Adventure Magazine Cover — page 171: what you’re looking at

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

a Se ea ee * nd ae PT oie a - ‘ & . - > < —_ ~—— Pe Sg ee =~ . a re ogra a ote ee ee ET - S - . we» a — ea eS ee ee ee on ee ee SS Oe eee We ae ~ _ a ot ee ee St ee > ~ gale. Rich Crooks Perhaps they wouldn’t be if he did -not choose the lap dog’s way of keeping his stomach full. This fellow’s jaw stiffened and his eyes popped; his hands were pretty unsteady, and I saw drops of sweat on his forehead. We went through the hall into an old room with a high ceiling. The room ap- peared musty and full of shadows, though the curtains were up and the Autumnal sun was bright. We were greeted by the two old men. I say they were old, though at a glance I saw they were aged by something besides years. Mr Daniel Cornwall I had met be- fore—but then I had worn a mask. He was the elder, the larger, the more decisive, and I didnot doubt at all but that he was the most criminal, though, excepting that his face was flabbyjrather than thin, both men looked somewhat alike. Mr. Joseph Cornwall appeared almost consumptive. I heard him cough frequently. His face was thin, just-skin across bones, his nose prominent anda little twisted. He had a thin mustache that, like a ragged veil, fell over his loose mouth, and the large rimmed ~ glasses accentuated the queerness of his face. His voice was harshly husky. I had not known him except remotely. He had in someway remained entirely outside of my circle of experience during the time I was in Utah. Daniel Cornwall was the dominant character. Their intentions were something more than friendly. I could not imagine what kind of starling Jack had found in that nest of lean owls. Cora did not come into the room until we had been there for some time. I could not guess what those old fellows actually wanted, but I had known all along that they were after something protective from me. I am continually having people after me for one reason or another—and not alone from those who think that my gun is for It would not be easy to count the number of people who dislike me and, as the saying goes, have it in for me. I have enemies that I have never seen, never heard of, since some people hold a grudge against me because their own friends have been hurt —some of them buried. 7 After a few words Joseph mentioned that they too were from the West, as if that put a tribal relation upon us. They sat back with their eyes on me, and Jack impervi- 157 ously rattled on. peating, and they were obviously waiting— for what I did not kriow, but for something ‘probably that would give them opportunity to talk to me alone. Being a fine pair of old schemers, they had already prepared for that. I had noticed the man, the footman who - met us at the door, trying to attract Daniel Cornwall’s attention, when we came into the room, but he had been ignored. Pres- ently he returned and with an obvious effort kept his eyes from me while telling the old fellow, Daniel, that he would like to speak to him on “‘ a matter of great impor- tance, sir.” Daniel looked at him as one might order away a well-trained dog, made a gesture and said— “T’m busy, Quiller. I’m busy.” “Tt might be important,” said Joseph 2 a little nervously to his brother as Quiller re- luctantly turned away, shooting a glance at me. “His nerves are going,” Daniel. growled. ‘This morning he was all excited over some- thing he dreamed.”’ “But Dan——’ the other began, and it was plain that his nefves were also jangled. “Being frightened at every shadow isn’t going to help matters,” said the more aggres- sive Daniel, a very hard expression coming into his face for a second. fee spoke rather testily. I knew that Daniel hada ‘temper, a great amount of resolution, much cunning and no honor. I knew also—one who plays poker for a living knows many things by simply looking into a man’s face—that Joseph was much like him. Finally Cora came in, dressed in a plain, neat tailored suit of dark cloth. She was not at all as I had expected. Notatall. I looked at her very hard. She was of the same type, appearance and manner as a woman whom, some ten years before, I had gone out of my way to help. It was strange, indeed, but I rather liked her at once though I knew she had made a dupe of my cousin. For one thing she wasn’t pretty. And, having that blessing, of course did not think that every man was made to sigh for her, to flirt with her, to hover about her and be satisfied witl’smiles and artificial blushes. It is a great-day in the lives of blond flappers when they learn how to blush by holding their breath. Cora was a blonde but she He said nothing worth re- did: not blush. Her eyes were gray and’ ‘comicbooks..