Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

THE BUSTER. is—Rudy Orison. Was his face bunged up an’ swelled, an’ did he have black hair, black eyes, and’ a lil black mustache?”’ ‘“ His eyes were closed—but the rest of him fits. Rudy Orison. Didn’t the use to live here?” “Yep. Left before you come. Re- versed my earmarks, huh? I guess Swing must ’a’ overlooked or forgot that calf, He’d never let it go by otherwise. He’s got more sense. He’d know it would make folks think too much. What you do then?” “I came home. What else could I do? Next day I went back with Bub, The wounded man was gone like I expected. and by the tracks it looked as though he’d gone away alone.” “ Tell anybody?” ‘“T did not—not Bub or even pa. I was savin’ it up for you. You're ¢/e in- terested party in this Slash K_ business. and I didn’t want to interfere with your— plans.” “Thanks is just words, Connie,” he be- gan awkwardly. ‘‘I dunno how— You oughtn’t ’a’ done it. You might ’a’ got plugged. I can’t thank—”’ “Don’t,” she interrupted quickly. “I ain’t lookin’ for thanks. I—I just done it like I’d ’a’ done it for anybody. I—I could swear to that wounded feller in court if you want me to,” she finished quickly. “JT don’t think it ‘ll be hardly neces- sary,” he told her grimly. ‘‘ You won’t De brought into it.” ‘Tt don’t mind.” “T do,” he said with finality. ‘ Hear anythin’ about the Rowlands?” he added with a man’s unconscious brutality. ‘“Thev're back at the Two Bar,” answered with a strained smile. “ How’s Miss Rowland’s head?” ‘* She’s doin’ fine. I saw her last week.” ‘Hear how she pulled me out there at Buck River?” “Light told me.” ered. “She saved my life,” he declared sim- ply. “ An’ her a tenderfoot, as vou might sav. It was almighty brave of her. Well, { gotta be goin’, Connie. Some day I’m hopin’ to pay vou back for what vou done she Her blue eves flick- A15 oyer there in the Kettle. Only,next time don’t do it. She’s too much risk for a girl. Well, -so-long.”’ He bobbed his head awkwardly, pulled on his hat, and mounted. ‘Good-by,” she said, stiff-lipped, her voice steady. She stood plaiting and unplaiting the corner of her checked apron long after he had turned the corner of the house. ‘‘ Oh,” she moaned suddenly, “ why couldn’t I have been the one to save his life? Why couldn’t it have been me?”’ With slow, dragging footsteps she went to the wood-shed to release her brother. From Hatchet, Corye)l rode directly to the Staple Box shack. He found Light Laurie, his thumb in a bandage, nailing cedar shakes on the roof. ‘Lo, stranger,’’ nodded Light, waving a hammer. ‘“ Have a nice ride?” ‘Then they didn’t kill you after I Jeft?” grinned Coryell. ““ Which ain’t sayin’ they didn’t want to. That cagle-beak feller—him with the nose—say, I thought he’d strangle. He shore hated to lose you like his left lung. Where you been?”’ “All over. Tell yuh later. wood-butcherin’ for?”’ ‘Cat fur, to make kitten breeches. Have a pair?” ‘“ If that roof leaks anywhere she’s yore fault in the first place. You shingled on them shakes yoreself.” ‘““How could I know the blasted nails would draw? TIT couldn’t help it, could 1? You don’t think I’m enjoyin’ this, do yuh? Hell’s bells, I mashed my thumb, an’ I got more splinters than a tamarack board, an’ I ain’t seen a livin’ soul for more’n a week—-not since I left the Two Bar.” ‘Mashed yore thumb, huh, an’ all splintered up? That és tough: You won’t be able to do no ridin’, then, I can see that.” Light Laurie pricked up his ears like a collie dog. “ Ride? Ride where?” “To Surry Side.” “ Surry Side?” Yup.” ‘Oh, that’s it, huh? You must ’a’ been awful busy these last twawestsy\ ale What you CO