Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

The Road to El Dorado him, leaving Kitts and Laramie to follow. The five fugitives were racing their horses up the slope to find shelter in some cafion. Their flight fastened guilt upon them. When the small posse first appeared, they had left the walled wagons, crawled out of the inclosure on the back side and procured their horses from some adjacent pateh of grazing-ground. The man who declared that they had left two or three hours be- fore the Denver men’s arrival had lied, as their start consisted only of minutes. »4 AS THE four galloped after the yf runaways, Oakes and the others W behind the wagons climbed on to the walls to watch the chase. The Pit River Indian was affected most peculiarly by the pursuit. Screaming like a fiend, he climbed over the wall and brandished his bow and arrows wildly. Yet instead of following the horsemen he suddenly conceived a savage enmity toward the spectators on the wall. He turned about and would have discharged an arrow had not Oakes anticipated his homicidal de- sign by throwing down a revolver and top- ling him over. The pursuers glanced back at the sound of the shot, and surmised the nature of the tragedy on beholding the Indian’s prostrate form, while Oakes leaned forward ready for a second shot. “Killed his luck!’ Joe yelled to Reason. “Black-hearted cuss!’ cried Reason. ‘Told ye my snake medicine had blood on it. It’s got white blood on it, too.” Kitts now swept alongside of Joe and said: “They’re winding their nags on that slope. We’ll soon get them.” The level rays of the sun. illumined the quintet and glossed the gold in Shirley’s hair. The latter had dropped to the rear and kept turning his head to mark the progress of the chase. Joe squealed in delight on discovering that the man’s horse had gone lame. He had barely announced this much when Shirley halted, and, swinging about, lifted his heavy rifle to his shoulder and took deliberate aim. The four men in- stantly sent their horses apart, none know- ing which was the fellow’s target. To spoil Shirley’s aim Joe took a snap-shot at his horse. The horse went down but not before Shirley pulled trigger. With a grunt Laramie Pete turned half-way around in his saddle and dropped his rifle. 69 Kitts fired next, and Shirley toppled across his horse. The remaining four fugitives discharged a wild volley and dipped from sight over the top of a rolling hill. : ‘“‘Where’d he git ye, Pete?’ cried Joe, spurring to the trader’s side. “Sacrél N ame of the devil! He snapped my arm,’ gritted Laramie, already fash- ioning a sling out of a neckerchief with his free hand and teeth. ‘Upper bone broken. But let us ride on, my friend.” “Go back to the wagons. fix you up,’ commanded Kitts. Laramie swore in French, English and several Indian tongues and sent his horse after his friends. The four halted when they came to Red Shirley. Joe leaped to the ground, kicking the man’s gun away, and kneeled beside him to see how badly he was hurt. The former wagon-boss was breathing his last, yet his eyes glittered evilly as he stared up into the trapper’s face. “What made ye run? Do ye belong to Half-Mask’s gang?” asked Joe. “YT did belong,’ corrected Shirley in a whisper. “Jest j’ined. We run ’cause he told us to if any one come to find us.” “What does he look like?” demanded Joe. “Who is he?” cried Reason. The malevolence died from the man’s face, leaving it blank. The trapper be- lieved he was beyond any ability to identify the masked leader. Suddenly the mortally wounded man rallied and began mumbling: ‘None 0’ th’ fellers knew him out of his mask. Never see him except he had it on. Think he was some one at th’ wagons. Might ’a’ been any of ’em for all I know. That’s all. “We wanted easy gold. He promised it. JI might give a close guess who he is. Wait—wait a minute.” But they needs must wait through all eternity if they waited for Red Shirley to speak with earthly voice again. As the death-rattle sounded California Joe leaped to his feet and complained: “Two more inches 0’ life an’ we’d known what th’ poor cuss suspected. Now to catch some of ’em alive!”’ “Laramie can’t go with us,” Reason. ‘Look at him!” The trader’s face was of a ghastly pallor which even his naturally dark complexion and the heavy tan could not conceal. Oakes will remonstrated COmMicloooks (C@