Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

5d6 as for love— Great gosh! I sure am goin’ to be color blind when I fall in love with any green-eyed girl.” ‘Td like to know,” Margie said indig- nantly, ‘‘ where you borrowed this majestic hatred for girls with green eyes—and I’ve told you a dozen times my eyes aren’t green. They’re ultramarine. What did any green-eyed girl ever do to you, any- way?” ‘Never you mind.” ‘“ Did a green-eyed girl ever bite you?” “That ain’t funny.” “Well, you are. scream.” “And thar ya go!” Friday broke in tri- umphantly. ‘ A-scrappin’ agin! And jest about two minnits f’m now ya’ll find some excuse to go a-creepin’ and a-croonin’ into each other’s arms. Great crawlin’ snakes, why don’t ya admit ya’re in love, you two?” Margie laughed softly. ‘‘ What you know about women, Friday, would pass through the eye of a needle without having to draw its skirts aside!”’ ‘“ Jest because I don’t go round a-braggin’ about whut I know about wimfhen—” he sputtered. “T’ll bet you were a devil in your youth, Friday.” | ; “Ya’re jest tryin’ t’ git me off’n my subject, young lady. Wall, ya cain’t. As I was a-sayin’—” You’re a_ perfect “ Hey!” Red Wilpin interrupted him. *Yonder’s Yumpa!”’ They had reached the end of the valley. Below them, in a gigantic cup formed by gently sJaping hills, lay a cluster of wooden buildings from which pale-biue smoke arose to be lost in the flawless azure of the sky. Yumpa! CHAPTER XVIII. GUARDING THE MAILS. USK was drawing its veil over the notorious mountain village when the \ trio reached its outskirts. Lights twinkled menacingly.in clapboard struc- tures. Since her first glimpse of the village, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Margie was oppressed with a sense of fore- boding. The buildings were unpainted and dilapidated. Raucous shouts and yells ap- peared to be issuing from all of them. The single street of the town was lined with saddle horses. It was a glimpse of the West that existed perhaps thirty, forty years ago, but Miss Corbin was neither grateful nor glad to have the pages of history flipped backward to this bloody old chapter for her benefit. She was frightened. A pungent odor, composed of burned gunpowder and cheap liquor, floated down the street and it be- came more pronounced, more vigorous, as they approached two larger structures which fronted upon each other from op- posite sides of the dirt street. Horses neighed and whinnied and stamped. Two ponies were fighting, a pinto and a mustang, rearing and striking at each other with vicious hoofs, snapping at each other with flashing white teeth. But no one heeded them. Crowds streamed along both sides of the street— hilarious crowds. Yet the spirit of these men could not be said to be a carnival spirit; it contained a note too Sinister, too menacing. She jumped and nearly fell from her sad- dle as a burst of shots occurred in one of the buildings they passed. Yet no one on the streets, or her companions, took notice of it. ‘“Who—who are these creatures?” she stammered. Red Wilpin, riding beside her in the purple dusk, chuckled softly. ‘““They’re desert rats, hoss thieves, cat- tle rustlers, claim jumpers, outlaws—just bad men generally, Margie. Say, ain’t it great? Don’t it give you a real sure- enough thrill?” “Tm frightened,” she said. “ Nothin’ t’ be scared of, honey. I’m a goin’ to get you a nice, quiet room in the hotel yere, and if anybody gets frisky you just tell them you’re Red Wilpin’s girl. Savvy? And if that don’t make no im- pression, you send somebody for me. Tl be over in Hell’s Delight.” He reined in to speak to Friday. “ Fri- day, old pal, ain’t this grand? Whut color COMM coooks.com