Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 159: what you’re looking at

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

The Letter of the Promise the sled was already whirled broadside on and directly in the path of the rushing fore- front of the main stampede. Those in front had no chance to halt or turnout. They were tearing too close behind. Their sleds collided violently with Casi- no’s and upset, and before they could make a move, the irresistible sea behind rolled into them. Wave upon wave, with the swift- ness of combers dashing on a windy beach, the human and beastly jam piled up in a chaotic flotsam. The snowy breast of the Yukon might have been the foam on shoal and treacherous water and these shipwreck- ed hordes cast up all tangled with loops of leather, snarls of rope and bits of twisted wood and metal. All along the river-bank oe 4S - THE L ETTER OF THE PROMISE 157 below the foot of Main Street were they strewn, and far out to midstream, and they heaved and rose and fell as upon a moving tide. All the excitement and strain of the race was transmuted into vicious anger at disas- ter. Like the undertone of the sea rumbled the clamor of their shouts and angry strug- gles, and sheer through the litter of prone, wrestling bodies one thousand masterless dogs pursued their untrammeled hunt. In the bottom of the hunt lay Casino, the snowshoe rabbit which had foredoomed him to defeat right under his nose. But Bassett, the wily and triumphant Bassett, was blocks up Main Street kicking at the recording- office door. by M.S. WIGHTMAN Author of “Unofficial,” “The Abduction of Swain,” etc. mAJOR CUTTER, Philippines fe} Constabulary, who commanded the forces in Bulayan, with headquarters at Porto Oporto, sat at his desk in the rambling old building of Spanish architecture in which the Con- stabulary had its offices. He had only that moment concluded the reading of a letter which the fortnightly mail had brought from Manila; it was from the General and said that Mullen would get the vacant lieutenant-colonelcy. But in spite of this disappointing mes- sage, the letter was couched in flattering terms, commending his work and rather plainly hinting that the next vacancy would go to him—a letter which many a major would have given a month’s pay to receive. And yet Cutter’s hand trembled so that the paper crackled slightly, and his scowling brows were drawn together into a straight black line. “Tt’s Bradley,”’ he said at length, bringing his foot down with a vicious stamp upon the floor. And he was right; it was Bradley, the CoOMmichoooks CO