Adventure Magazine Cover — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

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Here a big bonfire was burning, and by its light he examined the paper he had taken from the bogus sergeant. The _ first glance told him it was a list of the English forces, together with the details of their dis- tribution. Hurrying to the friendly lieutenant, he handed over the paper and explained: “Had a fight with a man who calls himself Sergeant Enoch Champers, Fiftieth Regiment, Jersey Blues. He is a French spy. Took the paper from him. He escaped. Is it the missing paper?”’ “____! It’s the full list! I must report this and send out an — for the spy! Wait for me.” Impatiently the’ ranger waited while the lieu- tenant repaired to the inner room. In a few moments he came out, saying: “Chief isn’t in. I must find him. His orderly says this is a copy of the stolen paper. Looks The original is still missing.” “Then I’m off after the original,” cried Willis, bounding away. He hoped to overtake the girl as she would surely travel north; and he had no desire to be detained in town for several days to be officially cross-examined. He was wrathfully picturing the girl and man fleeing through the forests together when he was brought to his senses by the loud com- At first he was unable to comprehend the challenge, so deeply were his thoughts con- centrated on the girl. Then the darkness was lighted by the flare of a pine torch and he found himself surrounded by soldiers. He rapidly gave his name and produced his pass. “Rogers’ Rangers are doing keen work,” enviously remarked one of the guards. ‘I’ve Pate you. They say you were with Brad- “Tt so happened. Who else has passed here within the last hour?” “‘Another, a ranger, a young fellow. You'll probably overtake: him, as he will camp along the river.” “He had apass?” , “Not a written one. But Sergeant Enoch Champers, of the Jersey Blues, spoke for him. Of course a pass is only a form where those serving the king are concerned.” “You have done well, young man,” bitterly upbraided Willis. ‘You have let two spies get by right under your nose. Champers is a French spy, and he carries in- formation to the French which will be disastrous to the colonies.” “Oh, my ——! But how was I to know?” groaned the corporal in charge of the guard. Your Sergeant — Adventure Willis remembered his own friendly chat with the plausible Champers and his own lack of suspicion. “He has fooled better men than you. It isn’t for me to blame you,” he said. ‘Curse his pelt!’ moaned the corporal. “Just = him come again! Who’s the young rip with im?” “That I can’t tell you,” hastily answered Willis. “‘But I shall try to find out. Send a message to headquarters that the spy has aos through the ‘lines and that I am after CHAPTER VIII THE LITTLE MAN IN BLACK ‘TBE flight of Rogers and Putnam down the lake was followed by no untoward inci- dents. ‘There was no time, so far as they could perceive, that any of the hostile Indians were on their trail. They traveled parallel to the western shore until near North West Bay, when they struck across to the head of the little inlet. There Rogers uncovered a birch canoe in the brush, kept concealed for such emergencies. He purposed to travel direct to Fort William Henry with his news. Putnam, who had in- tended to accompany him, now found his pref- erence was to continue along the woods trail on the chance of finding signs ‘of some of the enemy’s scouts. “Tt don’t take more’n one to get the infor- mation into General Winslow,” he remarked. “T’ll meet you at the fort. aight as well make a clean job of it.’ Rogers readily acquiesced, and after he had set out, his graceful craft taking the waters of the lake at a rare pace under his powerful strokes, the Connecticut man swung back to the trail again. For ten miles he advanced slowly and carefully, and by the time he was abreast of Sloop Island he was satisfied that none of the Canadians or Montcalm’s Indians was near the southern end of the lake. Throwing off his concern, he shifted his gait to a brisk trot, when a pistol-shot at one side of the trail brought his attention on edge.. Leav- ing the trail, he crept through the woods until the sound of voices guided him to a tiny open- ing. He beheld a startling spectacle. An officer wearing the uniform of the froupes de terre was leaning against a tree, the white shoulder of his coat showing a dark stain where he had been wounded. Facing him were two of Rogers’ Rangers, one of them holding a long pistol, the other aiming a nifle. As Putnam gained a position behind the officer the latter angrily demanded in excellent English: “You villains! Why did you shoot me? I had surrendered.” COMmMIGoOoL< (E@