Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 109: what you’re looking at

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

Lisbeth OI And he pressed on with Lisbeth wearily breaking through the crust behind him for another two hours. THAT night he ate the last few scraps of his venison, and boiled his saddle strings to eke out the meal. For the first time in their arduous journey Lisbeth made no effort to obtain food for herself. She tramped out a place through the crust large enough to lie down in and dropped on her side. Through the long, weary hours while he gathered dead willows to heap upon his fire Alex con- templated her with remorseful eyes. Toward morning he fell into a doze and when he awoke a red, discouraged looking sun was sending slanting rays of slight heat across the unyielding surface of the snow. Lisbeth had got to her feet and was pawing about the roots of willow bush from which she occasionally extracted a mouthful of dry grass. Ashe came toward her determinedly with his. keen bladed knife in his hand her big ears shot forward kindly and she greeted him with the old familiar bray. ‘‘____.”” he muttered, “I can’t do it—not with a knife anyway.” He knelt down on the fire-dried ground and considered. He had one bullet, and it was sufficient to do the business. After all he could carry mule meat enough to last him to Fort Hall, and if he did not find any one there to give him aid his case was hopeless anyway. He might just as well waste the bullet here and put Lisbeth forever out of her misery. He brought his rifle to his shoulder and squinted along the sights to the exact center of her forehead. Lisbeth’s ears came up in mild curiosity. Alex knew that the old mule knew the death dealing prop- erties of a gun, and her placid confidence was entirely too much for him. He dropped the butt of the rifle into the snow with a curse. : “Td bea , cowardly murderer now t’ kill ye, ole girl, after all these years we put in together,” he jerked out. _ He threw his arm around her neck and rubbed his be-whiskered face along the soft, white hair on her jaw. A spasm of weak- ness that, beginning in his troubled mind, communicated itself to his body caused him to' throw all his weight on the old mule’s neck, and presently he noted that she was holding him up. ‘“Ain’t all in yet, are yuh, Lisbeth?” he marveled. ‘Well, I can’t take ye with me no farthur, an’ I simply ain’t got the heart t’ kill ye. The only thing left is t’ leave ye behind. There ain’t one chance in seven million fer ye t’ pull through the winter, but at least yuh can die a nat’ral death—unless the wolves git ye—an’ that’s more in the nature of a mule.” A mile away and nearer to the river he could see what looked to be a swamp, and swamps frequently had grass. | ‘Come on,”’ he said almost gruffly, “‘that may be a better place t’ leave yuh than this is.” As he approached the swamp he saw that it was really an island in the river. It was covered over with willow clumps, now bent over and loaded down with snow till they resembled innumerable little snow mounds or igloos, with here and there tall alders pro- jecting nakedly in the air. The river was frozen over and they had no difficulty reaching the island. Alex was disappointed, for there was not a blade of grass in sight, and the snow seemed deeper and crusted harder than in any place he had yet encountered. But they had been an hour and a half coming that mile and he could not delay longer. He had tried to bring himself to kill the old white mule and failed. He was not the man to waste time fighting the battle over again. He stripped saddle and hackamore from Lisbeth and left her free. For a mo- ment he stood over the saddle bags, ponder- ing. It seemed the part of reason to conceal the two bags of gold dust there on the island and go on as lightly loaded as possible, but he was a man of dogged persistence. He had set out for the sole purpose of saving his business. What would it profit him if he did get through and then had to see it go to smash for lack of this gold? Resolving that if he got through at all it would not be in vain he stooped and lifted the sacks of the saddle bags. “Tf Pd killed ole Lisbeth I’d a loaded my- self down heavier than this,’”’ he reconciled himself as he made a pack bag of a single blanket into which he slung the dust. Then, with his rifle in his hand, he marched away. Since the river was frozen he decided to follow it. From time to time he meant to crawl to some elevation and inspect the road. If any one was coming he would see them; if the outlaws he could hide; if any one else he could make his presence known. COMIGDIOOKSEEO