Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

TWO-GUN MAGIC. sounded like a chuckle from beneath the mask. “I kinda been weaned; I don’t believe all I hears, nor half I sees!’ His voice grew hard at a slight _motion from the sear-faced man. “Keep ’em up, I said!” “Sorta nervous, ain’t yuh?” the scar-faced man asked. “Uh-huh,” answered Solitaire, still conscious of the fact that the more he talked the farther away the girl would be able to get. “I’m right funny that- away, mostly in my trigger fingers. I ain’t got much self-control. *Specially when I run up against a couple of dirt yeller dawgs that ‘d shoot at a woman an’ then say they was th’ Law!” “ Meaning?” asked the dark man. “That I’d just as leave shoot a cou- ple of polecats when I sees ’em as not!” “ Kinda gettin’ right personal, ain’t yuh? ‘Talkin’ right big because yuh got the drop on us,” remarked Scar- face. “ If yuh was tuh look right close at Hagen’s vest yuh might be able tuh see that badge he’s wearin’! “Oh, yea!” . Stevens stared at the man called Hagen. “ Pretty, ain’t it? An’ it’s got ‘ Sheriff’ printed on it, just as plain.” He laughed. “ Now, why didn’t I see that before? Reckon my eyesight’s gettin’ bad!’ For the first time the whistling wad- dy was convinced that these two were really officers of the law, and he was rather glad that a sudden hunch had caused him to mask his face before ap- pearing upon the road. He felt that these men and the frightened blond girl whom they had been chasing so relent- lessly had some connection with the murdered man that he had left in the ranch house but an hour ago. “T told yuh that yuh was interferin’ with the law,” remarked Hagen. Solitaire did not answer. He was listening for the sound of the girl’s horse. He could no longer hear it, and it relieved him greatly. Abruptly he put spurs to his own mount. The little gray leaped forward with startling sud- denness. 4A 193 Before the two men more than half realized what had happened, horse and rider went tearing along the road to- ward the distant town of Festival, and as they did so the sound of a faint, musically whistled tune came drifting back to Hagen’s and his deputy’s ears. There was a sound of a shot, and a bullet whistled by Stevens’s cheek. He ducked and looked back as he reached the first curve in the winding road. To his surprise the two men were not fol- lowing him. They were galloping swiftly in the direction that the girl had gone. When he had turned the curve and was out of sight, Solitaire slowed his gray down to a walk. The wandering puncher laughed as he removed the handkerchief from his face. “Reckon she’s done had time tuh get right far away,” he remarked soft- ly. “Looks like I got myself intuh somethin’ tuh-night.” He nodded. “First I goes snoopin’ round a ranch where I ain’t got no more business bein’ than a rabbit. An’ what does I find? A jasper that *d been choked tuh death an’ a lot of funny things goin’ on. “Next I gets all het up when I sees a couple of low-down jaspers shootin’ at a girl, an’ goes buckin’ th’ law.” Stevens shook his head in mock sad- ness as he rode on. “ An’ me such a peaceful hombre! It’s sure tough th’ way me an’ trouble always rides dou- ble!” Solitaire grinned, and then from his lips there issued the thrilling, birdlike notes of a strange little tune, and there was an ominous warning in that plain- tively whistled air. CHAPTER III. WHO GETS THE PROFIT? FEW minutes later Solitaire Stevens rode slowly and quietly into the little town of Festival. He glanced casually about him as he jogged along the dust-covered street. COPNICLOOOKS (E@)