Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 152: what you’re looking at

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

150 the wall. She threw aside a pile of old sacks and skins and lifted a trap-door. “Cellar?” queried Blaze. “You come,” ordered the squaw, and started down a short ladder. BLAZE and Frenchy each took a last look from the windows and, as there was no sign of the besiegers, shes followed the squaw. Instead of a cellar they found a narrow low tunnel shored up with small timbers. It was pitch dark and the tunnel was barely wide enough for them to squeeze through; but they followed in single-file behind the fat squaw. It seemed as if they had gone a mile, when the squaw stopped and straightened up. Blaze reached out his hand and felt the rungs of a pole ladder, up which the squaw had started. Came the creak of boards and the tunnel was flooded with light, as the squaw lifted another trap-door letting them into a small log-room. The open door gave them a view of part of the house they had just left. “This is where them fellers wanted to get,” whispered Blaze understandingly. ‘“‘No wonder they took a chance. They could go through the tunnel, open the trap under that old bunk and nail us both.” “Sure t’ing,” nodded Frenchy. ‘Gran’ scheme, Blaze. Look at de house burn.” The ranch-house was composed of three large roorms, and the fire had been started in the north end. Black Mora had taken no chances in trying to smash the connect- ing door, after seeing the defenders’ shoot- ing ability; so he decided ‘on the Indian method of routing them out. Blaze and Frenchy crouched near the door, watching the flames eat into the sea- soned logs. One end of the house was burn- ing fiercely, and it was only a question of a short time until the whole building would be in flames. The squaw sat down in a corner, stolidly watching the fire as if having no interest in it whatever. Blaze and Frenchy knew that at least six rifles covered the front and rear doors of the ranch-house, and were also fairly sure that the men behind those rifles believed that their quarry must soon break for liberty. Blaze examined the walls of their room, but there was no exit except the half-open door. ‘The squaw looked at Blaze and a Adventure seemed to understand what he was looking for. Flames were soaring from the ranch- house. Came the shrill nicker of a horse; a man’s voice cried an order, but above it all came the splintering crash as the pole and mud roof of one end of the ranch-house collapsed. The squaw got to her feet and backed into a corner. The two men watched her as she fumbled along the chinking between two logs. Suddenly she shoved with her shoul- der, and a section composed of two logs swung outward. The aperture was large enough to allow a man to pass through and through it they could see their three horses near the barn, watching the fire. The logs had been cut in such a way and so hinged that they could only be opened from the inside. Evidently Black Mora had more need of an exit than an inlet. “You go,” urged the squaw. Bree Se look fire.” Blaze held out his hand to her, birt she seemed ignorant of a hand- shake. He slipped a large opal ring from his finger and handed it to her. She understood this and smiled happily. It was Blaze Carlin’s mas- cot, but he gave it willingly. He and Frenchy slipped out the aperture and the logs closed behind them. By going straight to their horses they could keep the small cabin between them and Mora’s men, unless the men had moved lately. Ducking low, they raced for the horses, but no shot followed them. It was but a moment’s work to lead their horses around the corner of the barn and there they found a huddled group of saddle- horses, snorting from fright of the fire. Frenchy chortled gleefully and wanted to cut the saddle-cinches, but Blaze stopped him. He was not afraid of Mora’s men catching him once they got away and there was a chance that the gang might believe that they perished.in the flames. Frenchy grumbled at losing the chance of spoiling all possibility of pursuit, but spurred out of the clearing, riding swiftly down the creek, around the first curve and into the hills, while behind them a black cloud of smoke pillared into the sky. “Ho, ho, ho!’ Frenchy threw back his head and whooped gleefully. “Nobody she’s allow on Mora’s lan’, eh? Blaze, you ever hear *bout Nero?” Blaze shook his head. ‘‘She’s lak’ to be de boss, too,” explained . COmiCMOooks (C@