Adventure Magazine Cover, December 18, 1919 — page 176: what you’re looking at

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

ree Wow ant oe eal ok ot. a. \ Cede Riceans’ , sted eee Yi AN Wart) “a4 : (ifs forces. 162 “T’m poor company,” I replied. “Well, I’m going away. I’ve brought you the. keys to the post. Angus will stay there till you come to take over things.” “You going—” I whispered, feeling this was the end of the world. ““Goitig back East,” she pleasantly ex- plained. interest you.” I must have looked my stupidity, for she . patiently explained: “The N. W. and the X. Y. have joined I’m to turn over everything to you.”’ , “When did you learn this?” I cried. “When I stopped at the H. B. camp at the Forks and found an X. Y. express there. He was on his way to me with a message from the X. Y. headquarters. Simon Mc- Tavish is dead. Sir Alexander McKenzie is now willing to combine. There is no X. Y. Company. It’s the North West Com- pany now.’ This was astounding and most welcome news. It would make it possible for N. W. Northmen to bring the Indians back to their senses. I said— “When do you eo?” : “Soon. In a day or so. There’s a Summer brigade coming down che Assin- iboin. The Pillager is to paddle me to the Forks.” I rubbed my head and forced myself to reason a bit. Then I knew what had puzzled me and I asked— “Tf you knew about the coalition when “The coalition doesn’t seem to. Adventure you reached the Forks, why did you keep on up to the X. Y. post and wait two weeks before telling me?” She turned away abruptly, with more of her aloofness, I assumed. I stepped out on the strip of sand and picked up the paddle she had dropped. Then, turning, I surprized her stealing a glance at me. Never could a Sioux knife in grating - through my ribs give me such a pang as did sight of the two ttars rolling down her cheeks. I gaped, then seized her hand and waited a second to make sure my medicine was right. She did not offer to draw away. Very slowly I drew her to me. “What made it wrong the other time was because you hadn’t first told me that you loved me,’’ she whispered. BROWN river rushed over southern horizon, dotted with the brown carcasses of its shaggy victims, bringing the breath of menace from the country of the Sioux, where the opportune coming of the Lewis and Clark expedi- tion up the Missouri gave me my chance to help the English girl. She always held it was not right—the way the fur trade was conducted. And I always sat silent and let her have her own way of thinking. As I grew older I realized it was a beautiful way she had of thinking. Being a North- man, I didn’t agree with her in my thoughts. But now, since she’s gone away on the river that is always calling, I wonder, ~~ THE END the (E00) I00K