Adventure Magazine Cover — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

The Torch-Bearers was shut off completely. Thus, elimination told me it must be a roaring blaze in a fire- place, and that the opening and closing of a door had permitted the stabbing rays to escape. That no windows glowed with rosy light could be explained by heavy curtains, the occupants wishing to escape attention. The country was wild and lonely and there would be.but few travelers abroad, and few of these bent on legitimate errands. I could appreciate how women-folks, with theiy men off to fight with Marion, would feel unsafe and would guard against moles- tation. I dismounted and proceeded care- _ fully and at last caught a faint murmur of voices. A few rods deeper into the cypress grove and I was making out a substantial manor house. The absence of outbuildings testi- fied to the torch of the vandal. As I grew more accustomed to the darkness I saw the structure was imposing, running up two full stories, with four huge pillars gracing the entrance. Disliking to alarm women, if they be there alone, yet trusting my being alone would allay their fears, I threw the reins over a_ stone hitching-post and mounted to the deep veranda. The déor was thick and the sound of voices told me nothing. I lifted the knocker, and as it fell with a dull, booming sound there was abso- lute quiet within. My horse whinnied, and I mechanically began swinging my head about only to have the muzzle of a pistol roughly clapped against my jaw and to stay my investigation. A moment later the door flew open and in the flood of light I beheld three men, each aiming pistols. Back of them were grouped fifteen or twenty rough-looking fellows. “Git in. there!’’ commanded the man holding the pistol against my head. . The trio on the threshold fell back and I followed them inside. When the pistol was removed from my head one of the three stepped by me and closed the door and shot the bolt. ‘““Welcome!”’ boomed an ironical voice.. I was standing in a spacious hall and directly opposite the fireplace. Between me and that was a long table covered with jugs, bottles and decanters. Behind this and on either side of the fireplace were the men, grinning in ferocious merriment as my questioning gaze wandered about. The one assuming the duties of host was perched on 81 one end of the long table, seated with one leg doubled back beneath him, the toe of the other foot barely scraping the floor as he swung it back and forth. He was a short, squat-built fellow with curious corn-colored hair that stood out in all directions as if be- ing disordered by a stiff breeze. A broad livid scar, like a red ribbon, extending from ‘the tip of his chin to the top of his right ear, added to the eccentricity of his appearance. “I said ‘welcome.’ Has our fine gentle- man nothing to say?” he asked in a mocking voice. “Why, yes,” I replied, advancing to the table. ‘Tl say I’m most chilled by the night air and will twig a tickler of brandy with the company’s permission. Only it’s gloomy business drinking alone.” The man on the table clapped his hands and guffawed mightily. ‘—— your liver, but you talk like a man!” he ced. And he hopped to the floor and advanced toward me with brisk steps. “Drink by all means. Then tell us about yourself and why we are thus honored by your gracious presence.” I poured out a neat dram and tossed it off, and informed him— | ‘‘T travel on his Majesty’s business.” “And travel alone?” he curiously asked, his eyes of a light slate color, darting over me and taking in every detail of my apparel, and lingering on the several rings I wore, as well as the gold chain across my waistcoat. The truth was quite apparent to me now. These were neither Whigs nor Tories. “Not entirely alone,” I said, seating my- self beside him on the table. “Captain Harrison, detached by Major Wemyss, comes close behind me.”’ I could hear the men behind me stir un- easily at this bit of information. My in- terrogator straightened up and stared at me steadily. said: “I see. That is very interesting. Would it be bold in me to ask the captain’s bust- ness so far from the beaten road of the rebels?”’ His speech did not belie what I had heard of him. Born of good family, but thor- oughly bad from his earliest years of inde- pendence, ChaceGanner’s mocking ways of speech ran neck and neck with his ferocious brutality to the weak and defenseless. It was an evil nest I had stumbled into, and my cComichook His voice was almost gentle as he C©