Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

84 Without a word the old man turned and left the room. His baby-blue eyes were dim and his hands shook. He gained the street and wandered slowly about, a weary droop to his big shoulders. About noon the stage pulled up before the hotel in a cloud of dust. From his position near the Tin Dipper the old man watched it with dull eyes. The greater part of the population of Canto was there to watch it. The old man’s eyes searched the faces of the crowd. He noted the man with the red-face and other members of the committee among the crowd. His eyes suddenly grew keen. As the stage-door swung open and the crowd looked on expectantly, he turned and made his way swiftly to the little stable at the rear of the hotel. a rolled out of Canto the red-faced man returned to the room on the second floor of the hotel, the room where the committee had met that morning. He flung himself lazily into a chair and placed his feet on the table. He was seated thus, smoking a huge cigar, when a member of the committee rushed in. “That old mountain-goat has took his hoss an’ cleaned out!” he shouted. The red-faced man’s feet came to the floor with a crash. “How long has he been gone?” he snarled. “Can’t be much more than half an hour,” asserted the other. “‘Where in ABOUT half an hour after the stage is all the boys?” was the next question. ‘“‘You know darn well we can’t lose that horse! ‘There’s only five horses in the whole place and we need one more for the committee—and we are going to get it! Where in thunder are the boys?” “Slim an’ Hodge lit out down the main trail and the rest went up the trail.” “That leaves you the only man left with a horse!” snapped the red-faced man. “What makes you boys think he took the main trail?” “He couldn’t have took any other. The cafion trail can be seen from all over the piace, and ol’ Pop Higgens has_ been watchin’ it all day—he’s expectin’ his kid over from Blue Top. He says there ain’t been a soul on the trail all day.” “There’s the old Indian trail that leads over into the Martin Cafion country. He Adventure could have slipped along in back of the hotel and up the creek-bed without being seen!” “He ain’t took the Indian trail,’”’ said the other with a positive shake of his head. “T’ve had an eye on that, off an’ on, all day. There ain’t been any one over that trail in a dog’s age. You got to get on to her from the creek-bed, an’ the last time the creek was full she left a lot of soft dirt there. He couldn’t make it without leavin’ tracks as big as a house.” “Vou’ve looked to make sure?” “T’ve looked till my eyes are sore. ain’t so much as a fly track!” The red-faced man gave a grunt of satis- faction and puffed deeply at his cigar. “Tt’s lucky he hasn’t gone out on the old Indian trail,” he said. “Give him an hour start on that and we'd be out of it. After he got over the wall and into Martin Cafion country, he’d be safe. ‘There’s not more than a dozen white men been through there—but Ill bet that old goat is one of them. I'll bet he knows it like a book!” “Well,” said the other, “he missed his play then. He ain’t took the Indian trail— T’ll stake my neck on it!” “He’s a pretty wise old boy,” said the man with the red face. “He knew he’d have to have at least -an hour start to keep us behind until he got over the wall. He seen he couldn’t get on to the trail with- out leaving tracks—so he made a run for it on the main trail.” “He’s got a mighty slim chance,” grinned the other. ‘There ain’t a chance to turn off the main trail for thirty miles. The boys will run him down within two hours even if he throws away that pack he’s got.” “You follow the boys down the trail,” said the red-faced man with a nod. “I'll stay here and see that he don’t double back in some way and hit the Indian trail—that may be his game.” ‘But there won’t be a hoss in camp!” obiected the other. “Never mind about that,’’ was the an- swer. ‘“T’ll stroll down the creek-bed with a rifle. Ill have his horse if he ever tries to cross over!” There Ete A MOMENT later the red-faced 4a; man was alone. He listened for a moment to the clatter of hoofs as the other man flew down the main trail, and then slowly rose to his feet. As he did so a slight sound made him whirl toward . COmiclbooks (C@