Argosy All-Story Weekly, 4 February 1922 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

<p oy impatient motion and added irrelevantly: “Sue, I—I wish you’d just forget what I told you last night about Jake Brower. I 2 man don’t let Big Matt know who got Me, or even Wes and our boys.” = “ But, Lee, why?” Susanna’s big gray- blue eyes opened wide. “ Hasn’t Jake made trouble enough?” = “It isn’t that. The rustling is a different matter, but this is a personal affair be- tween Jake and me, and I don’t want him 5 = Caught or run out of the country till I’m : a my feet again. I don’t believe I’ll be 3 _- laid up as long as that fool Doc Rankin _ says I shall, but I don’t care if it’s a year. _ Jake’s my man, and I want to get him myself. We're Poindexters, Sue, and you __ know that our people for generations back in the South have settled their own scores.” - The boy’s face flushed. “I don’t need any = —_ My 5 ie a sheriff’s posse to fight my battles for me!” “Yes, we are Poindexters.” Susanna ee quietly enough, but her small head was lifted proudly and her eyes flashed — for an instant. Then she added: “I can’t _ go out and get Jake and his pack of ‘greasers for you, Lee, because I’m only a girl, and it is too late to keep it from the sheriff. You see, Jake wasn’t alone last = 23 when he lay in wait for you. a zi -- “J know it.” Lee nodded in grim sat- s isfaction. ‘ Couldn’t tell who the other _~ fellow was, it all happened so quick, but I _ shot his pinto from under him.” “Yes, and that dead pinto has been —— recognized by an Easterner who is staying at the Central Hotel as one he has seen Pedro Ruiz ride. Of course, if Ruiz is = u u ae ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. caught he will give Jake away fast mice to save himself.” “ Confound the luck!”” Lee moved impa- tiently once more and then suppressed a groan. “An Easterner, you say? That must be Chanler; he’s an awfully good sort, and I asked him to drop out to the Circle Six some time. Say, Sylvia told me this morning that we’ve got a real society -couple from New York staying here, with a gorgeously beautiful daughter. How did it happen? She wouldn’t give me any de- tails.” , “ They—they’re touring, and they had a slight accident to their car,” Susanna ex- plained faintly. ‘“ They'll be gone in a day or two and won’t bother you. ‘Try to sleep now, Lee. Wun See will bring you in some broth in a little while.” “ Broth!” Lee snorted contemptuously. ““I want some steak and pie! [I tell you, Sue, I'll be out of this in a week, in spite of Doc Rankin, if I have to get Wes to make me a crutch!” Smiling back at the rebellious patient, Susanna left the room, but her smile faded when on the back porch she found Tad Mason waiting for her with a long, legal- looking envelope in his hands. It bore the postmark of Mammon City, and in the upper left-hand corner the name of David Hartwell, attorney and counselor at law. Without heeding the puncher’s excited story of his conference with the sheriff, she tore open the envelope and read the brief, typed enclosure it contained, and as her eyes followed the lines they darkened and the color ebbed slowly from her face. (To be eontinued NEXT WEEK.) U U -—~-« POETRY VERSUS BUSINESS ae SAD Poetry to Business: I frolic and fly Te On Pegasus mounted I ramble the sky. See You revel in matters disgustingly tart, ° —- I analyze Life with a consummate art! Ss Commercial relations no dignity bring; ‘SSS I stride through the ages, the peer of a king. a - “ . — ee ee a 5 Se a =~ is . te a Si @) |_| H I IO U Said Business to Poetry: Be reasonable, Pete. I furnish the food, and I notice—you eat! “4 ic : 4 ‘ua ay : Pu