Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

190 long. Solitaire realized this as he stood up, his brain working swiftly. This was murder, but who had done it and how? His eyes searched the still form for some sign of a wound. ‘There was no blood on the man’s cloth- ing, which, save for the heavy riding boots, was of decidedly fashionable Eastern cut. Then the sight of an angry red mark about the man’s throat answered the question in Stevens’s mind as to how he had died. He had been brutally choked to death by some one possessing unusual strength, but by whom? That was what the whistling waddy wanted to know. From those strange croaking whis- pers he had heard, the faint sounds of a strugele, he was quite sure that he had heard a murder being committed as he had lingered there at the doorway- of the house. If such was the case, then what had become of the murderer? Something made him turn quickly in the direction of the window. As he did so he caught a glimpse of a shad- owy face staring into the room, but it was gone before he could see it clearly. Swiftly Solitaire dashed to the lamp. In an instant he had blown it out and the room was once again in black dark- ness. With noiseless, catlike steps the two- gun man made his way back to the window. When he reached it he stood peering out into the yard about the ranch house. He could see clearly, for the moon had risen and the surround- ing country was bathed in its mellow glow. There was no one near the window now, he was quite sure of that. A short distance from the house was a little clump of trees, and beyond these were the square, shaded forms of the barns and the bunk house with the corral on their left. As he stood there staring out Stevens’s cold blue eves narrowed. In the shadows near the edge of the trees he had caught sight of a weird figure. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. It was that of a huge man, but now it was crawling along on hands and knees like some strange animal. Swiftly Solitaire drew his guns and covered the crawling man. He was just about to fire when from behind him there came the soft, croaking whis- per that he had heard before. He turned in the direction of the sound. It seemed to have come from the vicinity of the front door. As he stood staring through the darkness, the door abruptly swung shut and he heard ° the latch click. He glanced out the window again. The crawling figure was gone; there was no one in sight. Slowly, with both guns ready for ac- tion, the waddy moved toward the front door of the ranch house, his face grim and set. He paused again and stood motionless, listening as he heard the sound of a horse’s hoofs outside the door, and then a jingle of spurs as a rider dismounted. Solitaire suddenly realized that he was in a dangerous position. He was a total stranger in this part of the coun- try, and to be found alone in the dark- ness of this ranch house with a man who had obviously been murdered would require a good bit of explana- tion. He had grave doubts as to any one believing the truth at that. ‘To state that he had caught sight of the ranch in the distance, and ‘after tying his mount in a little shelter of trees some two hundred yards away, had made his way to the house on foot merely as a whim was a very doubtful story. Any one would want to know upon hearing it why he had not ridden up to the house as any peacefully inclined puncher would have done instead of hiding his horse amid the trees. Sol- itaire did not know the answer himself ; it had been merely an unexplainable hunch on his part that had caused him to do so. Abruptly there came the sound of some one knocking at the closed front door loudly and insistently. (€(0) DOOKS AAI x (C@