Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

Powder Law to the spot designated by precedent for such a proceeding and alternately yanked and booted the man all the way to his horse, which the man managed to mount. | ‘“Vamoose!” snapped Blaze. The men rode away; one of them hugging a shattered right arm, and the other stand- ing high in his stirrups and trying to keep his frightened horse to a comfortable walk. Frenchy proceeded to shave a pipeful of. tobacco, and lighted it from the fire embers. He turned and looked at Blaze who was leaning against a tree, watching in the direction of the disappearing horsemen. “Blaze,™ Frenchy puffed furiously, “Blaze, Ym tink dem two feller get sore from us. You mak’ good shot for break hees arm: ~ Ee’ : “Good shot! Lucky shot,. Frenchy— lucky for him. I never shot at his arm. You had a lot of nerve to yank that other feller plumb off his horse.” ‘“Nerve—mee” Frenchy laughed heartily. “Why, Blaze, I’m so scare dat I’m forget my gun. Ho, ho, ho!” They both laughed. Frenchy had seen Blaze shoot the heads off sage-hens, and Blaze had seen Frenchy fighting with a knife against roaring pistols, but neither was seeking glory in the other’s eyes. “We'll move back a ways as soon as it gets dark,” stated Blaze. “This ain’t the _end of it, Frenchy. Maybe we better pack up and pull out.” “Non!” Frenchy shook his head vehe- mently. “I’m back up a little, but no pack de horse and run away. We got two rifle an’ two pistol more den we have biffore dey come. Ho, ho, ho!” Frenchy collected the four guns, which were loaded. ‘The rifles were Sharp’s, the ammunition of which fitted their rifles, but the two pistols would be useless to them after the rounds were fired, as they both used smaller caliber than those carried by Blaze and Frenchy. Blaze kept a close watch until dark and then they moved their blankets farther back from the creek after throwing more wood on the fire. But there was no further sign of Black Mora or his men that night. They were up at daylight. Blaze started to get breakfast, while Frenchy climbed up into the branches of a cottonwood where he perched like an owl with his rifle across his lap. mak’—— Blaze laughed at Frenchy, but Frenchy was serious. “Ym mak’ t’ink,” said Frenchy, ) “T’m He broke off, rose a little higher and swung the heavy rifle to his shoulder. A moment later the big rifle bellowed. Blaze sprang across the fire and picked up his rifle. “What yuh shootin’ at?” he demanded. Frenchy extracted the empty cartridge and blew into the breech of his rifle before replying. ‘De sonn of a gonn go creep, creep along to git behin’ de big rock. Ho, ho, ho! I’m push de dirt in his face. He turn over Kk” Frenchy, threw up his rifle and fired as it leveled. He waved the cloud of smoke away with a sweep of his hand. “Dat’s anodder one, Blaze. I miss him pretty close, I tell you dat. Whoa!” Frenchy shifted excitedly. “Blaze, you pack de cayuse quick! I’m mak’ t’ink dat sonn of a gonn has de army work for him. I hol’ dem off, I tell you.” Bullets began to whiz through the foliage and thump into the tree trunks. Blaze hurriedly packed the horse and then threw on the two saddles, while Frenchy swore alternately in English and French and punc- tuated his oaths with lead from his old Sharps. “All set, Frenchy,” called Blaze, swing- ing into his saddle. Frenchy fired again and swung down to the ground. “Go straight down dis side,” ordered Frenchy. ‘I’m have dem stopped.” They rode away as swiftly as possible, keeping in the willows. For a while it looked as if they had thrown off the attack- ers, but as soon as they crossed the creek and struck into more open country they found that there was a strong possibility of more trouble. One bunch of horsemen were behind them, while another bunch had circled into the hills to head them off. They pulled up and considered the matter. A long-range bullet dusted the ground at their horses’ feet, fired from the bunch in the hills. They could see the riders,across the creek as they checked up at the edge of the stream. “Wat we do now—fight?” asked Frenchy. 147 Blaze considered. The horsemen in the » COmicloooks (C@