Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

588 wrote her name in the ledger. Then she looked anxioysly about her. For a mo- ment she did not see Red Wilpin. He had dropped back and was conversing with Friday Pepper. One of the men in the chairs along the walls awoke at this juncture and saw her. He arose and came heavily toward her. He wore a black beard and his lips in the midst of it were red and shiny. His eyes gleamed as he neared the girl. “Wall,” he said boisterously, “ef my leetle sweetheart ain’t showed up just in time!” ‘“ Who—who are you?” she wailed. “Me? Why, I’m Rollin’ Roscoe. I jest rolls and rolls. Fust yere, then yonder. My goodness, whut a sweet, purty leetle gal ya are! And ain’t them clothes cute!” A large brown claw reached for her shoul- der, and she shrank back against the desk until she could retreat no farther. The brown claw descended with a viselike grip, and the dingy room seemed to swim. He was drawing her toward him. He was going to kiss her. The gloating eyes and slimy lips came nearer and nearer. ‘‘ Larry!” she cried faintly. Abruptly she was released. Rolling Ros- coe was stretched out on the floor and Red Wilpin stood over him with clenched fists. “Tf you lay your hand on my girl again,” he snapped, “ you’re a goin’ t’ get worse than that, you dirty claim jumper! This girl is my girl—savvy?” Rolling Roscoe sat up and wiped blood from his mouth with the back of one hand. “ Sufferin’ cats, Red,” he whined, “ how'd 1 know she was yore gal? Why don’t ya put a label on her?” “ There’s a label on her now,” Red Wil- pin informed the tensely quiet and expect- ant room, “and it says ‘ Red Wilpin’s girl —hands off!’ You get me, you yellow dogs? Anybody who’s thirstin’ fer a fight, speak up now!” There was no response. Red Wilpin swaggered to the desk. “Va got a room fixed up for her?” ‘Shore, Red, shore—room 10. Quiet, nice room. Southern exposure. Got a real brass bed in it.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, “Gimme the key!” Red snapped. ‘“C’mon, Friday. C’mon, Margie.” They ascended a flight of rickety stairs, and found rcom 10 at the end of the hall. It was a box of a room, pine floored, pine ceiled. The door was equipped with an iron bolt one inch square. Red Wilpin tossed the mail sack on the bed. | Margie,” he cried in a ringing voice, ‘““T’m leavin’ the United States mails with you, and I want you to guard ’em the way a wild cat guards its young. There ain’t anything in Yumpa half as sacred as that mail sack, Margie. If anybody comes along and tries to get it away from you, fight for it, Margie, tooth and nail—fight for it with the last drop o’ blood in your ‘body. Don’t let anybody get it except across your dead body.” “You know I’m simply terrified!’’ she wailed. Red Wiipin nodded approvingly. “That’s the correct attitude to take, Marge. It ‘ll keep you awake. It ‘ll mean you won't have the bag sneaked away When you aren’t lookin’, Keep on bein’ terrified till I get back. I prob’ly won’t be gone longer ’n eight or ten hours. I’m leavin’ a message with th’ man at th’ desk. It says if you ain’t here perfectly safe and sound and happy when I call for you, he’s a goin’ to answer to me. If you get scairt, just send four me over to Hell’s Delight. ll be there till dawn. By that time I reckon Tl! have some excitement figgered out for to-morrow. We'll start bright and early. ‘ Now, you guard that mail sack. What- ever you do, don’t open it. You’ve got your gun and you’ve got plenty cartridges. Don’t hesitate t’ shoot anybody but me and Friday. Good-by, and don’t forget to lock that bolt.” They stepped out into the hall. The door slammed. The bolt shot home. And before they started down the hall they heard the sudden shrieking of bedsprings as the girl cast herself down, then the sound of subbing. “T don’t figger her at all,” Red Wilpin grumbled as they started downstairs. ‘‘ She is all the time a-yellin’ for thrills and more cComiclaool CO