Adventure Magazine Cover — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

his gun still cape by the Barrel, and If her outcry destroyed her chances of escape it saved Chuckle-Luck’s adversary from a terrible death, for it stayed Chuckle- Luck’s first thrust, ‘when he had his op- ponent’s life at the point of his knife, and, in the slight pause, a lone rider galloped furiously out of the darkness. Uncle Dick drove back behind the boulder. The newcomer wore a long black cloak and a black mask. He spurred his horse be- tween the dazed duelists, striking a gloved hand into the face of each, and instantly swung his animal about on its hind legs. As he faced the startled group it was with a revolver in each hand. He fired, and Chuckle-Luck yelped and dropped his. shattered ‘knife, his arm tingling. -A second shot and the other duelist cried out as his blade was violently torn from his hand. For a few moments the rider leaned for- ward, his two guns held high, his masked face slowly turning to sweep the alarmed faces raised to meet his gaze. When he spoke it was in a high-pitched voice, almost falsetto in its shrillness, his words coming with a whining intonation. “You miserable curs!” he began. ‘You dare forget my orders and fight among yourselves! You dare frighten that young lady by brawling within her hearing! Chuckle-Luck, come here! Come nearer!” Chuckle-Luck, his arm benumbed by the shock of the heavy bullet against his broad blade, gaped in fear at his master but slowly advanced, sidling along as though striving to hold himself back, yet impelled to go forward. The gang looked on in tense expectation, horrified and yet fas- cinated, and none thinking to lift a hand against the cloaked figure. At last Chuckle-Luck stood at the stirrup, breathing rapidly as if exhausted by much running, his face-twitching as he gazed into the eyes glowing through the slits in the mask. Without shifting his gaze! the bandit leader tossed a revolver into the air and caught it by the barrel. Then, bending to one side to get room for the blow, he smashed the heavy butt between the shrink- ing eyes. Chuckle-Luck, so ready to fight to the death over a "handkerchief, dropped a senseless mass without having dared to raise a hand to guard against the blow. Something like a sigh ran through the group of men. The leader sat motionless, ranged his baleful gaze over the spectators, allowing his glance to dwell for a few mo- ments on each. Then his shrill, whining voice commanded— “Detel, step up here!” Chuckle-Luck’s opponent was something of a craven, for on hearing his sentence he began mouthing incoherent appeals, and even went through the blasphemy of clasping his hands as though praying for mercy. Like Chuckle-Luck he wore several revolvers in his belt, yet he never thought to draw one. Gentleman Ralph spoke only the once. His fierce gaze repeated the order, however, and, after the first frenzied outburst, Detel began advancing, weeping and begging at every step. The grim figure waited, stir- ring not a muscle, till the man stood beside him. Then the improvised club rose and — fell, and Detel dropped across the insensible Chuckle-Luck. ‘Perhaps now we’ll have order in this camp,” wailed the thin voice. Uncle Dick fumbled with his gun, his nerves unstrung at the beastly cruelty of it all. “Yes, that’s how he bosses ’em. It takes his kind to hold such critters to the mark, But what a cold-blooded devil!”’ | WITHOUT further speech Gentle- man Ralph rode his horse to the rear ~/ of the shack and, for a moment, the mountaineer feared he had been discovered, but the leader simply desired to reassure his prisoner. Crowding his horse against the back of the shack he looked in at the small window and, in a reedy treble, com- forted— “You won’t be annoyed again, Miss No-Name.” “Oh, you brute! sobbed the girl. “But I saved two lives. They’d have cut each other into ribbons,”’ he reminded. Then he gave a little cackling laugh that had nothing human about it and added: “They’re hard—bitter hard! Only dis- cipline of the right kind can keep them in line.”’ “You are worse than they! worse!’’ she passionately cried. “Where is there another man who can leave a beautiful young woman alone witha band like mine and come back and ve her unharmed?” he jeered. - You brute!’ piteously So much I€DOOKS:G