Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

FLIGHT TO listen? But you needn’t tell me vour idea. I know it. Men haven’t got but one real idea—have they?’’ Wade Murrell took off his hat and swept the mop of thick. black hair away from his forehead. His face, too, had suddenly paled under his tan and over one eve the scar showed livid; the color of wood ashes burned down to the last ember. ‘Ef ye means ye’ve got any cause ter fear me—or mistrust me,”’ he said, and the stillness of his tone was almost a whisper, THE HILLS. 907 “ye’re a liar an’ ye knows hit full well.” He paused, and drew a deep breath that caught gaspingly in his round chest, then he went on with a suddenly mounting passion: ‘An’ ef ye’re got a bound ter sermonize at me erbout men an’ women an’ straight- dealin’ betwixt ’em—then for God’s good sake go down thar ter thet spring-branch an’ wash ther foul paint offen yore face a’fore ye starts out. Ye talks righteousness whilst ye looks like a trollop.” TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK U AMBI u Le] TION! 7 WHat am I goin’ t’ be when I Grow up—’n’ wear long pants? Somebody’s got t’ take Babe Ruth’s Place—I got We played th’ a chance. Gaul Street Sons-o’-Guns T’-day—’n’ I made thirty runs! ’N’ Jack Dempsey is gittin’ old— They say he’s married, too! I bet y’ I could take his place— If I jus’ wanted to. I’ve licked some tough kids, anyway— ’"N’ lots 0’ ones like Clarence Ray. I could go in th’ movies too— Jus’ watch me make a face! T ask y’ could Tom Mix do that? I might take Bill Hart’s place. I c’n shoot, good—ask Mr. Broome; T shot him in th’ sittin’ room. They say: Ted c’n be this ’r that— I guess it’s me ’Il choose. Ym wearin’ pop’s ol’ pants right now— Maybe [ll fill his shoes. T know one thing I'll do, b’gee— Lick ev'rybody that’s licked me!’ | R. E. Alexander. Conn lODOOK CO