Adventure, December 1914 — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

Proof “Shut up!” ordered the big gray-bearded man who had led the rush of the six sleds. ‘‘We don’t want your guff. We want. you.” ‘What for?” ‘‘Stealing our stuff from Ten-Mile Cache. You drop that dog-whip.” Sark held on to it. ‘“‘Look here——”’ he began. “You drop that dog-whip.”’ The gray-bearded man waved a hand to the others, and, as with a single movement, five rifles leaped out from under their sled lashings to the level of their hips. Sark quickly dropped the whip. ‘Say, men, any asylum on this trail?” he asked. The gray-bearded one gazed at him sharply. “No! Why?” “T thought maybe there might be and its contents running loose. I got balled up with one crazy man a few minutes ago. Now here’s six more.” ‘“‘Hassing,’”’ ordered the man with the gray beard, ignoring Sark’s sarcasm, “‘bet- ter take his gun.”’ “Taken it is, Clavin,” nodded Hassing, a squat, red-faced fellow, stepping forward and pulling another rifle from the sledge to which the five malemiuts were hitched. ‘“‘You’re welcome to it,” grinned Sark. “Tt isn’t mine.” ‘“‘No, and the bacon and beans and flour ain’t yours, either,’’ sneered Hassing, kick- ing the bags upon the sledge. “No they’re not! And if you ask me, the sled and the malemiuts aren’t mine. Even the darned dog-whip isn’t mine.” “Must say you're all-fired candid, stran- ger,’ cutinClavin. “But I guess you know there’s no use trying to fool us.” ‘“You’re sure I’m your robber?”’ “Sure as hanging, stranger.” “And don’t I get a chance to clear my- self?” ‘fAll the chance in the world—at Ten- Mile Cache. That’s where the stuff be- longs and that’s where we’re going on the jump. We’ve been laying for you three cold nights now, and all Canyon City’s getting mighty anxious about you.” As Sark was whirled down the slope again, sitting sandwiched between Clavin and Hassing upon the front sled, his feeling was one of amusement. But amusement gave way to serious thought, and that to anxiety and positive foreboding when he ’ 103 reached Ten-Mile Cache and saw the crowd awaiting him with a suggestive coil of rope in their hands. The news had gone forth in Canyon City that the six men set to watch the Cache were chasing the thief up the mountain. One rifle-shot had been heard, and men had run out in throngs to await the return of Clavin and the rest. ree of frontiersmen, clad in parkas, mackinaws, coonskin, and bearskin, that surged about the sled whereon Sark rode. All scowled at him. Many spat to- ward him. Some even tried to pull him away from his custodians, Clavin and Has- sing. “String him up!” was the universal cry. “String him up right now! What’s the use of waiting and gassing round?” But Clavin shouted down the impulsive mob. “Don’t make cussed fools of yourselves!” he advised. ‘Miners’ law’s the same as any law. You got to take evidence and prove a man guilty before you can do any punishing under it. Stand back and come to order. Light a fire. And appoint a chairman.” At once a huge fire of dead spruce was kindled. And at once the position of chairman was thrust upon Clavin himself. Clavin stood upon a sledge in the snow and, before the throng crowding into the firelight, stated the charge against the pris- oner. Then he called Hassing as the first witness. “Tonight for the third time we was lying in the spruce back of the Cache,” began Hassing, “‘to get the skunk as was taking our stuff. *I'was mighty cold and nothing doing till long about midnight. Then we see something moving and we crawled up. But the skunk was leery. He seen us as soon as we seen him, and he jumped for the sled he had piled full of stuff and hit the trail up the mountain. I was nearest, and I cracked at him once. He fell off the sled, got up and jumped onagain. Ball just grazed him.” He paused significantly and pointed a finger at Sark’s temple, showing bloody under the edge of his parka-hood. ‘‘Chased him then and got him red-handed with the goods on him—yjust around the first bend.” Hassing ceased abruptly and slouched IT WAS a motley, hard-bitten mob DOOK C©