Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

i$ ARGOSY-AL down to Yumpa to collect my water tax for me and—where is it?” “ Right yere in my pocket plied stiffly. ‘“ Durned neat bucks in water = + green and vel He uced handfuls of gre low J ag and Red Wilpin sank —_ upon a rock after taking possession of the cash “Xt / 5” Friday re- five thousand day”? ‘d faintly. ‘‘ We've got Friday,” he sa : hat little just one hoss between us. That's tt : buckskin o’ mine. He's a wanderin’ aroun somewhere behind the water tank. You fetch him. I got some real important busi- ness to discuss with Margie here.” When Friday had gone in quest of the buckskin, Larry turned to the girl. Color had flowed into her cheeks. Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked up at him, and her lips were curved in a smile. -“ Margie,” he said sternly, “ you and I have been through a whole lot in the last day or so—since we met.” a Yes, Larry.” “You know what a mean, low-down, or- ery, hot-headed, hard-boiled cuss I am. ‘ve said things to you that you ought to 1ave slapped me good for. I reckon some- yody ought to take me out and beat me up yroper. What I’m a drivin’ at is, you sort of know just about what I am.” She nodded. “And lookin’ at you standin’ there, so cute and purty and all, it’s just come over me in the last few minutes what ailed that farm o’ mine. It’s been lackin’ the refinin’ influence of a pure, noble woman. There's a minister in that little white church down there: and it seems like to me that he’s been spared through hurricane, landslide, fire and | cloudburst for the particular puppose of marrvin’ us. “I'm a rich man now. I’ve got five | | dollars of honest, hard-earned money right here in my pockets, and one 0’ these days I aim to be the richest man in the State. Give us a kiss, kid, and let’s go down there and get spliced.” Red Wilpin removed his lips from those of his fiancée as Friday led the buckskin up. “Wall,” the old mountaineer said briskly, “ when ‘re we a goin’ t’ start banditing in real earnest?” LSTORY WEEKLY. “we ain't,” his employer replies « we're goin’ back to dry farmin’. I’ve done changed my mind!” CHAPTER XLII. LOVE CONQUERS ALL, ITH Margery Corbin riding the W buckskin, and Friday Pepper and Red Wilpin afoot, they proceeded down the valley of Yumpa to the edge of the gravel slide beneath which the most notorious town of the old Southwest was lying in charred and splintered ruins. Red Wilpin carried the mail order cata- logue in his hands. And as he walked he thumbed the pages. Occasionally he mut- tered. “ Fifteen thutty-five! Whut in Sam Hill do you know about that, Margiee Only fifteen thutty-five for a genuine quail and cuckoo clock that strikes every quarter hour! I'll have to get us one of them, Marge. It ’ll bring back that Jerginson of mine, sort of.” “Is there anything about girls’ clothing in that catalogue, Larry? Every stitch I own, is on.” Her lover flipped a few hundred pages. “ Right here, kid! ‘ Dresses of wonder- ful style and value for full figgers! Only seventeen ninety-five.’ It says here: ‘ As evidence o’ the expert workmanship we have lavished on this frock you will appreciate the ample sweep and perfect fitting lines afforded by the slightly gathered fullness in the back of the skirt. Thutty-eight to fifty-two inches bust measure.’ And it don’t cost but—”’ “ T have not a full figure,” Margery inter- rupted stiffly. “Iam a perfect thirty-six.” “Sure, you are, Margie! I was Jookin’ at th’ wrong page. Here it is! Sizes fer misses and juniors. ‘ The true excellence of these styles is not to be measured by their low price.’ Here’s jest the dress you're lookin’ for, hon’. ‘ Artistic motifs, hand embroidered in purty wool yarns, lend a smartly youthful touch to th’ collar, cuffs and tailored pockets. All wool French serge. Shipping weight, two pounds. And the price ain’t but five ninety-eight. Now, I call that GOMIGDOOo C SS Co