Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

The Silent Captain didn’t you? Body, boots and britches! I reckon you’re jest plain dog-meat!” Minden’s face was white as his hand slipped to his forty-five. “That'll be all from you! here!” “Take yer hand off that gun! off! Don’t you try to draw on me! plug you before you move!” ‘Hey!’ yelled Gennerveeve, in Age “Shut up!” snapped Curry. The trembling hostess leaped to the cradle, grabbed her baby, and crouched down behind the big stove, the only solid thing in the room. She didn’t know what was coming, but she believed in safety first. “Quit it!” she pleaded. “If you gotta fight, go outside!”’ “T don’t want to fight,” said Minden. “‘Not unless I have to. And then “Veh? Well, you'll either fight or make good!’ Curry’s voice suddenly exploded. “You got me into this, now git me out! You got me here! You started it! Now you run yawpin’ to Wilcox with yer tail be- tween yer legs! You started this—now finish it or [ll finish you!’’ “You burned my house!” accused Min- den. “T’ll burn yer hide, too!” “Veh? Try it!” “T’m li’ble to-unless you straighten out!” “Straighten, hey? What’s your proposi- tion? Say it quick!” “Get Wilcox. Smash him. Get him before he gits us!” “Us? Do you think I’m in with you?” “Vou ain’t got no choice. You been in since the first!’ “Well, I’m out! I ain’t a crook. I ain’t a rustler. I ain’t a house burner. I ain’t a murderer! I’m through with you— through long ago! You went your: own pace and now you'll keep it!” The two men were very close. Curry’s scornful passions were rising. Minden was white-faced but ready. Gennerveeve cow- ered behind the stove and began to whimper. . “Minden,” yelled Curry, meat! Dog-meat!”’ Get out of Take it Vl “you're dog- The fist of Minden lashed out wildly. He wanted to pulverize that tight, cynical face and crush it to bits. The blow struck Curry’s nose. It staggered him. His right hand went downward. Minden leaped. He grabbed Curry’s 43 wrist with both hands before that deadly gun could spring from its holster. He twisted the wrist savagely. With a yelp of pain and rage Curry let go of the-gun- butt. The thing clattered across the room. Now it was Curry’s turn. His left hand was free. He slipped it to Minden’s hip. Minden saw it just in time. The gun was jerked out of the holster, but he grabbed Curry’s wrist again with both hands. The gun-muzzle was shoved further away from Minden’s side. Curry’s face glistened with sweat as he strained with the one arm to offset the pressure of two. It couldn’t be done. Curry dropped the pistol and lashed out with his free hand. The crunch of the blow cracked through the room. Minden seemed indifferent to it. Then began a battle that ripped the in- sides of the little old adobe house to pieces, while the poor little Missouri girl cowered behind the stove with her baby. THE battlers had forgotten their guns now. It was fist, boot, tooth and nail. They kicked the table over with their whirling boots. They smashed cutlery and dishes. They rolled on the floor. They hammered, tore, gouged and bit. Their livid faces changed form under the battering but they fought on. Minden tried to reach one of the guns on the floor. He stretched an arm out. Curry bent it backward. Wild with pain, Minden gouged at his eyes. Curry freed the pin- ioned arm and snarled like a wounded Minden’s Half- animal, battering with his fists. fingers closed about his throat. throttled, Curry tried to draw back. They arose to their feet, struggling and snarling. They wrestled and panted. They slammed into the baby’s cot with } crash. Minden’s fingers held like steel. Curry’s fists worked furiously but the fingers held. The crib was shattered. Curry’s hand touched its heavy side-board, one inch thick. His frantic fingers ripped it away from the rest of the wood. He swung it viciously. The cruel edge of the board struck Minden’s head. Minden’s fingers relaxed. Curry struck again. And again. And again. It was slam, slam, slam, slam, slam. Minden subsided a little more with each ferocious blow. Curry arose to his knees and kept battering. He was wild, savage, frantic with fighting lust. cCoOniclboool C©