Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 4, 1922 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

TWO-GUN SUE. from her mistress to the strange monster of a machine, and then trotted off obedient- ly back up the side road while the girl approached the car and the trio who stood beside it. “Tf you take that road to the first turn- ing to your right, and then follow the wire fencing, it will lead you straight to the gates of a ranch where they’ll take you in,” she announced. “ Your car will be brought to you there as soon as I have done with it.” The bulky figure had shrunk back in horror at her approach, but the taller one turned away with a mere shrug, while the elderly man asked: “Can you tell me how far it is to the hospitable gates you mention?” He spoke with ironic courtesy, but the girl appeared oblivious to his sarcasm. “ About six miles; four after you strike the fence line. You'll find a town with a hotel of a sort a few miles farther, should you prefer that, and they'll lend vou horses at the ranch if you can ride them.” There was no hint of contempt in her matter-of-fact tone, but the elderly man reddened slightly. “Tf this ranch you mention is the near- est, I fear we must endeavor to reach it and throw ourselves upon the mercy of its owner, but you seem very confident of our welcome.” “In this part of the country we don’t refuse our help in time of need, or close our doors to any one.” She mounted to the seat beside the chauffeur, the pistol still resting lightly upon the hip farthest from -him. ‘Turn this car and drive back as fast as you can until you come to a break in the fence where the wires are down on this side of the road; then cut straight through it.” ‘Yes, ma’am,” he responded with celer- ity. ‘It’s back about three miles. Saw it when we passed, and there's a dead horse lyin’ there—a sort of a calico pony.” Without a word or glance at his em- ployers, he turned the switch key and stepped on the starter, and with the first low humming of the engine the car began to back in a sweeping curve, to turn and shoot off down the highway in a screening cloud of dust. 329 A little later, when Garrison Chanler, having taken leave of Sylvia at the gates of the Circle Six, was loping slowly toward the Bar D for supper and a smoke with the boss of the outfit, he came upon a strange group in the road. A tall, willowy girl, whose loosened veils revealed hair of bril- liant gold and almost classically perfect features, was moving forward with a lan- guid grace which yet outstripped the pace of a small, elderly man and a massively stout woman who leaned heavily upon him and expelled each breath with a groan. The young man pulled up his broncho at the same instant that the trio halted, and they stared at each other for a long mo- ment in mutually astounded recognition. “‘ Garry!” the girl cried at last. “ Garry, where in the world—”’ ‘“‘ Chanler, by all that’s wonderful!” The elderly man unceremoniously withdrew his arm from that of his stout companion and hastened forward while she echoed weakly: ‘* Mr. Chanler!”’ The young man had flung himself from his horse and grasped a hand each of the girl and her father. “Daisy! Mr. Acheson! You are the last people one would have expected to encounter. And Mrs. Acheson, too!” He advanced toward her, his quick eye taking in their motor attire and generally dishev- eled appearance. ‘‘ You—you're not on a walking tour, surely!” “Call it rather a forced march, my boy!’’ Dacon Acheson spoke with the same grim, dry humor which he had evinced a short time before. ‘‘ We were held up a while back and our car commandeered by an enterprising young female road-agent—”’ ‘* Commandeered!”’ Mrs. Acheson inter- rupted in high dudgeon. ‘‘ The car was stolen, Mr. Chanler, and our chauffeur kidnaped. We were compelled to aban- don it and all our hand luggage at the point of a pistol—” “Two pistols, mother,”’ Daisy corrected. ‘“* Do let us have all the thrills!” ‘“* And we were fired upon,” supplement- ed Mrs. Acheson, her tones deepening trag- ically. ‘“ It is a miracle that we were not all murdered in cold blood!” “ What’s this?” Garry stared from one COmiclbooks.Gonmn