Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1916 - Feb 1917)

The Quitter 55 story of the holdup; and the sheriff, keenly alert where lawbreaking was concerned, made the wires hot sending Jack's description of the desperadoes to neighboring stations. "That Glad girl— she's still here?" asked Happy Jack. "Sure is, son!" answered Bill. "And here to stay ! Go up an' say howdy ; she won't eat yuh." "Reckon I will." Slowly he walked to the little shack that snuggled in the sheltering edge cf a group of jack pine topping a grassy knoll now gay with wild flowers — the shack that he had once called home. Through the open door he saw her ; a fair, smiling nymph of the lamps — three lamps, to be exact, whose chimneys she was polishing to a brilliancy that Jack had never believed possible. Bits of song drifted out to him ; familiar things that aforetime would have lured him to join his deep tones with hers, but now he was stricken dumb with admiration and wonder. Something new and strange tugged at his heartstrings. Perhaps he would have turned about and gone away without a word, but Glad, lifting her eyes, saw him standing in the doorway. "Howdy, stranger," she said easily. "How," he returned, and then, after a pause : "I'm Happy Jack, the man what " "Happy Jack !" She ran out to him. "Oh, I have wanted to see you — and thank you." Gravely he took the small hand she extended ; took it gingerly, though the little fingers squeezed into his palm with a pressure that disturbed him more than anything had ever done. "You don't look a bit like what I pictured you," she told him. "I expected to see a man all fun and laughter. Instead of that, you look to me very serious-minded." "I am some clown, miss — on occasion. But a clown is just a fool. That's what I've been — a plain fool. I — I ran away from " "Yes, I heard you were a quitter." The word stung him. He flushed. "No man ever called me that an' got away with it. But I reckon you can name me what you like an' I'll stand for it. How are yuh makin' out?" "Splendidly. I didn't have a very pleasant time in Gold City, and this is like its name — paradise." "The boys treat you well?" "Indeed, yes! They're just like big brothers " She broke off short, as her eyes roved down the winding road, along which three men were advancing at a rapid pace. Happy saw her cheeks grow pale. Her hands were trembling. "That man !" he heard her mutter, then she fled from him into the cabin and shut the door. Happy Jack stood dazed for a moment, and then whirled about. The three men approached. One of them was Big Bill McFarland, the sheriff ; the second was W. S. Willet, the third was Peter Condon, Willet's henchman. "The man we are looking for!" shouted Willet, and broke into a run. Jack looked more amazed than ever when Willet demanded his arrest. "What have I done now ?" he asked patiently. "Done ! You are a scoundrel !" cried Willet. He stuck a hand into his pocket and brought out a paper. "Here's your signature, isn't it? It's a receipt for good money I paid you for a mine that you don't own !" Happy Jack brushed a hand across his forehead. "That's so/' he said musingly. "I remember signin' over to you my claim. I had forgot that I'd given it to — somebody else." "He admits it!" Willet's voice rose to a scream. "I come up here to take formal possession, and they tell me nothing doing, that you transferred the claim to " "Never mind who I transferred it