Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 177: what you’re looking at

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

A SLIGHT Before I could retreat she had made a dart at me and caught my hair in a most Vicious grasp. “Wow!” I yelled as she tugged at it with all the strength of her lithe young arms. ‘“ You little devil, do you want an entirely bald husband? Just for that I'll punish you as you deserve.” With a quick jerk, that nearly wrenched my hair from my head, I freed myself and (The NE of our commonest errors is to judge a man by his most spectacu- lar trait. A man may be notorious- ly advertised as having eaten more hard- boiled eggs than any other man in the ' world, and only a few of his friends be aware that he is a model husband and hon- orable in his dealings with others. The character of Dan Tucker, in particular, suffered through this common, human error. An introduction to Tucker is unneces- sary to any one who has ever lived in the boom towns of the South or West. For twenty years ‘ Peaceful Dan,” ‘‘ One-Eyed Dan,” or “ Dynamite Dan ’’ Tucker—take your choice—was a figure of almost na- tional notoriety. Doubtless many of his feats were exaggerated, but he was a man of prodigious strength and, at times, an utter disregard for human life, even his own. But that was not all; there was another SERVICE. 683 caught both her wrists. Then I drew her to me and planted a kiss firmly on her adorably rebellious lips. This time, as once before, her body lay quiet in my arms, but she did not glare at me angrily. With a sigh of utter happiness she put her arms around my neck and returned by kiss. And I’ve had to keep on punishing her like this ever since that mem- orable day. end.) by Wallace. M. Sloane side for his friends. He revered established authority, whether in church, law or so- ciety, though he had never “ jined nothin’ excep’ the union.” Though he could hard- ly read and write, to him education was a word to conjure with, and he regarded J. C., his thirteen-year-old, book-worm son, with respectful awe. In short, his secret dream was to acquire enough money to es- tablish a spacious home. with a great li- brary, dress his wife and children well, and live the conventional life of a gentleman. ‘“ But,” he sometimes complained dole- fully, ‘if I ever have any money, some- body ’Il have to give it to me.” Wherever he lived, he planned to estab- lish himself as a citizen, and so in the new- est boom town he listened to the old-timers and lent an ear to the old legends and tra- ditions. And they were plentiful: the ghosts of old fortunes “ lost during the late war ”; wraiths of old feuds; unsolved mur- ders of a half-century standing. What Original from : 4S (C(O)