Hashknife walked out to his gray horse and swung into the saddle. He was just a trifle weary and he wanted to get back to town, but Moran called to him, hurrying down from the rear of the house.“How much do I owe you, Hartley?” he asked.“What for?” asked Hashknife blankly.“For what you’ve done. I realize it is more than I can ever pay you, but I—”“Then I’ll always have somethin’ comin’,” grinned Hashknife. “Forget it, Moran. Right now I’m goin’ to town and fold myself around some ham and eggs. And then I’ll have to tell Sleepy what he missed. So long!”He rode swiftly away, leaving Moran alone, check-book in hand. Mrs. Conley, Dawn and Pete came out on the porch, looking for Hashknife, but he was far down the road. Moran folded up his check-book and came back to the porch.“I can’t figure him out,” said Moran.“Pretty hard,” admitted Pete blankly. “He got me loose.”“He’s wonderful,” said Dawn.“Damn right!” said Mrs. Conley emphatically.Which was all right with Hashknife, as long as he didn’t hear what was said.Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 1, 1927 issue ofAdventuremagazine.
Hashknife walked out to his gray horse and swung into the saddle. He was just a trifle weary and he wanted to get back to town, but Moran called to him, hurrying down from the rear of the house.
“How much do I owe you, Hartley?” he asked.
“What for?” asked Hashknife blankly.
“For what you’ve done. I realize it is more than I can ever pay you, but I—”
“Then I’ll always have somethin’ comin’,” grinned Hashknife. “Forget it, Moran. Right now I’m goin’ to town and fold myself around some ham and eggs. And then I’ll have to tell Sleepy what he missed. So long!”
He rode swiftly away, leaving Moran alone, check-book in hand. Mrs. Conley, Dawn and Pete came out on the porch, looking for Hashknife, but he was far down the road. Moran folded up his check-book and came back to the porch.
“I can’t figure him out,” said Moran.
“Pretty hard,” admitted Pete blankly. “He got me loose.”
“He’s wonderful,” said Dawn.
“Damn right!” said Mrs. Conley emphatically.
Which was all right with Hashknife, as long as he didn’t hear what was said.
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 1, 1927 issue ofAdventuremagazine.
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 1, 1927 issue ofAdventuremagazine.