Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

116 saw him an’ the kid. He heard that Pinto nicker—”’ Sandy looked reproachfully at Mormon and Sam—“‘an’ suspicioned some- thin’. But he didn’t see me.” “Why didn’t you plug him?” asked Sam. ‘An’ kill the kid? He was packin’ him. ‘The li’l son-of-a-gun was tryin’ fo’ a git- away on his own account.” He finished his cigarette in silence and sat in the shadow of the rocks, scratching his head in the hope of stimulating the thoughts within. “He might have recognized the neigh of that spavined, loud-mouthed cayuse,” he said slowly—“probably did. But he warn’t takin’ any chances. We've got ’em pock- eted. I don’t believe you can git down that cafion, the way it looks.” “No, sevor,” broke in Padilla. ‘You can not. The trail is gone. It is old. Once they thought to find quicksilver there. You say truly, they are in a pocket. So then —you let me go to them. I shall say it is all right. shail wait where the trail comes up here. Then He shrugged his shoulders. “Thet sounds reasonable, Sandy,” said Mormon. “Ef they started to make any breaks we could round ’em up easy enough. We got ‘em covered all the way, ain’t we?” “Sure,” said Sam. “Sounds Beod to me. Why not?” “Tt sounds all right,” agreed ‘Sandy. “But I shore hate to trust that greaser out of my sight.” The Mexican shrugged his bound shoul- ders once more. “The child will want its mother,” he sug- gested. “Maybe it is sick. Quien sabe? Only—” his eyelids narrowed—“I must have the money to take with me, or they will not come out.” Sandy shifted on his haunches to face Padilla. “Sam,” he said, “you snake oveh to the edge an’ git a bead on that cave. It’s right under a couple of screw - pines an’ some brush. Pritty hard to make out at first. If two of ’em comes out, git busy. Look out for the kid. ‘“‘Now then,” he said to Padilla, ‘“‘you tell me again just what yore scheme is.” The Mexican, forced to accept the steely challenge of Sandy’s eyes, spoke _hesi- tatingly. “It is simple, sevior. I go to the cave with We shall come out, and you. Adventure the money. Everything is bueno, muy bueno. We leave, as we hav’ plan, to take the child to some one, a woman, who will bring it to the ranch tomorrow. Only, you hide, an’ when we come—han’s up! It is easy, they can not get out of the cave Your amigo is there to watch.” Sandy, staring steadily at Padilla saw the pupils of his eyes dilate and contract in swift movement for the fraction of a sec- ond as he uttered the last sentence. “No!” cried Sandy, springing to his feet. ““Yo’re lyin’. I read it plain in yore eyes. They’s a trick somewheres. Git up! Stan’ up against the rock!” He stood in front of the crestfallen Pa- dilla, who tried to maintain his assurance with scant success, and, slipping one of his Colts from its holster, jabbed it into the Mexican’s stomach. Padilla shrank against the rock, turning his head to one side. “You look at me,’’ commanded Sandy, “or this is the end of you. They’s only one answer to this. They’s a way out of that cave.” The pupils of Padilla’s eyes oscillated de- . spite his effort to control them. “T thought so,” said Sandy, while Mor- mon looked on in astonishment. ‘An’ you wanted we should let you go in there with the money and tell ’em it was muy bueno? When a man double-crosses me, hombre,” he went on ominously, “he does it once. Sabe? Just once.” He thrust his face with its menacing eyes and set jaw close to the Mexican’s, upon whose gray forehead the sweat was break- ing in cold beads. “Now then,” he snapped, his words sounding like the cracks of a whip, ‘‘where’s that cave let-out?”’ “Don’t shoot, sefor,’”’ whined Padilla. “Por amor de Dios, don’t shoot.” ‘Stan’ up on yore laigs,”’ said Sandy. ain’t goin’ to shoot ye if I can use you.” “Madre de Dios!’ whimpered the Mexi- can, his knees trembling. “Talk fast an’ talk American!’’ command- ed Sandy, punctuating his sentences with jabs of the pistol. easy an’ I’m gettin’ nervous.” “The cave,” gasped Padilla, moistening ashen lips, “it open into the next cafion— to the north—beyond this one.’ “Ts that the only way out?’ demanded Sandy. a “This triggeh’s mighty - (€(0) 00/0) (@) cS (EO) m