Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

640 skin. ‘* Wecan fill our waterskins here and travel afoot.” “You could fill your waterskins and. do as you say—awhile ago, sefor,”’ Yuma Tom replied with a significant little pause. “‘ But now they will not hold water. While lying beside them, I managed to insert my bound hands and moccasin toes into their open throats, and ripped them clear to the bottom.” “What? You what? You—” Blas cut himself off, and ordered sharply: “Ramon, go and see if this red dog speaks the truth.” Ramon was gone and back within a few seconds. “He speaks the truth, chief. The waterskins are absolutely useless.” Blas thumbed up the hammer of his six-shooter and glared at Yuma Tom, now sitting up. ‘Why did you do that, Indio?” “To save my life, Chihuahua Fox. I know where there is a spring within walking distance of here. The Apaches know much that the Mexicans do not. If I am a corpse, I cannot lead you there. Alive, I can. “You and your men are not used to walking. Your boots, even, are high of heel and pointed at the toe. To travel eighty miles to the south, with- out water, is out of the question for you. Vultures would have you all be- fore a second sunup. ‘Therefore you will think long before you kill me. Is it not so? “Water is here aplenty. But you have nothing in which to carry any with you for the trip. “You are the captors. I am the captive. Yet I taunt you that I trade life for life. If I am killed, you will all die of thirst, if you leave. And of hunger, if you stay here. So after we have something to eat, we will start for the little, hidden spring J know of, res?” : Blas grunted and motioned his men to come with him a few paces away. “Do any of you know where there ° ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. is water this side of Oso Spring, to the south?” he asked. None of them did. “Then,” said Blas sullenly, “ we cannot give him the knife now. ‘The only thing to do is to give in to him here—and later kill him at the spring he knows of. There is such a place, because | have heard the Indios speak Of it.” Much as they disliked to yield, life was more to them than vengeance. And returning to their prisoner, they removed his bonds. Whatever doubts Yuma Tom might have had as to the success of his strate- gy were about dispelled when, at sun- rise the next morning, he looked back at the thirsty, haggard, dust-powdered men trudging close behind him on a dusty alkali flat. Since leaving the water hole they had plodded up and down low hills, through dry canons, rocky gullies, and sandy, level stretches toward the spring to which he had promised to lead them. In the beginning they had_ been heavily armed: rifles on their shoul- ders and holstered revolvers hanging from full cartridge belts. But long ago the rifles had been thrown away, the cartridge belts discarded, and now they had only their revolvers, carried in their hands or stuck in between their shirts and the waistbands of their trousers. None of the outlaws was used to walking. Their muscles were sore, their feet blistered, and each step had - become agony. “Hey! Hold on there,” Blas called, in a voice that was trembling and husky. Yuma Tom stopped and waited. When his captors reached him, Blas croaked: “‘ How much farther is it to that spring you spoke of ?” “1 do not know, exactly,” Yuma Tom lied. ‘I have to go on a little farther to get a landmark.” As he spoke, he wondered how much longer it would be before he horse A Gomichbooks 1€O