Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

686 num’rous outstretched legs. Space was scarce. 3 Renwood gets up from his seat and greets me cordial. “ Mr. Deveture, I want to make you known to Harry Flint,” he says, “ the gent I tells you about who saves my life to-night by using his brain and his gun at the same instant.” The hawk-faced man takes my fin- gers with a thin hand, but he has a grip of iron. “T’m glad to meet you, Mr. Flint. A second’s quickness often means a feller cheats the cemetery a-plenty.”’ ‘“‘ Aw, it was nothing,” I replies, get- ting into an empty chair. “If I allus bent guns over varmints’ heads instead of plugging ’em with lead I wouldn’t have had to skip so many counties. My thumb just gets extreme impa- tient.” “A gun fanner, eh?” Deveture’s eyes shine with iterest in their gray depths under the black brim of his hat. “Just a wee bit faster,” I grins. “The old thumb can feel in the dark— no fumbling for a trigger. Wish I had the money I spent on ammunition, for practice; but throwing down fast has saved my life times too num’rous to mention.” On purpose I was giving the impres- sion of being a hard case. Deveture, who listens intently, don’t seem armed at all. Guess he wore a shoulder hol- ster that fitted in under his arm, show- ing none with his coat on. “Vou here on a business trip, ‘side from that rescue of Renwood’s gal from the Injuns? Saving lives ain't yet developed into a business, far as I know.” 5 Deveture bent forward in his chair to await the answer to the question. “T agrees saving lives gets no dinero, but snuffing ’em out is a profession,” I laughed harshly. “I’m what they calls a soldier of fortune; my gun be- longs to him who hires me—but I don’t want any cow-punching for a spell. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “That so,’ drawled Deveture. “Well, mebbe I'll have some work that'll meet your fancy around here for you. Living over at the Gorge City House?” “ean.” “Then don’t pay no room rent, if you hasn't already.” “T gave the man two dollars,” I said seriously. “Get it back; say I said so. Your room is free. And any time you need a little money—you know what I mean —twenty or thirty in gold—draw on my faro dealer. He’ll tell the man on the day shift.” He called to the gambler. “Give Mr. Flint what he wants, in reason,” he said curtly, ‘‘and tell Black- wood to do the same.” The man nodded, and Deveture gave me a searching glance. “ Things is coming to a head here in Gorge City, like a sore boil that has to burst. There’s going to be a show- down you might call it. I’ve been running this town since the first hut was put up on the prairie, and, by thunder, I’m a-going to continue. “I need a man like you, with sense but no scruples. When I heard how you saved Renwood to-night I was pleased proper. As to your duties— none, till I say the word. But stick around so I can get you when I need you.” ‘ That’s cheerful talk to me,” I says. “Tl consider myself hired.” “I’m never here until four in the afternoon,” continues Deveture. “ So, onless something unusual is on, the day is the same as your own.” While we makes this agreement I could see Renwood wasn’t what you’d call pleased. Mebbe he wanted me as a killer for pay himself, or a guard. Hair-trigger hellions seemed in de- mand. Possible Leary’s mysterious taking off had stirred ’em up, and they hears a secret voice whisperin’: “ Next!” COPMICLOOKS (E@)