10 Short Novels Magazine — page 109: what you’re looking at

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heavily loaded dogs teams. Those dog teams ain’t flown away.” Phil Robinson nodded. ‘Cheek,” he said and came to his feet. With his hand on the outside door Robinson turned. He beckoned his com- panion with his head. “I think ‘Jones’ has another gun under the bar,” he said. “Watch him!” As the door closed on Phil Robinson’s heels, Jinx Herbert swung quickly about. Johnny Boston and one of the latter’s companions were edging toward the black hallway that led to the kitchen. “Hold it!” Herbert snapped. “Where you two birds goin’ ?” The men stopped in their tracks. Jinx Herbert started across the room toward them; his thumbs locked in his broad leather belt left his hands free to grasp the butts of the pistols there. The eyes of both men twitched furtively toward Har! Pancoast. Jinx Herbert knew he was treading on mighty thin ice. He had nothing on these men. Nothing but suspicions. He couldn’t afford to be too high-handed. But the man ‘Jones’ had lied about that girl. Jinx Herbert forgot Phil Robinson’s warning. Just for an instant his back was turned toward the bar. “You hold it, red- coat!” came a harsh voice. Jinx Herbert pivoted on his heels. He looked into the twin muzzles of Sam Dillard’s sawed-off shotgun held rigidly in “Jones’” two hands. The big man’s swollen face grimaced a sneer. “I’m just saving you from nosing io trouble, Mr. Policeman,” he said ition is the boundary line between Canada and the United States. You’re out of your bailiwick when you pass that door. Wouldn’t do for you to get into trouble —in the United States. Inspector Snell might get rough with you.” Jinx Herbert’s Te jaws hardened. His blue eyes were . The locked thumbs slid out of his belt. His two hands hovered above the butts of the guns. “Put down that gun!” he said hoarsely. “I’m oes you just ten seconds, you flat-faced mug ” Harl Pancoast spat blood; his little eyes, squinting out through. puffed lids, twitched from side to side. “And what then?” he wanted to know. a going for my guns,” Jinx Herbert said. Paneoast spat again. “Don’t be a damned fool,” he growled. “‘T’ll blow you to hell—”’ A shuffling sound at his back caused Jinx Herbert to turn. A single flashing glance told him that two of the men by the fire had shpped out. Just as his “ The Frozen Empire * et 107° big body tensed for the showdown the muffled report of a gun sounded. There was a yell. Something crashed solidly against the outside wall of the cabin. Jinx Herbert’s two hands streaked for his guns. There was a slapping step behind him. A swishing sound. He fired blindly. There was a cry. His second gun, half- drawn, exploded, sending a leaden slug into the floor as a down-swinging rifle barrel crashed on the top of his head. Jinx Herbert’s curly red hair was long and thick, his skull hard; but that terri- ble blow would have felled an ox. He went out like a light. The big man with the clubbed rifle, sure of the result of his handiwork, merely glanced down once at the unconscious man’s pain-twisted face. Pancoast again spat redly. “Did you croak him, Pug?” he asked calmly. Pug Mincher nodded. “Cold duck,” he said laconi CHAPTER IV FRAMED INX HERBERT’S first sensation as he fought his way back to conscious- ness was of a stifling acrid odor. Even be- fore he blinked his aching eyes open he identified that smell. He was isky, drenched with the stuff. It had even been beard. : rubbed into his stubby With eyes squinting against the throb- bing hurt of his head he came up on an elbow. An involuntary groan pulsed out through his lips. He saw two pairs of legs. His bleary eyes traveled upward. He looked into the stern, hard-lined face of Inspector Snell. The older man at Snell’s side, puffing on the proverbial brier pipe, was Corporal Ben Briggs. Snell’s ae black eyes were hard as flint. His n lips were drawn in a white line under his small military mus- tache. “A fine mess,” he was saying. “Fine mess.” Jinx Herbert’s befuddled thoughts groped for understanding. He couldn’t even remember where he was until he made out the long bar. Then his dizzy eyes saw a limp arm encased in a fam- iliar red coat hanging over the side of the big table. Phil Robinson! Swearing under his breath Herbert came dizzily to | his feet. He stumbled toward that table brushing Snell arbitrarily aside. He looked down into the dead, white face of Phil Robinson! Even in his confused state of mind Jinx Herbert knew that his comrade was dead. Nevertheless, he caught the limp figure by the shoulders. “Phil!” he cried hoarsely. “Phil, old-timer! Wake up!” It was Ben Briggs who took Jinx Gomichbooks com: