Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

696 novel to the bunch under my com- mand. Not a word was passed as we trailed into the semi-darkness, for Deveture had ordered silence. Five minutes’ ride out of Gorge City were two big cottonwood trees that I had spotted, dimly seen now, but right for my pur- pose. I scrambled up the trunk of the first tree and tied a rope with a noose at the end of it to an overhanging branch. Jumping back to earth, I mounted my hoss again and ordered everybody back to watch the fun, except one of the men to go, Mark Tucker. I led his hoss under the branch and secured the noose around the neck care- fully. Then I kicked the man’s feet out of the stirrups. As his hands were tied behind his back, the joke would come when the hoss started to walk away. He’d slip off, naturally, lynched by his own mount. Two minutes later a black figure dangles from that cottonwood tree, at the end of a rope that still swings a little. Tucker’s hoss, unknowing, has scampered off from under him. A hundred yards away is another tree with a convenient branch. Here I repeats the same performance with Hanly Brown. It takes longer this time, but finally Brown’s mount shies at something and leaves him dangling in the darkness. We starts back to town, single file. I was directly behind Deveture. “Tf any trouble brews "bout this, you have the satisfaction of know- ing I was the chief strangler,” I tells him. “T’ve killed plenty in my time, Flint,” he mutters, “ but [ must say I admires your technique. Smooth as silk, and without a wrinkle.” Renwood, behind me, was not so calm. “T need a drink,” he said huskily. “That damn quiet got on my nerves. All the lynchings I ever attended be- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. fore was noisy. This one gives me the creeps: CHAPTER XX. LAW AND GHOSTS. AWOKE at dawn and tried to get out without arousing Shorty, but he grins at me from his side of the bed, next to the wall. * Don’t worry “bout looking for them swinging bodies,” he drawls. “ They was removed shortly after that collar party you put on.” ‘~ “Taken away by friends, eh?” “Yeah, cut down_not long after you left *em treading on air.” Well, cowboy, I’m riding to Fort Prescott fast as my hoss can carry me. Fork over that document.” Shorty fishes around in his tobacco -bag and produces the paper, a lot the worse for wear, and I puts same for safekeeping in my back pants pocket. “I expéct to ‘be back =by four o'clock,” I tells him. “‘ Bring Renwood and Deveture out to the cottonwoods through a tale I’m afraid to come into town, and am loaded down with news.”’ * All right, you know Renwood is on an awful tear.” I waves him back to another forty winks, and makes a straight line for my hoss. It is a good four and a half hours’ ride across the plains to Fort Prescott, and Blackie and me makes it without incident. Arriving there, I asks direc- tions to Judge Marlowe’s home, and, receiving same talks my way in while he 1s at breakfast. After making apologies for disturb- ing him I tell the judge who I really am—Harry Hawley—and the story that goes with it, how I’m sure I havea case against Renwood and Deveture. First there is my being an eyewitness to the murders, and that I can positive- ly identify Renwood, then there is the document, and to crown all I-has Daw- son to turn State’s evidence. EOPMICLOOO© G (C@