Adventure Magazine Cover — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

a complefé Noveletié by E:S:Pladwell Author of ‘Santa Claus from Hades,’ ‘‘His Word of Honor,” etc. longed to a man of forty. Slack- jawed, small-mouthed, with black hair matted over a low forehead and eyes set close together, he looked just what he was—a dangerous little pest with the courage of gi mouse, the craft of a weasel and the malice of a tarantula. He lay in the shade of a mesquite-bush above a dirty little water-hole that shim- mered in a bow! of yellow sand. Two heavy pistols dangled from his hips. Jn his belt were cartridges innumerable. He lay still, as he had lain for two hours. He even for- bore to smoke. He had no particular plans in mind. He never had. He had merely stumbled across a camp at a water-hole. Being involved in one of the country’s usual feuds, he was waiting to see who owned the camp.’ The wrong party could be out of luck. An innocent person might live. The camp belongings were not worth much anyhow. The sound of approaching men came to the young killer’s quick ears. Mesquite- bushes on the other side of the spring parted. He swung the muzzle of his six-shooter for- ward stealthily, sighting through a clump of underbrush. The figures of two good-sized men in blue overalls and sweaty checked shirts labored into view and looked relieved at sight of their little camp. The younger man was ie E WAS nineteen years old, but 2 his worldly face might have be- Copyright, 1971, by The Ridzway Company in the United States and Great Britain. supporting the older. The latter, a sandy- bearded citizen of about forty-five whose face was wrinkled from years of facing sun and wind, favored his left foot while walk- ing. His face registered dull pain. “That'll be about’the last time I’ll ever git hi-larious about anything,” he grunted as he made for his blankets among the lit- tered papers and tin cans near the water- hole. “Here after fifteen years I’ve stum- bled on the gosh-wallopin’est vein of gold- bearin’ rock in all Oy and what hap- pens? I bust my ankle?” “Tt may not be that bad,” said the other. But the older man shook a lugubrious head. ‘“T shouldn’t have felt so good,” he in- sisted as he slumped down and gingerly took a top-boot from an enlarged foot. “TI might have known somethin’ would happen. The minute I started dancin’ around lke a durned undignified idjut somethin’ warned me to go slow; but I wouldn’t listen. I had to cavort around and vell like a fool Injun till I slipped off’n that rock.” 4 ‘Well, the mine was worth it,” declared the other. But the senior partner was determined to atone for his optimism. ‘‘We lost a durned good burro,” he re- minded the other dolefully. The other scooped a pan of water from the spring. “That’s all right. We named the claim All rights reserved, 3 CO MICLOOOKS