Adventure Magazine Cover — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

gO was turned to Doc and Gillen. In that moment Gillen leaped passed Doc for the opening. When Snoots recovered equilib- rium his man was gone, and Doc blocking his way out. Snoots made a feint, lunged as if to pass the doctor on his right, and, as Doc reached out to grab him, pulled back and shot past him on his left. Up Lily White Street gallops the whole parade of us. The naked Snoots was about fifty feet behind Gillen. Doc Waldo, plung- ing like a porpoise, was about the same dis- tance behind Snoots, and leading me by about thirty feet. Johnson, who hadn’t yet recovered from the rap of Snootful’s knuckles, lay sprawled in the street won- derjng what had hit him. Dixie was close on my heels, panting over my shoulder. “Dawg-gawn you, Breeze, get out of the way an’ let some one run who knows how to run! Let me get that boy Snoots befo’ he catches Gillen! Dawg-gawn fools, you fellahs!”” We rapidly overhauled Doc, whose years and bulk were against speed. He was blow- ing, snorting like a foghorn, and bellowing Snootful’s name with all he had of lung- power, threatening general court martial, strait-jacket, keel-hauling. But he was only wasting wind. For at that moment had a ton of dynamite exploded within a few yards of him, Snoots wouldn’t have heard it. Gillen shot into Germ Junction, rounded the doctor’s shack on one leg, then straight- ened out and, lost in a swirl of dust, flew down Scab Boulevard, with Snoots now only thirty feet behind him. Neck and neck Dixie and I passed Doc on the turn. “Get that fellow! Get him!’ he shouted after us. ‘“Dawg-gawn you fellahs!”’ panted Dixie. “Man, you the most densest fellahs! Couldn’t you see the doctah knew all about it? That it was all a game?”’ “Game? He had handcuffs!” “Fo’ Gillen,’ he grunted. “ ’Notheh paih in his pocket fo’ the pup. I told Doc eve’thing—this mawin’—befo’ eveh they tried to pull the trick. Couldn’t you fel- lahs see he was only givin’ them enough rope? They done already hung themselves!” Oh, sure! Now I could see! Doc had known all the time. Dixie had wised him up beforehand of the frame-up. Fine! Doc had gone through that farce in our tent— Adventure had affected to believe Snoots was a thief— merely to give the two rats rope enough to hang themselves. Superfine! Hunky-dory indeed—unless Snoots caught Gillen. He’d kill him! I could always run. No man had ever been able to catch me when I wanted to sprint. The way I tore away from Dixie made him appear to be standing still. So could Snoots run. When Gillen rounded the last tent down on the suburban end of Scab Boulevard and headed across the baseball diamond, Snoots was reaching for him. Gillen must have felt the breath of him on his neck, for he managed to maintain his lead all the way across the ball grounds to Lily White Street, where, still leading Snoots by an inch more than arm’s reach, he once more pointed for Germ Junction. And me? Of course no one was timing me, therefore I can’t prove it, but I know I smashed the world’s sprinting record in that dash down Scab Boulevard and across the ball-field. I was thirty feet behind Snoots when he turned off the Boulevard; twenty, when he crossed second base; ten, turning into Lily White Street; and as we flew into Germ Junction I was reaching out and feeling of the back of him with my fin- ger tips. I’m a little hazy on just how this hap- pened. Whether Gillen stumbled, or was pushed or tripped by Snoots—possibly Snoots trod on his heels. Anyhow, the three of us bowled over in a heap, with Gil- len on the ground, Snoots on top of him, and me, heels skyward, flying over the pair of ’em. Bang! Know what it is to get a bump on the bean? My lights flickered—didn’t go out, understand—just simply—well, flickered—that’s the word—for a few mo- ments. I went whirling, but only for a few moments. “Yah yah yah yah yah yah yah!” I heard, along with a rapid thump-thump-thump- ing, as of a club, on the ground. I came out of it. Vision cleared. What I saw was enough to bring any man out of it. Not ten feet from me murder was being done! Blue in the face, eyes popping, tongue out, Gillen lay on his back, with Snoots astraddle of him, hands at his throat, shak- ing his head up and down as a terrier shakes a rat. “Yah yah yah yah yah yah yah!” And oO COMG HOO <S CO