown that his much vaunted bravery existed only in his mind, and why should the judge persist in forcing him into a task far from his liking, when there were so many others about? (E0) ONOOLKS mie (E@)