Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 173: what you’re looking at

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

Powder Law neck. He had been bruised about the head, but his eyes were open. Blaze cut his bonds and ripped away the gag. For a moment Delaney was unable to move, but he struggled to a sitting position as the match flared out. “Where are the women?” asked Blaze softly. Delaney seemed unable to talk and when he did regain speech it was barely a weak whisper. — “Gone. They stole them. Said they’d hang me as soon as they got you, Carlin.” “Shake yourself,” ordered Blaze. ‘“‘Where have the women gone? Why did Mora’s gang come here?”’ “Mrs. Wheeler,’ whispered Delaney. “Black Mora wanted her. Those were Mora’s men in the store when she came there. She knew it was Mora’s gang that killed Jack. Mora killed him to get her. He knew she’d tell me who got Jack and Mora was afraid. “YT heard him send the message to you. Mora’s face is cut to ribbons, where Sales beat him. He said he was going to hang us both to the same limb.” “He’s got your wife, ain’t he?” asked Blaze. ‘“‘We were all here when they broke in,” whispered Delaney. ‘‘Mora grabbed Mrs. Wheeler.” Delaney got to his feet, mumbling to himself. Blaze moved back toward the front door, his footsteps muffled in the heavy rag-carpet. The oil-lamp was gutter- ing in the other room, casting a yellow light over the walls. The half-open door began to squeak, as some one shoved it gently from the outside. The sound of a husky whisper came to Blaze’s ears. Blaze covered the edge of the door with his pistol. Suddenly a man’s body moved into view, but before Blaze could shoot a streak of flame shot from Frenchy’s gun and the man dropped to the floor. “Ba gosh, you mebbe wait too long some- time, Blaze,” said Frenchy softly. They listened, waited. Outside came a shrill whistle and a moment later the sound of galloping horses. Blaze took a chance. He hurdled the man in the door- way and sprang into the yard. By the dim light from the moon he could see men riding away. ‘Two horsemen swung past him, coming from the rear of 171 the house. Blaze emptied his pistol as the horses thundered past. One. of the men cursed and fired back. Fifty feet beyond, the horses seemed to crash together and go down. Frenchy and Delaney joined him. Blaze had watched, but could not tell whether the horsemen had gone to town or not. “Mora gave up trying to get us,” said Blaze. ‘‘He’s taken the women with him, I think. He’s lost too many men already, and he knows we are still alive. Look out for them two out there by the horses. They may have some fight left.” ‘They separated and started for the spot where the horses had fallen. A few feet away, Blaze stumbled over the body of a man, which proved that Mora’s surprize party had not worked out as he had planned. They found the horses—one dead, the other crippled, but there was no sign of the two men. | The three men stood there, undecided. Far away they could hear the music from the dance-halls, soft and as indefinite as the light from the fleece-covered moon. The saddle creaked on the crippled horse, as the animal started to move away. Far back in the hills a coyote lifted its voice in lamentation. “Ba gosh, she’s de peaceful night,” breathed Frenchy. “I’m lak’ to go to sleep, Blaze.” “How does the leg feel, Frenchy?” “Not feel much. I’m not t’ink she’s belong to me. My boot squash, squash all de time. How’s de arm?” “Can’t lift it,” said Blaze. ‘Weighs a ton. Buck up, Frenchy; we’ve got to get Black Mora tonight.” “She’s a fact,” said Frenchy. “We got t’ree good leg and t’ree good hand left, which mak’ plenty fun, ba gosh!” “My wife!” exclaimed Delaney suddenly, as if he had just awakened. “My ——, they’ve got my wife!”’ He trotted toward the town with Blaze and Frenchy following painfully behind. “Delaney got shocked, I reckon,” mut- tered Blaze. ‘He’s just rememberin’ things, Frenchy.” “T’m kill, kill—” muttered Frenchy com- plainingly, as if talking to himself. ‘De bad-man mus’ be kill bitfore de countree she’s good to live here.” Blaze knew that Frenchy was weakening from the loss of blood. His voice was 93 COmicoookKsS (C@