W. C. Tuttle

“ We're a heap hungry, and when we gets in shooting range we smells fried onions and coffee. There's an aroma of biscuits on the air, too, which don't hurt our noses none.
We pilgrims into the yard, and as we slips off our broncs the door opens, and we sees our heart's desire. ”

“ If I had five minutes alone with her I'd have her hand."
"I'll bet yuh would," I agrees. "A feller what can lie as fast as you can hadn't ought to take that long."
"You're one of the kind what makes love by main strength and awkwardness, Ike. Your idea of a courtship is to take a damsel by the hair, drag her home, slam her into a corner, and then hammer her with a boot if she can't cook. You say I'd lie to her. You got to, Ike. No woman was ever told the truth when she was proposed to. She don't want the truth."
"I never beat up no woman, Magpie," I advises him. ”

“ There stands that feller Brand, with a grin on his face, and behind him is all the Piperock population that can crowd in. The lady is standing there against the wall, and all to once she drops her hand.
Bang. This Brand person's gun comes up and explodes, and the lady falls on her face. Magpie moves some quick. He flops out of that cellar, whirls on the crowd with a gun in each hand.
"You danged coward!" he yelps at Brand. "Shoot a defenseless woman, will yuh! Drop your guns!"
Every gun in sight hit the ground, and the lady staggers to her feet. ”

“ She don't need to live alone, Ike. Reckon I ain't beyond matrimonial redemption myself. What do yuh think?"
"If yuh don't like the way I cook coffee, Magpie, you can cook it yourself. And as far as matrimony and you are concerned, you'd be like a three-legged turtle trying to catch a scared wolf. There ain't nothing about you to catch the female fancy.
"In the first place, you're too long. No woman wants to look up a lodge-pole all her life. An occasional glance at your face ain't going to hurt nobody, but as a steady diet—no!" ”

“ I replies. “I reckon he’s forgot yuh already, ma’am. I quit him today, and I’m glad of it. I’m of age and fancy free, ma’am, I know I ain’t much to look at. I’m a regular old pelican, and I ain’t so pure as snow, but I’m getting better—thank yuh. When a woman comes into a man’s life it sure cleans house with him. The minute I sees your face I says to myself: ‘There she is, Ike. There’s the one woman——’”
We hears the rattle of a bronc’s hoofs and then—
“Whoa!”
I hops to the window and sees Magpie Simpkins, and then I ducks and yelps:
“Where can I hide? ”

“ You thinks just because you’re a sheriff you’re better than most folks. You didn’t grab any honors when you beat ‘Shep’ Allen for sheriff. He’s blind in one eye and string-halted in both legs. Just let me whisper something to you, Magpie: if you don’t grab some of these cow thieves——”
“Ike, you can desist. I’m doing all that a mortal man can do. If I had a deputy that was worth a cuss I’d——” ”

“ Zeb looks just like you’d bet he would after hearing his name, but no name on earth could give an impression of Scenery. When I look at him I think thusly:
“The person what built you, Scenery, must ’a’ run mighty short of material. They looks yuh over and says—‘It ain’t much of a man, but I’ll put a squeak in it so growed-up folks won’t step on it accidental-like.’”
They looks up at us as we rides in. Zeb almost unjoins his neck trying to expectorate across the street, crosses his legs and squints—
“Any news, Magpie?” ”

“ A man’s a sucker to ask questions of folks he knows can’t answer ’em.”
He uncoils from his chair, slides his gun around to the front and faces me.
“Ike, I got a question to ask you. Were you——”
Just then the door bangs open, and in comes Art Miller, all out of wind. He flops in a chair and pants:
“I—I told yuh! The—uh—uh—stage was huh-held up. About fuf-five miles down the road. Took all I had—dang the luck!”
“Mail, too?” I asks, and he nods. “Everything, I told yuh!”
“Well, well!” says I. “That must ’a’ been Kid Corey or Blazer Bailey. Worthy of your steel. Magpie.” ”

“ Don’t let me hurry yuh. I’ll go away so yuh can oil your boots and shave. Haste makes waste, Magpie.”
I goes up-town, and she’s boiling. They’re organizing a posse to work independent of the sheriff’s office, but I don’t join. I got sweeter things to think of than killing or incarcerating my feller men. The little feller without no pants on, carrying a bow and arrer seems to beckon me.
I forks my bronc and rides north, lingering along, building air-castles and so forth. My bronc ain’t none too energetic, and we consumes plenty of time. ”

“ I been telling everybody that we ain’t got no protection around here. Whole sheriff’s office couldn’t find a ace in a new pack of cards. Ain’t yuh going to do nothing?”
“I know something I’d like to do,” states Magpie, looking down at Scenery. “You keep your squeak in your chest and let Zeb tells us about it. What happened, Zeb?”
“While you fellers are picking flowers over in the hills a feller rides into town, throws down on the cashier with a gun and lopes off with the treasure. He told the cashier to give you his regards. What yuh going to do, Magpie?” ”

“ You get too cocky, old-timer, and I'll quit or take a vacation. Sabe?"
"Don't fly off the handle, Ike," he advises. "Nobody ever said yuh couldn't have no leisure time. You hops off half-cocked. Also you're contrary. Did yuh ever hear about the dog what got in the manger? He couldn't eat the hay, and he wouldn't let the bronc eat it."
"If you figures yourself as the bronc in that moral, Magpie, you lose. Your ears are too long, old-timer. Where do yuh get the idea that I can't get the lady? I made a living before I met you. ”

“ He was wise to Blazer, but not to the Kid. I reckon the money is in that box in the cellar, ain’t it, Kid?”
“There ain’t no use lying about it—it is,” he states.
“What I’d like to know is this,” states Ricky Henderson, “who was we shooting at? Was it Blazer or the Kid?” ”

“ He pulls out a couple of photygrafts and hands 'em to me.
"Look at them and see if yuh recognize either one," says he.
There's something familiar about one of them but the other one is a complete stranger. I can't place the other one, but there's a trace some place.
"That's 'Kid' Corey," says he. "This other one is 'Blazer' Bailey. They're a clever pair. Artists in the hold-up line. I'm a Federal officer. They been grabbing off a lot of registered mail lately, and the last stunt they pulls off was over on the main line. ”

“ I'm glad that folks can't hold me responsible for you."
Him and Zeb ambles off up-town, and we goes inside.
"There ain't no joy in being a sheriff!" yelps Magpie, throwing his boots over in the corner. "Your duty sort of keeps yuh from pulling a gun and acting free-like. I'm going out tomorrow and get that bad, bad-man, Ike. ”

“ They smokes me up and chases me here.”
“Save me!” yelps the lady, sprawling on the bunk. “I’m sick as ——!”
Such language makes me glance up, but I glues my eyes back to that crack again, where I got some chinking pushed out. ”