The Argosy, April 1916 — page 180: what you’re looking at

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

170 When they struck the main thoroughfare it was the cue for Shorty Potts and Doc Turner to open up on each other with their guns, out in the middle of the street, and they sure did give a Fourth-of July celebra- tion while the shells lasted. Zeke hustled his man into the Red Front out of danger of stray bullets before they quit. ‘‘Those suckers have had a grouc’ on for three days,” he informed the deputy. “‘It’s high time they were getting down to busi- ness and settling their differences. Have a drink, bo.” The deputy accepted the drink grate- fully. He seemed to need it. As he hoisted it Judge got around behind him and let off a pot-shot at his boot-heel, taking out a nice chunk. Mr. Mallory lost half his drink and swallowed the other half the wrong way. ‘Hold on, there, old timer,” expostulated Zeke to Judge. “Don’t go getting gay with a limb of the law. This here’s the deputy sheriff what’s come after Bud.” “Oh, I beg your pardon,” apologized Judge. “I thought you was just an ordi- nary tenderfoot. I always greet ’em this way.” . The deputy coughed and sputtered an finally got his breath, but before he could _ express an opinion Zeke broke in again. “Had supper?”’ “No. i “Well, come along to the restaurant and . we'll feed up.” : Mr. Mallory tried to protest that he wasn’t hungry, but Zeke dragged that lily _ white deputy to the Chinaman’s joint and sat him down at a table, while the gang stampeded into the kitchen where they could watch the show unobserved. “Here, Chow, bring me and Mr. Mallory two nice juicy heifer steaks, and see that they are thick and rare,” Zeke ordered. “Alle light,” grinned. Chin, and hustled out. : Things were reasonably quiet in the res- taurant, and it gave the deputy a chance to get his nerve back. “Do you know,” he confided to Zeke, “I was under the impression that the West had tamed down. I had no idea that. men still acted so terrible! Why, it’s just as bad as it ever was, ain’t it?” - “Bad?” exclaimed Zeke in surprise. “You don’t call this bad, do you? Why, man alive! it’s so darn monotonous around these diggings that most of the old settlers are moving out in search of excitement. THE ARGOSY. You’d ought to have been around here in the eighties and nineties—there was some- thing doing then, believe me!” Chow came in with the steaks. He had cut them three inches thick and fried them about three seconds on each side. As he plunked them down in front of the diners Ike Walters came in at the front door and. let out a yowl like a Rocky Mountain cata- mount complaining of the toothache. “I’m a rip-snortin’ double-back-action German torpedo with a back-kick, and I’m lookin’ for trouble!” he informed the in- mates of the room. “Well, I reckon here’s a man what can give it to you!” retorted Zeke, indicating the deputy. “Rise up on your hind legs, Mallory, and show this galoot what a sure enough Easterner can do when he takes a notion!” ‘“Bangity bang!” went Ike’s guns, and Mr. Mallory’s steak took a walk, while the plate scattered around the room in small bits. The deputy disappeared under the table like a gopher down its hole, whereat Zeke jumped up and shot Ike dead through the heart with a blank cartridge. Then he yanked Mr. Mallory out and put him back in his chair. ‘““What’s the matter with you, old-timer? Foot slip?” he inquired. “Buck up, son, and get hold of yourself, and don’t be so nervous. Chow,” he added, turning to the chink, “Get that carcass out of sight, and see that. we ain’t disturbed by any more rowdies during this meal. Bring Mr. Mal- lory another steak.” : “Alle light,” grinned Chow, and taking Ike by the collar he dragged him out into the kitchen. You never saw a man have such a tine as Zeke did making that tenderfoot eat his supper. He seemed to have got out of the notion altogether. It didn’t take much of a mind-reader to see that he was wishing with all his little heart and soul that he was some place else instead of where he was. ‘Now we'll go down to the Bucket of Blood and wait for Bud,” announced Zeke when they had finished. “The boys have sent word that you are here and Bud ought to be along shortly. I suppose you’ve got handcuffs and things with you—Bud ain’t likely to come along like a tame cow.” “I guess I won’t try to arrest him,” said the deputy faintly. “What?” roared Zeke, looking his fierc- COMmiclboo S (C@