Adventure Trails, February 1929 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

= “Tf you will permit, I can tell you who __ the gringo is,” came a voice unexpectedly from the group of Mexicans ranged 2s around. : = “Well?” thundered the Scorpion. “Speak up!” “Tt is the gringo who, with a friend, operates a mine not far distant.” “So! Is that the truth, gringo?” : Ted threw back his head defiantly, and -__ looked his persecutor full in the face. “Who are you, to question me?’ he asked boldly. For an instant the bearded figure hesi- tated, and then with a commanding sweep of his arm, he motioned the two guards to take Ted away. “Bind him! Guard him carefully! And then to-morrow, when the sun rises, I shall teach him what is the authority of the Scorpion!” he = shouted furiously, and before Ted could --—s utter another word he was bound, gagged, and lashed to a tree that grew near the middle of the little clearing. ~ Abruptly the Scorpion and his dapper companion wheeled their horses and dis- appeared into the shadows from whence they had come. “See, gringo, you are facing the east!” chuckled one of the guards. “Is that not thoughtful of us? You shall see from here your last sunrise. And if you look just above you, you can see the very limb from which we shall presently hang you. Good night, gringo!” And so they left him. . ~~ : ane aes = _ ee . 4 VIII THe DEATH-DAWN LOWLY the camp quieted down. The chatter and subdued laughter merged into the silence of the night. Hardly a sound was to be heard save the soft pac- ing of Ted’s guard and the heavy breath- ing of the sleepers around the fires. To Ted, the minutes dragged by like | hours, like weeks. Every instant of every 5; second his mind, preternaturally active, lived a thousand thoughts. Not that he was afraid to die, because the last two years of the war Ted had looked death - ADVENTURE TRAILS in the face too many times to blanch at the sight once more. It was the waiting. A hundred times he thought he detected the first faint tinge in the eastern sky, and as many times he realized that not for hours would the first rays appear. He tried to divert his mind by working sav- agely to free himself from his bonds, tak- ing a certain delight in the agony caused by the rough ropes biting into his flesh. But it was a useless task: the stiff ropes would not give in the slightest. He stopped and felt the warm blood from his champed wrists trickle down the palms of his hands and drip from his finger tips to the ground. Perhaps two hours after the last man had rolled into his blanket Ted was startled by a soft whisper from behind his back. “Stand still! Do not look around. I am in the shadow of the tree, and the guard must not suspect.” It was the voice of the slim little Mexican with the blue eyes! Ted nodded slowly, understandingly, and the anxious whisper went on. “T could not bear to see you hung. You saved my life; that I cannot forget, even though you are a gringo, and a breaker of your pledged word.” Ted heard the soft snick of a sharp knife cutting through the taut ropes that bound him to the tree, and felt the blood pour painfully into hands and feet as the impinging bonds loosened. “Presently I shall walk up to the guard and engage him in conversation. I shall tell him that I cannot sleep and am rest- less. Watch, and when you see that he is facing away from you, go as quickly and as quietly as you can—and go up the trail, not down. “When I see you are gone, I will my- self spread the alarm, claiming I saw you disappear into the shadows beside the down trail. Later, after the search has ended—say in a day or two—you can make your way down again. Under- stand ?” Again Ted nodded ; the dirty rag that served as a gag had not been loosened, (eC) EComichoo : Ps alle a tie + -_ - «~ -? TT. - a Pg a ae ee et ee eT eee CS ge - ag >