Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

Li’l Son-of-a-Gun ‘“T haven’t got five hundred dollars on the ranch, much less five thousand,” said Barton. “I can get it in Rubio, I suppose, and get back before sunup.” Sandy was sitting on the office desk, musing. _ “Chimney Rock,’ he said. “TI knew they was some one with brains in that outfit. They ain’t a spear of coveh fo’ a mile either ways of it. No place between the Chim- ney an” the mountains fo’ anything bigger ’n a horn’ toad to squat. Hm-m——” He broke off, scratching his head perplex- edly. “T’ll get the money,” said Barton. “TI can drive down in three hours, raise it, get a fresh horse and come back with Redding. He’ll be in on the night train.” “Made up your mind to pay the ran- som?” asked Sandy. Barton, who had recovered much of his poise and decisive action, nodded. “T’ve got to trust them,” he said. “Bar- bara would never forgive me, or Redding, if I didn’t take the risk. Five thousand doesn’t mean much, Sandy, in a case like this.” “No objection: if I get it back—an’ the baby?” asked Sandy. Barton looked at him. The cowboy had lit a cigarette and was watching the smoke as he exhaled it. “‘They’s no moon tonight, is they?” asked Sandy. “Moon! I’d drive through pitch,” said _ Barton a trifle testily. ‘‘What’s the moon got to do with it? Of course I trust you, Sandy, but ‘I’d rather have the money paid, ten times over, than endanger the life of that baby.” : “You know me, Misteh Barton,” said Sandy, quietly walking over to his superin- tendent and facing him. “I ain’t goin’ to do nothin’ to gum up the cards in this game. The hand’s goin’ to be played out at Chim- ney Rock. If my scheme don’t work, I’ll know long befo’ mornin’, an’ you can go ahead with the deal. “You'll meet the posse on the way. Don’t tell the sheriff about the note from the Mexican unless you have to. Tell Sam to repoht to me. We’ve got to keep them an’ our boys away from Chimney Rock in any case. Long’s you’ve decided to pay the money you’ve got to have that neighbo’hood clear of any one ’cept yourself from the time ts light till they come fo’ the money. A a I aw et ae Eo DO a ee On Faget ee Oe ee - ack rn Sn rae cm a OS sere ge © 3 113 “Let’s get something to eat. We'll all need it. Then you hitch up an’ staht fo’ Rubio.” “My God, Sandy!” exclaimed Barton, grasping his foreman’s hand, his face very old in the afterglow despite the ruddy re- flection that poured in through the window. “It’s going to be hard to wait. But I prom- ised Barbara I’d pay the ransom. I couldn’t face her if—if——”’ “Neither could I,” answered Sandy. “T ain’t got all my plans figgehed out just yet, but I’ve got an idea. I don’t intend to let that li’l son-of-a-gun be kep’ away from his motheh more’n one night.” IV “A LITTLE after midnight strange ) sounds issued from the black gullet of the ravine that was the only en- trance to the roughly triangular, barren plain in the center of which was the weather- sculptured column of sandstone known as Chimney Rock. A scraping shuffle and the occasional tinkle of steel hoof upon flinty-. rock proclaimed the passage of horses through the draw. The stars glittered brightly in the rare air. The cliff walls were vaguely distin- guishable. Hugging close to the left-hand wall, three horsemen trotted briskly along until they had reached midway of that side of the triangle, disappearing into a narrow cleft that led back some fifteen feet, then angled sharply for about the same distance. There was a short pause, then one horse, carrying double, emerged from the cliff. Be- hind it, attached to the saddle-horn by ropes, dragged a bundle of dried mesquite, obliterating all tracks as it swept the hard plain. The two riders were silent as they headed their mount for the dim loom of the sandstone column, a mile away. Arrived at it, the horse was led upon the ledge and close to the pillar. One man mounted, kneeling. then standing in the saddle. Clinging like a lizard to the crev- ices and bosses of the column, he disap- peared over the parapet at the summit. A lariat came flickering down, to which the second rider attached a rifle, which was drawn carefully up. The man at the base of Chimney Rock. remounted and rode back cliffward, the brush of dried mesquite still trailing behind the horse. & GoOmMmiGcdoo Com