Adventure, July 1, 1928 — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

THE ICE sharp and clear. The sap was running in the willows, but then a willow is a foolish sort of tree and frequently buds too soon. The creek on which their cabin was lo- cated was frozen down to its gravel bottom. Leach looked into the sky and a peculiar hardness grew in the muscles around his jaw. A flock of geese was fly- ing northward to some open body of salt water. A willow may be foolish, but geese know. “This year,” he repeated, “I win the ice pool!’ Atridge did not speak for several seconds. “T think,” he finally said, “I get you. But don’t you mean this year we win the ice pool?” “Yes, if you want to go in on it—fifty- fifty. Otherwise ’'m counting on you to keep your mouth shut!” “T’m with you; what’s your plan?” “We can’t lose. [ve worked it all out. Last winter when you thought I was brooding and maybe had cabin fever I was figuring to win the pool!”’ “‘What’s your plan?” Atridge repeated. “Easy! Blow the safe in Welch’s store and go down the river ahead of the break- up. What chance-has the marshal with the whole country flooded. I know of a dozen cabins in the lower country where we can hide out. Nobody will know whether we’ve wintered there or just arrived. Nobody knows we’re here! And we won’t show ourselves in the camp.” Like most prospectors he spoke of any thriving town as a camp. Originally it had been a gold camp. From it a town had grown. They camped on the outskirts of the community a week later. Excitement was on the increase. It was late April and money was coming from every part of the world. From traders and Eskimos in the North; from trappers, miners and business men throughout Alaska to men of poverty and wealth alike who chanced to be spend- ing their declining years in warmer climates. To some it merely meant thumbing a bill off a large roll; to others it meant a sacrifice. Back of it all was the GOES OUT 59 sporting blood of another day prompting them to take a chance; whispering that they had as good a chance to win as the next fellow. Loudly they might declare they knew they didn’t have a chance, but the faint voice of hope whispered— “But, maybe you have.” ON WELCH opened up his place of business to find the mailbox crammed with envelopes. One, larger than the other, attracted his atten- tion. He opened it. A small poke of gold dropped into his hand. With it a note which read: ICE POOL COMMITTEE: HERE’S ENOUGH PLACER GOLD TO BUY ME TWENTY CHANCES. 1M GUESSING THE ICE GOES OUT AS LISTED ON THE ACCOMPANYING PA- PER, I EXPECT TO WIN THIS YEAR, SURE. I’M SENDING THIS UP BY A SIWASH THAT I KNOW IS HONEST. MY ADDRESS IS KLAHOWYA LANDING. YOURS TRULY, —MACK LEACH. “From the lower river country, eh?” Welsh. mused. Coming by messenger there was, of course, no date or postmark. “Hang it. I wished that Siwash had show- ed up in daytime. Id like to have asked him some questions about the lower river country. Well, Leach, here’s hoping. Twenty chances will give you the edge on a lot of others, but the man with one chance often wins.” He opened a safe, already crammed with gold dust and bills, added the con- tents of the poke, entered the name and times in a large book and filed the letter away. Men were already working on the ice. In the center of the river a tripod had been erected. Just below it a wire, had been strung across the river. On the town side the wire was connected to a clock as well as a siren. When the ice moved the tripod was carried against the wire. The clock registered the exact time and the- scream of the siren proclaimed the ice comicloooks.com