Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

32 THOMSON BURTIS “And I’m not the only one that knows it, either. It won’t do you any good to put me out of the way.” As so frequently happened when he faced a crisis, Daly’s mind seemed ab- normally keen. Despite the fact that his heart was lead within him, his brain seemed to work automatically. With a sort of frozen clarity he had decided that a few minutes of time, one way or the other, meant little. He could catch the bandits in Mexico, if necessary, and let international law have its way with him after MacDowell was safe. “Listen, Ivers,” he said coolly, his eyes looking into tragic depths rather than at the man before him, “‘you can do as you please about raking up the past. If you know as much as you do, you know that Jim Fitzpatrick was a white eyed rat of a killer, who got by because his father at that time was the smuggling king of the Border who pulied wires that even led to Washington at times. And you know that the drunken louse shot a poor old coon who didn’t get him a sandwich fast enough, and that I shot him when he turned on me because I told him what he was. Go ahead and talk, damn you, and you'll have plenty of chance to! You may let the country know what I was when I was a kid, but, by God, they’ll know you were a doublecrossing crook yourself!” Ivers did not even blink his eyes. Tension was like a physical thickness in the air. “What do you mean?” he asked huskily. “That you’re in with Derringer, that you’re doublecrossng Mr. MacDowell, that you tipped off our signals in this game tonight and got us here to lose money, and that this abduction of Tex is a frameup to get you and your pals another fifty thousand! God, what a rat you are! I don’t know what you’ve got against the MacDowells, but you'll have a chance to tell.” “You’re crazy, Daly. And it won’t get you anything. Assuming for the sake of argument that you were right, what proof would you have? And wouldn’t you be crazy to—” “To what?” Ivers eyed the ready gun and played with his watch chain. He looked around to make sure that they were alone. “Maybe,” he said slowly, “we can make a deal.” Daly knew in an instant that he could trade silence for silence. His own past would remain a secret, if he remained silent on the subject of Henry Ivers. Then, with the force of a stunning physi- cal blow, the implication in Ivers’ words made his eyes widen and his body feel numb. Ivers must realize that Tex knew as much as Daly himself. Ivers did not expect that Tex would be able to tell any tales whatever! The paralyzed flyer fought for control. Now that he thought of it, it seemed probable. Already the gang had proved themselves totally without scruples of any kind. The kidnaping of an Army officer was a serious business which would result, for the definitely known bandits, in an unending hunt. It would be a matter of international law. They had been masked. Tex would know what they looked like. What amount of money would cause them to take a chance on such a crime, if they were not almost guaran- teed safety after it was over? What more likely than that they collect the money, and kill MacDowell anyway? Tex had been a Border Patrolman for five years, and dozens of outlaws feared, dreaded and hated him. He alone, almost single handed, had put Dave Fitzpatrick be- hind the bars, and Dave had had a legion of followers. Ivers himself must hate the elder MacDowell. Vengeance and money combined—why, those very bandits in whose charge he was might be made up of men with a grudge against the officer of the law. In an instant Daly made up his mind. Everything in the world was forgotten now except that the life of his friend was in danger. From that second on no - thought of his own personal safety entered _into his calculations in the slightest. comlicloooks.com