The Argosy, April 1916 — page 177: what you’re looking at

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

WHEN THE DEPUTY CAME FOR BUD. it is my painful duty to advise you that Bud will have to remain behind.” “Huh!” exclaimed Bud “What for, Spud?” ‘You are wanted, on an old charge, back home. in surprise. Who in the hotel wants ‘When you four trouble-teasers started to explore the great Southwest in an auto- mobile fire-engine a while back and got yourselves into jail and one thing another you also got your names in the papers pretty much all over the U.S. A. A deputy sheriff back in Piedmont, New York, read about you and wired me to see if you wasn’t a party he was looking for. ‘Seems that from divers scars, hair and eye colors and other things, that you. are, and the deputy is on his way here now and is due to arrive to-morrow night on the six o’clock if he makes connections. He says he knows you well—his name is John Mal- logy “Why, he’s my sousie!” cried Bud. “What do you know about that! My own cousin coming out here to pinch me for— why, great cats! it’s fifteen years since I pulled off that stunt!” ‘What stunt?” inquired Judge. ““Y’understand that anything you say can be used as evidence against you,” warned the sheriff. ; “That’s right,” agreed Zeke. ‘Keep your mouth shut, Bud. And say, Spud, I can’t see how this interference with our lit- tle expedition in search of wealth—all the more reason why we should gid-dap.” ‘So far as you and Billy and Judge are concerned you can go cavorting away right this minute, but Bud’s got to stick around.” “You wouldn’t pinch an old side-kick like Bud?” asked Zeke reproachfully. ‘Why, you and him,and us have been paling to- gether ever since this burg was founded!” “T ain’t going to pinch him!” retorted the sheriff. ‘The deputy didn’t wire anything about locking him up; he said just to keep Bud in sight, and that I aim to do. I’m just as good a friend of Bud’s as I ever was, but I’m bound to do my duty as an officer of the law, and if he tries to make a get-. away I’m a-coming after him and I’m coming a-shooting. The law’s got to be upheld, friendship or no.” Well, that was pretty definite and we didn’t argue. The sheriff rode away and Zeke began unpacking the burros. _ 167 ‘What for you doing that?” asked Bud, who was looking pretty sick. “Ain’t you going to pull for the diggings?” ‘‘Ain’t you?” asked Zeke pointedly. ‘Why, no, I’m going to stick around.” ‘So are we! Don’t you need friends in time of tribulation—you old fool!” We unpacked the burros and stored the stuff in the Red Front for future reference and then we all took a walk up*the coulée where we’d be private and undisturbed. “Now, what did you do?” began Zeke. Bud hung his head like a dog caught kill- ing sheep. ‘‘T sure hate to tell,” he murmured. “It was such a darn small measly little thing— it didn’t amount to nothing.” ‘“‘What’d you do?” insisted Zeke. “I—I stole a horse.” ‘“Ohhhhh-—I see! You stole a horse— that doesn’t amount to nothing—oh, no! They don’t even send a man to prison round here for a little thing like that—they just hang him!” “T know it. Now that you boys are wise to what they’ve got against me, I suppose you'll want to wash your hands of—~” “Oh, shut up!” interrupted Zeke crossly. ‘““‘We’re partners, and your trouble is our Now, let’s get at this . trouble all the way! thing—ain’t there extenuating circum- stances? Who’d you steal that horse of?” ‘““My Uncle Phineas.” “Qh, it’s a family affair, then? did you steal this horse?”’ “To get away. After my folks died the judge farmed me out to Uncle Phin until I was twenty-one. I lived with him from the time I was fifteen until I had turned seven- teen—two solid years—and I worked like a mule sixteen hours a day all that time and Why for _ got whaled regular three times a week for not doing more.” “Seems to me I’ve heard or read that story before,” said Zeke thoughtfully. ‘I venture a small guess that you got board and clothes and nothing else to speak of for all this labor.” “You win. and clothes at that.” ‘““That’s the way it reads in the story-" books. Whyfor did you steal the horse?” | - ‘One day uncle whaled me with a pitch- fork handle because the harness broke, and that night I hopped the horse and-lit out of there for good and all. I rode the horse to Buffalo, sold it and bought a ticket West, and here I am. I never wrote back. At MICLOOOLK They were darn poor board C©