Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

The Gold Cure Instantly the doctor recovered his poise. With a thin smile, he strode over to the shelf, and reached for the vial. “No, no! Gimme it! I’m goin’ to take it meself. I know how! Quick! I’m feel- in’ bad!” McWhinnie handed him vial and hypo- dermic, expecting the sot to roll up his sleeve and inject the Cure. But Boozy with a screech, grabbed both vial and syringe and ran out into the night. The doctor stared after him, shaking his head. “The puir deil! He’s gane daft wi’ deleerium treemens!”’ Z| FOX KELLY knew better than to take another man’s word. Early on the fourth morning after his talk with Boozy, he sat at the mouth of the old King mine, gleefully watching a chunky native clear away the accumulation of boulders which had slid down and com- pletely closed the tunnel. He was very glad all that rock was there. It was a nuisance to wait till it was re- moved; but its presence proved that no one had entered the mine in years. If Kelly could have walked straight into the tunnel, he would have suspected anything he might find there. He had been gulled into buying ‘‘salted’’ mines before, whose real worth- lessness had been concealed by clever dosing with gold brought from richer deposits. But this mine could not have been tam- pered with. If Boozy, or McWhinnie, had taken the trouble to remove the rocks, “salt” the vein, and replace them again, the débris would have looked fresh. Fresh it decidedly was not. Everywhere were signs—proofs—of long abandonment. The stones, piled up in confusion, were half-buried in sand, and covered with spider- webs. It was quite plain that generations of spiders had labored here, undisturbed by human approach, to spin those hundreds of dirty gossamers that plastered the rocks and lurked in every cranny. Natividad Flores, the half-wit mozo intro- duced by: Boozy, said that this slide had filled the mouth the vear that work on the mine had stopped. Kelly knew better than to doubt it. Even the cleverest expert may be deceived by a cunningly salted mine; but no “‘salter’’ that ever lived could spin webs. Now, if only the vein was there It would be a killing, and McWhinnie —— 109 would be skinned so close he would forget his earlier trimming. A low whirring sounded behind the rocks. Natividad was working fast, and they would soon be through. Kelly started at the noise, strode to the pile, pulled a rock from the top, and looked in. Almost in- stantly he fell back, forced away by a rush of bats through the hole. . “Gosh! They’re anxious to get out!’ he muttered. ‘“They’ve been in there so long they’re hungry enough to face daylight. That’s proof enough no one has been here lately. I'll find it just as King’s man left i He could wait no longer. Gripped by the gold-lust, he drove Natividad to clear away just enough more of the rubbish to let them crawl in over the top. That was better, anyway; when he left, Natividad could close the hole again, and McWhinnie would never suspect their visit. Lighting candles, they crawled into the dark, damp tunnel. The faint light showed a mass of old, moldy timbers, partly rotted, and in places falling at a touch. Kelly’s caution was still alive, in spite of greed. He spoke Spanish, though very badly. Cunningly he questioned the half- wit; but Flores seemed too dull to under- stand. ‘Where is the place they filled up?” he asked. ‘$7, senor; they filled it.”’ “Ves, yes! But where? fill the hole in the wall?” “But yes, sevor.’ ‘The other tunnel!’’ Kelly yelled; In angry Spanish. ‘Otro taladrof! Where did they fill it?”’ “Si, senor, they filled it!” “Great Scott!’ wailed Kelly. “How in blazes can I make him understand?” “Better spik Englis, sefor,” grinned Natividad. ‘TI can spik.” “Damn Boozy! He wouldn’t tell me that for a dollar!” “Si, senor! I take ze dollar!” “Take it, then! | Where’—he spoke clearly and slowly— ‘‘Where—is—the— vein—they—lost?”’ Instantly he was rewarded. Natividad stepped forward to a turn in the tunnel, and put his hand on a second mass of timbers. “Here, senor! Here ze hombre lose ze vein. Timber it oop!” Where did they DOOLK (C@