Adventure Magazine Cover — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

92 “Wish I had a drink.” Hale started to lower him back to the ground but was sharply commanded: “No! Wait!” This time he worked rapidly and skil- fully; and Hale perceived he was drawing a map of some mountains south of the Payette river. As the pencil filled in the paper Hale recognized the country. “Where I marked G means Gulch,” feebly explained the miner. “Enter from the east. Mouth hid by landslide. Narrow opening along side of high cliff. Grapevines. Place looks narrer. Plenty room. My wickyup’s there. Never build fire ’cept at night and in my fire-hole. Overhanging cliff going to bust loose some day. Never enter or quit only at night and when you know you ain’t trailed. Do as Ive done and all can’t find you.” Hale laid him back and groaned: “God! To know who did it!” The mare squealed and advanced to- ward the fire. With a sharp intake of breath Hale lifted his head and stared at the white star on the black, glossy coat. He believed he thoroughly understood all _that had happened. He had been followed from Boise City. When he broke the thicket and into the road in search of Tom’s horse he had been seen by his pursuers and recognized. They were not on the stage-coach but were mounted. It was one of their animals he had heard,and had sup- posed it was Tom’s horse. They had dis- Adventure mounted and had followed him back to- ward the camp. While he was at the creek. they had crept up and had seen the man before the fire. Near by they had seen the mare with the white star. Pinaquana’s presence had identified the muffled figure as her owner. They had fired the two shots at what they supposed to be Shoshoni Hale, and believing they had killed their man they had fled. “Man! Man!” sobbed Hale, bending over his new friend. “Tom, man! They took you for me. I brought death to you.” “Good joke on’em. They held you up for me. Find ’em sometime—gunway with you.” His head rolled to one side and he began breathing in a stertorous manner. Hale ran to the creck and brought water, but Lucky Tom of Lost Gulch had taken his last drink. And he passed out with a whimsical smile on his lips, as if his last thoughts had been of amusement at the rare joke the murder- ers had played on themselves by killing the wrong man. Hale covered the still form with blankets and picked up the two sheets of paper. It was Lucky Tom’s dying wish that he profit by the mine. The map told him how to find it. The writing deeply affected him as he read: This paper shows i give my mine in lucky gulh to shoshon hale my only frend i give him paper showin how to find it 2 strangers shot me ir the back whil hale was huntin for my hoss at the crick. lucky Tom. GOMIIGOOO S C@ iin