Adventure Magazine Cover — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

+ >< a 3 ge as .- ~ —s hi Vy “7 »y F. ae L* 7 ( ‘a ee *,.* >)" Sua SAS = ences sods A - triumph as the man in the black mask _ lurched forward in his saddle. ‘Then his fighting spirit became paralyzed Ss as he recognized one of the two horsemen One sat erect, bareheaded, The nearest him. with his arms pinioned at his side. other, protected by the prisoner and his horse, rode low with a hand guiding the prisoner’s steed. “Oh, Lord! They’ve got Joe Peace!’ gasped Uncle Dick ceasing his fire so as not to hit his young friend. Peace now saw him and cried out: ~ “Uncle Dick! Uncle Dick! They’ve got me! Look out for Keene!”’ Before he could reply to the despairing _. ~— call, Yellow Bear, at the head of his Arapa- hoes, tore in close to the side of the cliff and presented a barrier between the bandits and to your man. the shack. The fleeing horsemen at once swerved toward the opposite side of the cafon. From out of the darkness came a thin, strident voice-encouraging: “They’re only Indians, boys. Hang on The trail is clear ahead.” Uncle Dick rubbed his eyes to make sure he was not dreaming as the chase and pur- suit returned to the night. Finally he exclaimed— “me! They’ve got Joe!” Only one of the Indians remained with him. This was Crooked Arm, who proudly _ displayed a red furrow across his chest. “T have won a war-name,” he exulted. “The white men run. We will not take the medicine-woman up the cliff.” “They’ve snagged Joey Peace!” mumbled Uncle Dick. ‘H got into thecafion during the first of the fighting, and they’ ve gone - and snagged him lickety-split!” — “They will not come back! The Arapa- hoes are great warriors!”’ chanted Crooked Arm. “Hush that chatter or I’ll lambast you!” growled Uncle Dick. “I’ve got trouble enough without you chipping in. Oh Lord! I dasn’t look! If she should bk——” He couldn’t finish it. His hands shook so he could not remove the bar and Crooked Arm did it for him. As the door swung open the light from the camp-fire fed into the small room. The girl was stretched out on the floor. Witha lowsob of anguish Uncle Dick dropped beside her, believing _ her dead from a chance bullet. Then he shouted joyously as he failed to find any % pees ; Knocking the curious ee ram aside he rushed to Detel and pawed him over until he located a flask of whisky. Return- ing to the girl he forced a mouthful of the burning liquor through her clenched teeth, and she rewarded him by choking and coughing spasmodically and at last opened her eyes. “Tt’s Uncle Dick, honey,” he soothed as she stared wildly up into his face. Her fear vanished and she faintly said: “Of course—Uncle Dick—I’m Isobel Deland of Santa Fé. My uncle was taking me East. I saw——”. She put her hands to her face and began to weep. “That’s right. encouraged in a jerky voice. it myself when I’m upset.”’ “But where are they?” she whispered, her - eyes distending with terror. “That man in the mask—who talks like a woman. I’m afraid of him worse than I am of death —a million deaths. If you could hear him laugh! He isn’t human!” He helped her to her feet, soothtiee “They’re gone. If they manage to. drive the Injuns back we’ll hear the shooting and we’ll go up the cliff. The road-agents don’t know anything about the path, and two minutes’ start is as good as a week, but I don’t reckon they’ll try to get back. . They’ve got enough of fighting, thanks to my friends, the Arapahoes. I winged their boss, the cuss that gives you the shivers, — but not enough to stop his yapping. If I’d killed him it would have been the best job I ever done.” “Tf you had seen and heard what I have!”’ she sobbed, leaning against him for support. He sought to comfort her by remind- ing— “Vet some good came of it, so long as it made you remember things.” “T remember all,’’ she. sadly answered. “T’ll tell you about it some time. I’m too ashamed to tell it now.” ‘“ReckonI kno ,”’ he murmured, stroking her disheveled hair. ‘‘Your uncle was a weak man rather thana bad man. He was led into it. I was with him when he died. Yes, my dear, he’s dead—died happy to know you was with me. I was behind the shack when that brute Chuckle-Luck teased you to tell about the gold. I was there when Ralph asked you if you remembered Have a good cry,” he “Always do _ wound and pheewves) ‘that aes still eae. itoge ”? a. , - ? _ “s 3 ~ =" ince - oS = pe a er -~ Sere Cee add a et ea —= ~e = oe . Ser alt - 1 Pe f. Pe ae, we rok ee, Se <2. oma seo ed —_— ™. > ~ ~ iP apinad ae tae ‘e % — Fe” ot = indy, ~ slg 5S. See, x ~. inal * ae)