10 Short Novels Magazine — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

OX ee ee : ie : Sug ‘ er <a 104 * * * Ten Short Novels Magazine them money. He was still alive and his business prospering, which two facts made it clear to law officers from both countries that Sam Dillard, despite cer- tain evident irregularities in conduct, was a square-shooter. This particular day, old Sam was rid- ing a hunch. His watery eyes twitched constantly toward the heavy log door. When that big door finally swung in- ward, the old man stooped quickly and the bony fingers of his right hand closed about the stock of a sawed-off shotgun. It was a girl who materialized out of the cloud of powdery snow dust. She pulled the lynx skin parka over her shoulders and shook her yellow head. Sam Dillard swallowed hard. His whis- kered lips made unintelligible sounds. Even before Lou Dillard spoke he knew -his hunch was about to be justified. “The police are coming, Dad,” the girl exploded as soon as she got her breath. “Two of them. Young fellows. Constables, I guess. Inspector Snell and Corporal Ben Briggs left Lacey River Post this morn- ing. They’re heading this way, too.” Lou Dillard paused breathlessly. Her Brown eyes were fixed with a curious intentness on her father’s face. Sam Dillard fidgeted uneasily. The girl hadn’t told all of her story. He knew. “Waal,” he prompted. “Go on! We been visited by redcoats afore. That ain’t nothin’ to git excited about. Unless,” he grinned, “one of them young constables is good lookin’.” Lou Dillard’s wind-reddened cheeks could not have gotten much redder. She flashed a dubious smile. “One of the con- stables is very good looking,” she said. “The other one is big and hairy and walks with a limp. I like the big one best.” “You would,” Sam Dillard bantered. “The closer they resemble grizzly bears, the better you seem to like ’em. But what’s the rest of your story, Lou?” A frightened look came briefly into the girl’s face. Her dark.eyes had a faraway look, as though she were visualizing some impressive scene she had just witnessed. “There were five of them,” she finally said softly, as though speaking to herself. “Strangers. Chechaquos, I guess. I never saw any of them before. They killed Ab Clam and Yance Fifield. They had three dog teams. They took all of the furs from old Ab’s cache and burned Yance Fifield’s cabin. The two constables got there—too late.” Sam Dillard was staring at the girl as though she were a ghost. His whiskered lips twitched. His eyes had a haunted look as though some long-buried misery out of the past had achieved sudden resurrec- — = = a ~- => ot = —“ — - . nn Sw eee ee ae eee stags <a Sa i _ 3 = » tion. “What—what did the leader of the gang look like, Lou?” Lou Dillard answered thoughtfully. “He was a big man. Almost a giant. He had yellow hair and blue eyes. There was a scar—or no it was a birthmark—along his right cheek—” The words stuttered on the girl’s lips. She cried out and ran forward as Sam Dillard leaned, gasping, back against the bottle-filled shelves behind the bar. “Dad!” she cried. “What is it?” “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all, Lou,” the old man said huskily. “Kind of vertigo, I guess.”” He smiled whitely. “Expect I shouldn’t of et so much of that fudge you made.” But it wasn’t vertigo that ailed Sam Dillard, Lou Dillard knew. Sam Dillard —was afraid! CHAPTER II OUT OF THE BLIZZARD HE GIRL was making her way around the bar toward her father when the big log door swung inward. A giant of a man stood there peering through ice-curtained eyes into the dimly lit room. There was a vivid purple birth- mark along his. right cheek. The big man’s eyes finally rested upon Sam Dillard’s gray-white face. “Heilo, Sam,” he greeted in a deep, rumbling voice. “All alone?” Sam Dillard nodded. He motioned to the wide-eyed girl with a hand discreetly hidden under the bar. Obediently Lou Dillard backed away and squeezed out through a door which led to her own room. The big man glimpsed the girl just as she disappeared. “That her?” he asked. Sam Dillard nodded miserably. For a long minute the giant’s eyes rested on Sam Dillard’s twitching face. He laughed then deep in his throat, pene and called over a shoulder, “O. K ys.” Four fur-bundled figures plastered with snow from head to foot trooped into the room. The big man removed his wet cap. “You’d better beat it, Sam,” he sug- gested. “A couple o’ redcoat dicks will be here soon. Make yourself scarce. I'll take charge.” Sam Dillard did not protest. His pale eyes had a wild look like a cornered ani- mal’s. He shrugged his bony shoulders. “All right, Harl,” he said. Fingers trembling visibly, ‘he removed his white apron and stumbled away. INX HERBERT ran with amazing speed for such a big man. His game leg was forgotten as he raced through ‘a in, —, IR ee — — = comicbooks.