Adventure Magazine Cover — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

116 him during the day. He did not believe the fellow would have the courage to attack him openly. He sincerely hoped it was a false alarm, and he would have hurried on if not for the fear that Allen was in ambush ahead. There was Mayor Farnum’s warn- ing, concise and positive, against any street fighting. The town would not be safe for any one who indulged in the pastime. And Dinsdale wished to remain until he had glimpsed Jim Omaha. From the medley of voices, calling warnings for him to run, jeeringly denouncing him, and urging Allen to “settle his hash,” it was plain Allen had been making his boast at the hotel and the street in front of the building had been - picked for the assault. “Where is he?” loudly yelled Dinsdale, not knowing whether to retreat or advance. “Here he comes! Run!’ some one shouted. But coming from which direction? Dins- dale knew he must leave town on the jump if any fighting resulted. He turned to re- treat up the street, changed his mind as he saw a dark figure dodging behind a tree, and started down the street. With hand on his gun and his head swinging from side to side, he: advanced a few rods when a head popped from behind a dry-goods box. Dinsdale whipped out his gun but refrained from firing when a voice shouted: “The hotel! He’s coming out!” The light was sufficient for Dinsdale to recognize the speaker to be Scissors, and he swung about on his heel just as Bandy Allen ran into the road from the hotel, a long gun clasped in his two hands. Up went the gun to his shoulder and down drop- ped Dinsdale, and two loads of slugs tore with a scream over his head. Had he re- mained erect he would have caught the charge full in the chest. He rolled to one side and came up on one knee as Allen dropped the shotgun and began firing with his hand-guns, the lead kicking the dirt into his face. “Go back!” he roared, throwing himself flat and rolling toward the box which sheltered Scissors. ; Perhaps Allen believed his quarry was seriously wounded and unable to gain his feet; perhaps the influence impelling him to commit the murder outweighed all sense of discretion. Whatever was driving him to make his kill he did not falter, but with a loud yell of triumph began running toward Adventure the writhing figure. With the resilience of a steel spring Dinsdale came to his feet. Allen came to a halt and fired with his left hand and was throwing down his right- hand gun when Dinsdale’s lead caught him in the forehead. As Allen went down on his face some one grabbed Dinsdale’s arm; and Scissors was wailing: “‘Now-you’ve gone and done it! Drink- ing, gambling, scaring folks, sassing the city fathers, and now a killing! Come away! Comeaway!” And he urged Dins- dale down the Street. ~ “Shut up! Think you’re telling me some- thing new?” growled Dinsdale. ‘‘Keep along with me till I can write a few words to San Juan. Give me some of your paper!” He halted in the light of a gambling-hall window and placing the pad against Scis- sors’ back he found a pencil and hurriedly wrote: Allen laid for me. I did for him. Am riding South. Start Pyrites early in am. [Il meet him on the stage road ten miles from town. Have him bring outfit, a .44 Winchester rifle and plenty of ammunition. Allen was drunk or crazy. Use your influence with city council. Kill off any mob talk. Sending this by Scissors. Warn him to keep his mouth shut. Ill look for a message at Rapid City week from today—P. D. “Take this to San Juan Joe in a rush, Scissors. If he’s in a game break in so he can read it at once. Don’t talk.” Then he hurried down the street, running swiftly when he came to dark stretches. Behind him sounded the individual yelping of men running to fill the street. These discordant cries gradually merged into a sullen roar, the hunting-call of the mob. He was well ahead of his pursuers, however, for he gained Clarke’s livery stable and pro- cured his horse from the sleepy hostler and cantered down the stage road without any one questioning his going. CHAPTER VI PROSPECTING py RIEBS was garrulously grateful to Dinsdale for providing the stake, and for two days of their hurried journey toward the divide between Rapid and Spring Creeks he wearied his silent com- panion with his voluble thanks. Dinsdale was for reaching the divide with the least possible delay. He did not say he feared COMMICLOokKs Gomme