Adventure Trails, February 1929 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

THE MIGHT OF THE SCORPION and so he could not express his gratitude. Perhaps it was just as well, for the sentry was only a few yards away. MINUTE later Ted saw the little Mexican stroll casually up to the guard with some idle remark. The guard glanced carelessly at the prisoner, and then grounded his rifle with a bored ex- pression that told just how important he thought it was that a tired hombre should be broken of his rest just to guard a- trussed-up gringo. A moment later he and the slim young Mexican who could not sleep were deep in some interesting controversy. In a few minutes Ted saw his chance. The guard had turned his back, and was deep in the midst of what was evidently a heated exposition, although they talked in such soft voices, for fear of arousing the nearby sleepers, that Ted could not catch its drift. Quickly and silently, keeping in the shadows as much as possible, but over- looking no opportunity to make time, he slipped around the edge of the clearing towards the trail that led upwards. Two or three times he almost stepped on sleep- ing bodies, and once a sleeper turned and groaned and Ted’s heart skipped a beat as he waited, poised there in the dark. Just as he reached the trail, a sudden shout woke the camp into amazed, tumul- tuous life. “The gringo! See! He is escaping; there he goes down the trail now! See him?’ It was the voice of the little blue- eyed Mexican who had that night once more saved Ted’s life. The camp behind him was a bedlam, and Ted no longer wasted time in trying to keep his movements quiet. Like a hounded deer he leaped up the trail, slip- ping now and then on round, loose stones, crashing into trees with terrific, breath- taking force when the trail made a sudden, unexpected turn, but putting every second more and more distance between himself and the camp. At last he had to slow down; the ter- rific pace and the steep incline sapped his endurance. But even tee he did not. stop; he kept on at a tired, shuffling dog trot, the trail getting narrower and — rougher with every step, it seemed, unti eS at last it disappeared entirely. Panting, Ted flung himself flat on the ground. Through the trees in front of him a faint light shone; a light that grew a slowly brighter and brighter until Ted could see the sharp, serrated horizon = sharply outlined against the pink glow. free! TX THE MESSAGE T took Ted the greater part of two It was the death-dawn—but he was = = days to make his way around the = mountain on which he found himself, and down on the other side. There was no trail, and the going was rough, precipitous and difficult, In places the stones were so loose and so sharp that walking on them was almost impossible, and later, as he made his way farther down the mountain, the creepers and shrubs made progress a long, continuous, strength-sapping battle. All the food Ted had was what berries he could find, and there were not many of them that he was familiar enough with to dare eat. There was plenty of water, however, in the mountain streams, and so, while he was savage with hunger, the water served to keep him going. A man hardened to outdoor life can go on a long way without food if he has water enough. Reaching the base of the mountain, Ted swung around until he struck the trail that led to the camp from which he had made his escape. He followed it cautiously to the place where he had left his horse, but the beast was gone. No doubt they had run across the horse in looking for him after his escape. Ted sat down and thought the matter over. He must have a horse. He must have weapons and food. The only near source of supply was the camp, but that was too heavily guarded for him to at- tempt to raid it. was to lay in wait along the trail, and The only thing to do — micboo! ia Cl bah Fede»