Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

046 The crowd muttered. “Well, what are you going to do about it?” Red Wilpin demanded. ‘“ You ain’t got any material evidence against me; and it’s purty doubtful if th’ word of any of these witnesses is wuth a damn. Don’t me and this gal deserve some justice? Ain’t you convinced that we do, judge?” . Judge Oglethorpe wavered. ‘The posse, irked by the delay of what had promised to be thrilling fun, protested. “Ya know, jedge,” Spavin Yampdon in- serted, ‘‘ this lad has a repytation fer bein’ slick and quick thinkin’ Eft ya want my opinion, he’s jest stallin’ fer time. Ef ya don’t hang him now, he'll shore slip out o’ yore hands.’’ | “Yes, judge,” Mrs. Yost added. ‘“‘ And I put nothing beyond that shameless girl— nothing. ‘“Even now she is scheming, and if she escapes once more I know that she will not rest content until she has committed upon me some unspeakable, horrible re- venge.” ‘17d like to wring your nasty old neck!” Margery Corbin said hotly. Mrs. Yost shrank behind the protective circle of pistol muzzles. ‘ There!” she cried. ‘‘ You see! She wants to strangle me!” “Well, judge,” the marshal broke in, “ it’s up to you. We will abide by your de- cision.” All eyes turned again to the stern, hoary old face of Judge Oglethorpe. ‘There is only one thing to do,” he said with finality. ‘ This town is a lawless community. There is no court of law. Jus- tice must be meted out according to the form that is followed in all lawless lands. ‘“ The robes of justice are not at hand, the panoply of a civilized tribunal is not available. We must conduct this trial ac- cording to the code of the great Southwest. “And from time immemorial the judge who has presided at all trials in this land of manly men and womanly women has ever been one and the same—a grim, uncom- promising figure. Not a man, but a prin- ciple—the principle of swift, ruthless jus- tice.” In a voice that seemed to partake ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. of some quality of the thundering storm, he finished: ‘“‘ And his name, ladies and gentlemen, is —Judge Lynch!” CHAPTER XXII. THE TEMPTER. HIMPERING with alarm at these \Xy unexpected words, this postpone- ment of a cruel, but accepted fate, Margery Corbin permitted her bandit lover to half lead, half carry her toward the blaz- ing wnite doorway of Hell’s Delight. The crowd, muttering with ill-concealed vexa- tion at the delay, surged after the two lovers into this deserted edifice of sin—-this clapboard cathedral of crime. Yumpa, in the course of its black and bloody history, had seen many strange things, but never a scene so strange as this. The temper of the habitués of Hell’s De- light was, as a matter of fact, dangerous. Six pairs of eyes had seen Red Larry Wil- pin hold up the stage coach; six pairs of arms had been lifted into the air at his com- mand; five smarting victims had been left to ponder over their plight, when, with -the beautiful Margery Corbin as hostage, he had made his getaway. These facts had al- ready been assimilated by the customers of Hell’s Delight. Red Wilpin, on prima facie evidence, was guilty of a crime that had always been pun- ishable in these parts by hanging. ‘To try him in the face of such damning evidence was a waste of time. And the girl ought to be hanged without delay too, by jingo! Wasn’t she his gal? Couldn’t a blind prairie dog see that? Hadn’t they exchanged a kiss in the presence of a hundred witnesses —a kiss so long and intense that, at its con- clusion, both had reeled and all but fallen? ‘'T’ hell with tryin’ ’em!”’ a burly pros- pector roared. ‘‘ Whut’s th’ sense of all this vere dilly-dallyin’?”’ “ That’s whut [ say!” a one-eyed cattle rustler enthusiastically agreed. The prospector seized him by the hand. “T left my pal out yonder in th’ Smokin’ Desert,” he hoarsely divulged, “ sufferin’ from th’ bite inflicted by a gila monster— EO DOO S CO