Adventure, February 1917 — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

es The One Way Out 25° “The’ must be a way out. The’ has to be. [ll make a way out.” ‘With all that proof ag’in ye? With the’ whole world ag’in ye?”’ sobbed Sally King. Then, as an afterthought: “You hain’t used to fightin’, Charley. It’s not in yore line.” | “Fightin? with what?” said Hale. ‘Fightin’ with fists and knives and guns? Them’s the littlest, cheapest ways on God A’mighty’s ’arth to fight, Sally! . Anybody can do that kind o’ fightin’. I’m a-goin’ to fight big Linderman McNabb with jest my brains—big Linderman McNabb and his two guns! You go on back to the camp, Sally, and don’t you worry none. And— listen here: I’m li’ble to want to see you, and when I do I’ll sneak up in the laurels clost to the camp clearin’ and whistle like a scrooch-owl—a long and a short, a long and a short. But ef the’s any danger, ye needn’t to come, and rickollect that.” “‘And ef I want to see you,” replied Sally, “T’ll put a light in the window o’ my room. You can see it day or night. Vl meet ye in the laurels some’eres.” Their plans went no farther than that. They rose, and a wood-thrush that had been singing in a tree overhead flew rapidly away. Sally took half a dozen steps toward the camp, stopped, blushed and looked back- ward. “Have ye forgot anything, Charley?” Hale went to her, embraced her and kissed her twice. %*° BY THE coming of nightfall, Hale had an idea. It was a big idea, and “ae the help of Super Bill Cooley would be necessary. Hale wondered if Cooley would trust him sufficiently to lend his as- sistance to the rather daring plan. Cooley had liked him, he remembered, and he de- cided to run the risk. So he crept down to the edge of the clear- ing, walking carefully through the thick laurels, feeling his way in the blackness— and then he saw that there was a lighted os on a table that stood at Sally’s win- ow! She wanted to see him! What had hap- pened? MHale’s heart went to his throat, but not altogether from fear. He whistled in imitation of the mournful night cry of a shivering owl, a long and a short, a long and a short, and in another minute Sally touched his arm. Se “What is it,-honey?” he asked breath- lessly.. “What's happened?” Sally held toward him a bundle in a news- paper wrapping. _ “T wanted ye Mave simian’ to eat, Charley,” she said sweetly, and the bundle of food was suddenly caught between them and pressed flat. “Listen here,” said Hale, a moment later: 139 “vou sneak to Bill Cooley and bring him : to me, and don’t let nobody see ye. I’ve thunk up somethin’, Sally.” Sally slipped away in the darkness, and ._— : Hale began to unwrap the bundle of food. Come to think of it, he was hungry. A quarter of an hour later Sally returned, and following her came the superintendent. Cooley sat down on the leaves close to Hale, and Hale gave an outline of his plan. “I’m afraid it won’t work,’ frowned Cooley. = “Won’tework! tered Hale. “But hain’t the’ a resk to take “Maybe it won’t,” mut: “ anywhars, with anything? I tell ye, Super Bill, Linderman McNabb is a coward when he-ain’t got his guns. He’s a bluffer, and a bluffer is allus easy bluffed. Well, we'll try it, won’t wer” eYes, ” nodded Cooley finally. “But I’m afraid you'll get your light put out.” That night big Linderman McNabb sat_ in the commissary and told stories until closing time—stories of wild Indians, Mexi- can outlaws and horse thieves, and in each and every instance he played himself up as a hero. Those who heard him talk believed — him, for his manner was convincing; per-— haps they wondered what poor little Jesse James would have done had he been so -un- fortunate as to meet up with big Linder- man McNabb. Then the bluffer went % his lone and lone- _ some cabin, lighted an oil lamp that sat on a home-made table in the center of the room, and shed his outer clothing. He took a belt and a pair of holstered revolvers from under the floor and left the floor-board out, hung the belt and its weapons on a nail in the log wall at the head of his bed, blew out - the light and crept between his blankets. Ten minutes later he was snoring. Ten more minutes, and a slim, dark figure crawled under the floor of the old cabin and entered by way of the hole. This fig- ure moved slowly, slowly, and made no more noise than a spirit would have made; it straightened, and its two hands found + S (E©) Gomichoo