Adventure Trails, February 1929 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

THE MIGHT OF THE SCORPION 27 “Stand still! Do not look around! I am _ in the shadow of the tree.” “Desperate situations require rem- edies,” he replied gently, “And I think I have an idea which may work. And there is no time to loose. It must be now—or never! Once he sets fire to his powder train, it will be too late.” “Then I—I go also!” said the girl proudly. “I have played no small part in helping Jarnoff in his work, thinking I was working for the good of these poor people. I will help to undo what I have done.” “You must not,” argued Ted. “There will be danger. And if things go wrong, you—you must not be left in Jarnoff’s hands, I’m afraid that he would not be very gentle.” “T go, or I do not tell you where the meeting is,” said-the girl quietly. “And as for Jarnoff, I am not afraid of him. If the worst comes to the worst, I have— this,’ and she tapped her gold-mounted gun significantly. “And I know how to use it. Is it a bargain? Do I go with you?” Ted hesitated a moment, and then shrugged his shoulders. He knew it would be no use to argue. The determined set of the girl’s chin was unmistakable, ‘Would you not be afraid to take the word of a gringo?” he asked whimsically. “You have accused me of breaking my word once, you know.” “I would not let you ex- plain,” she replied-after a mo- ment’s thought. ‘There is an explanation ; there must be. I know that now.” 7 “Thank you,” said Ted, a deep note of feeling in his voice. “There is an explana- tion.” And he told her the whole story, freely, “T am glad to see how much you trust me,” replied the girl when he had fin- ished. “Believe me, your confidence is not misplaced.” They proceeded cautiously, keeping to the small, obscure game trails, although they lost many a weary mile by so doing. Several times they had narrow escapes from running into parties of peons, all ap- parently headed in the same general direc- tion. Only their alertness, and the loud talking and laughing of the natives saved them. They talked, when they could safely talk, of many things. They remembered at last to introduce themselves, although | the girl already knew Ted’s name, it seemed. Jarnoff, who knew everything, it appeared, had told her. The girl’s name was expressive of the mingled blood that flowed in her veins: Nora de Arteaga. And with the name, bit by bit, Ted learned the girl’s story. Her father, Lucas de Arteaga, had been Gomicbooks