Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

& ; a _ tHe WHE ae The Red Man's Way By JOSEPH T. KESCEL FIGURE darkened the sunlit A coors Sheriff Bob Hunter, tall, grizzled, and coatless, raised his keen gray-blue eyes from the paper in his hand and looked across his scarred pine desk at his visitor. There, coming forward in the light step of the red man, was little old Yuma ‘Tom, a dark-gray Indian-woven blanket draped loosely around his shoulders and an eagle’s feather canted back in his black hair. “How, Mista Bob!” he said, stick- ing out his hand. “J readum your smoke signal from hills, and ridum here heap fast.” ‘ How, Little Gray Eagle! I’m just mighty glad to see you.” Yuma Tom uses his wits to work his way. out of a_ situation that seems to have him completely hemmed in iy, = Uy} Wik A ue di h SS LS Sheriff Hunter arose and stepped around his desk. He sometimes ad- dressed the old redskin by his tribal name, though usually he called him «Lon They shook hands before Hunter, motioning toward a chair, invited: “Sit down, Tom. I want to have quite a powwow with you.” The tall sheriff seated himself on the edge of his desk as Yuma Tom took the chair. “Tom, I’ve got another job for you, if you'll help me out. A sort of delicate job.” They were old and tried friends, this pair, and on numerous occasions the sheriff had called upon the famous 634 EOI VOO KS