The Crime of the Trenches: or, Clif Faraday's Last Cartridge — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

L iy TOn¢ ‘her lig lany © ha the rap rie € 0 pa Teg ISU _ officer. somewhere hereabouts, and beyond, less than amile, come the Spanish entrench- _ steeper. ts 4 ; >| & ont ie s nt ; Py pty at ~ 7 a me / * i , > ia fs gO § Ree an 2; < ‘ : ; *, > “iio =e | ‘ - - “That sharpshooter must be nents. Is the fellow hand-in-glove witi them? If so, and he has made for their cainp, I am blocked for a spell.”’ Clif had come to. where the hills ran He paused, resting undecided, against a tier of stone marking | the higher level. But—slam ! The whole side of Clif’s face seemed suddenly crushed in. A shadowy weapon, the butt and ofa rifle, was swung down upon hin. Clif staggered, dizzily struggling as one powerful hand grasped one arm, as another twined into his hair like pincers of steel. In great pain, he was ; wrenched up. from his footing thus. His hair seemed pulling out by the roots. He was dragged, lifted perhaps five feet, flung prostrate. Rice Clif’s blurred senses tried to compre- -hend what had occurred, he sought to as- certain the menace hovering about him. His head had struck the rock as he was flung down. Now it seemed as if a‘moun- tain of weight had landed on his chest. Clif’s soul sickened as he made out that a human knee pressed him there, and held him with ore arm doubled up under him. The other was instantly pinioned by a like furious grip. Hot, hissing breath swept his face— vicious, venomous eyes. burrowed malig- nantly, triumphantly ‘down into the depths of hisown. ‘““Charmed life, indeed!’’? voiced: un- _ mistakable accents. Clif knew the tones—there was no guesswork as to the identity of his per- sistent foe. With his free hand the renegade volun-. teer drew a broad knife froin his belt. Clif could not repress a shudder. awful blade dripped a curdling globule upon his upturned face. It had drank the life blood of the brave soldier boy—the victim of the crime 111. the trenches. Now it was about to find a shieath ina second true and loyal heart. TRUE BLUE. Its* BY ALL MEANS READ OUR PREMIUM OFFER—SEE LAST PAGE. “Wait!” struggled Clif. ‘Yes, I will wait!’’ coolly sneered the mman who pinned himdown. ‘‘Say a min- ute—no longer—and say your say, Fara- day, 1f that’s what you’re up to!”’ ‘*T want to ask a question.” ‘*T can fancy it!”? ‘You are——”’? The scoundrel’s face blackened, eyes emitted a fiendish glare. ‘*You_ask that ?”’ ‘*T ask that.” ‘‘And never guess ?”’ ‘‘T know you!’ It came upon Clif ‘Faraday with a certain sense of humiliation—an instan- taneous, an intuitive divination of the identity of this man. Amid the exciting hours of the late afternoon it had not occurred to him. to connect this miscreant with his would-be his assassin of the palisade, although the as- sociation was natural. Now recognizing, orrather enlight- ened, the fellow’s true status flashed oss Clif’s mind with searchlight in- Cage and suddenness. Ves’? murmured Clif, with some- thing of a shock, ‘‘I can place you now!’’ | ‘*Ha!l ha—you can ?”’ ‘You are David Parr!’’ The miscreant slowed his teeth as he ground them. “Vou are one of the wolves of the navy !’? ‘They call us that, do they?’’ jibed the murderous scoundrel. ‘‘I’ll show you. Wolves tear—I rip# Faraday, you spoiled our game about that two hundred thousand dollars, the paymaster’s gold. You shot one of my comrades—you’re get- ting the other ready for his death sen- tence. It’sa big score, a deadly score, and I am going to wipe it off the slate! 17? The fellow gave his ponderous arm a tragical swing. Sige | Here!”? He swooped the knife across thie dizzied vision of his hopeless victilll. ““Now ! }>) Close quarters had come—Clif Faraday felt that the moment was supreme in its dark, certain menace. . Battered, wounded, alone in that,Jone- ly spot with a human monster, he felt cad