Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

The Closed Trail had reasoned they would, in a clump of timber through which the trail ran. As soon as the flickering lanterns revealed the dark object Gorham stopped them. “We'll wait for the others,” he said. “We're not any of us in it at reading signs with Carson, or the Weasel, or Frenchy, and we don’t want to muss up the tracks. I'll go and see if there’s any life, but I know that there isn’t.” Taking a lantern he went cece very carefully, walking in the center of the trail, bent over the body, and came back, tread- ing exactly in his footsteps. To questioning looks he replied by throwing his hand out in the Indian sign for death. When the men he had sent for came he spoke to Carson. “Dick’s dead,” -he said. ‘You three fellows take a good look before we pick him up. Cut some poles and make a tra- toise, boys, to take Dick home,” he said to the others. “Take my horse; he’s gentle. One of you go ahead and tell Mrs. Richard- son, and then go on home and get me - a fresh horse and throw a pack with some grub and coffee on to another, and come back, for we’re going to camp on this trail ‘till it ends. And another thing, boys,” he added, “‘this may be an accident, so let it go that way. If it isn’t it’s better to let them that did it think we’re fooled.” After the party had left Gorham spoke to Carson. ~ “Did you see anything, Jack?” and Carson nodded. “Plenty,” he said, and the Indian added three words— “Better wait daylight.” “Dick’s horse fell, rolled clear over, and _ Dick’s head is mashed i in,” Carson went_on. “But the trail is perfectly smooth there, nothing for the horse to fall over. And the horse lit on his left shoulder, and the place on Dick’s head is on the right side, well back. “Frank,” he continued, “how did. you figure it out so quick, that it wouldn’t be an accident, and where to find Dick?” “Well, it’s like this,’”’ Gorham told him. “Buck Ewing had a run in with that straw boss of Newton’s when neither of ’em had their guns on, and Crawford hasn’t been hunting Buck, which isn’t natural, because Crawford’s a bad-man with a rep to keep up, and Buck’s not a gunman like I am,” and he smiled grimly. ‘So I told Buck to keep his eyes skinned and to’stay off the skyline. Then today one of my boys was up on the head of Willow Creek and said that he met Dick and Buck up there, and Buck said he wasn’t going home to night, was going over on the Cottonwood, and asked Dick to go around by the ranch and tell em where he’d gone. “And after that the boy saw a couple of ’ 167 riders that acted as if they was trying to - keep out of sight. They was so far off that he couldn’t tell who they were, and hé didn’t go any closer, because itisn’t always healthy — projecting around after gents that’s trying to keep under cover. I had it all figured out to take some of the boys and go up on Willow Creek tomorrow and trail those guys and see what they was up to. And the way I got it sized up is that they were laying for Buck and figured to get him going home, and got Dick instead. And by ——,” he flamed out savagely, “I’ll put a rope on — those murderers and string ’em up if it’s the last thing I ever do.” After a while he went on— “So when I saw that Dick’s horse had cut across from the trail to the Square and Compass, heading for home, I knew right away what had happened.” Meanwhile the Indian, having said all that he considered necessary, had staked out his horse, built a fire, rolled up in his saddle blanket and gone to sleep. LaBrun now suggested the same thing. “Perhaps a long trail tomorrow, a little - sleep won’t hurt,” and the rest agreed. 7m BEFORE the sun was an hour YZm high the next morning the trackers ™ knew all that was necessary. Carson summed it up. “They covered their trail good, but not good enough,” he said. “It might have fooled some, especially if whoever found Dick had milled around a lot where Dick lay before they started to read sign. ‘“‘They had a rope across the trail between those trees, the mark is plain enough, about. knee-high, and when Dick came along, — riding easy, one of them cracked away at the horse with that rock. The Weasel picked it up. “The horse jumped, hit the rope and turned over. And before Dick knew where he was at one of them cracked him over the head. “They either had on moccasins or had JOO <S| EO) mi COMmnic Shee nar fe ve