The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

GOLD GRABBERS. “Thé Sneaking coyotes have cov- ered their tracks well, and even when Griggsby went I couldn’t lay hold of the first thing in the shape of a clue. “The coroner’s verdict, that he “met his death at the hands of some person or persons unknown,’ still stands. It’s a blot on the good name of this county and this mining district; but now, with your help, I’m in hopes to accomplish something.” “There'll be a clean-up, Ransom,” declared Bremerton shortly, “and you can gamble on that. Where did you leave your horses? ’”’ | “We've got a buckboard back a ways on the trail.” “You understand the scheme. Cap- tain Bryden and the half-breed is only part of it;.in addition to that, we’ve got to recover the stolen amalgam.” “T get you. Maybe your idea will work, and maybe it won’t; but we'll try it out.” | All five of them pushed into the chaparral at the trailside. The night wind rustled the greasewood branches, and as it rose and fell the muttering of the mill rose and fell with it. The clear-cut stars gleamed in the sky like scattered diamonds, and only beneath them the trail was a lone, whitish blur and the ridge-top a shadowy stretch of brush-clumps and massed boulders. An hour dragged, and then— ‘“What’s that?” whispered Ran- som in Bremerton’s ear. “ It’s a horse, and coming from the wrong direc- tion.” “ Wait—don’t make a move.” The galloping came close and a horse and rider paused within a dozen feet of those in the chaparral. Rising in the stirrups the rider looked over into the valley for a moment, peering and listening; then, with a sharp turn to the right, was off and out of sight along the ridge. “A woman, by thunder!” mur- mured the amazed sheriff. He swore under his breath. “Is there a woman mixed up in this, Bremerton?” he de- manded. 519 ““ How do I know who’s mixed up in it?” returned the superintendent fretfully. ‘“‘ There are others besides Big Steve and Chombo, I suppose, and maybe to-night will give us a line on them.” With one hand he touched O’Hara. The latter was sitting comfortably, his long knees hunched to his chin and his hands clasped around them. He laughed softly but said not a word. . The Irishman’s tide of sentiment had set in toward Mariquita Mallory. This weakness of the girl’s for night- riding, and at times when the nights were bedeviled with treachery, had in timely fashion been brought home to O’Hara. Bremerton expected sur- prise and consternation. His expec- tations had been met with a laugh that expressed unreasoning, unshaken faith. Another hour dragged, and then through the deep, rolling diapason of the mill a sliding foot whispered in the sand. A dark figure was climbing out of the valley, a sack over the shoulder. “Get ready!” said Bremerton to the sheriff. . A tense moment followed. Ransom took something from his pocket and rose crouching to his feet. Bremer- ton brought the lantern around in front of him and made ready to open the shutter. | The figure won to the top of the trail and turned toward the length of the ridge. In that moment the shutter clicked and an eye of light streamed from the bushes. Big Steve whirled with a gasp in his throat. The bag dropped and he stood blinking in the: glare. Then a hand swept under his coat toward his hip. “None of that!” The bushes crashed and Ransom landed heavily in the trail. “I’ve got your number, Bryden, and here’s where you lose. Bring that hand back in front of ‘you! ”’ The hand came back, but with steel glittering in the lantern-light. The COMicdoo S CO@