Adventure Magazine Cover — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

- Willis. se aa ieieenttive “In Ticonderoga,” chuckled Willis. ‘“Mont- calm has enough there to keep all the Indians on the continent drunk for years. All you got to do is to take the fort, kill off the Indians, make the troops prisoners——” With a howl of rage Otway’s man leaped at The latter held up his rifle with both hands to block the rush and quietly refnon- strated: “Nay, nay, man! Not now. Wait a bit till after I’ve found Cap’n Putnam and got my orders. Then if your blood ain’t cooled down we'll see about it. But it weuld be a pity for anything to happen to you when his Majesty needs such rugged fellows so badly.” . The regular stared at him foolishly, puzzled at his grave and commiserating manner. The pause allowed him fully to grasp the signi- ficance of the deer-skin shirt and the stout war-ax in Willis’s belt, and to explore the deep, cool depths of the level gray eyes. “Of course I’m a soldier first,” he muttered, backing away. “You can wait. And oblivious to the quiet smiles he resumed his seat on the town-house steps. Willis remained standing. From the corner of his eye he had caught a flash of color and had could not conceal the sudden rush of blood. He ‘stared incredulously and muttered some- thing under his breath. The tall scout lighted his pipe and quickly discovered the cause of the ranger’s perturba- tion. He grinned broadly and between puffs . informed the other: “That’s ‘Jan the Rogue’s’ gal. Reg’lar wild- fire sort of a gal. Whole town’s talking about - her pranks in New York.” “Jan the Rogue’s girl,” softly repeated Willis. “That’s his Dutch nickname. Dutch is great for nicknames. He’s old Lidindick, trader, and if the truth could be known a —— old smuggler. The Long House says he’s sold powder ’n’ balls to the French to be used against us on the Ohio. They'd like to cure his scalp. | “Funny, though, they all like his gal. She’s been to school and is brought up English. Been iving with her aunt in New York. Raised “hob so that the old lady packed her home to her father. “Officers down there went crazy over her. Officers up here is just the same. Provincial or reg'lar, it don’t seem to make no difference when her petticoats show on the street.” THE girl was now abreast of the gaping group and moving with an ease that bespoke perfect health. She was a rainbow of vivacity in her green cloth petticoat and red and blue waistcoat with its yellow sleeves. The dainty purple ‘‘Pooyse” apron suggested to the ranger that she had not roamed far from her home, The deep tan on his lean face _ When he saw her in New York she had been dressed far differently. Now she was typical of her father’s people. She seemed able to shift from type to type with amazing faithful- ness to detail, but whatever type she portrayed she was at her best. He had been bewildered when in her presence in New York, when sheer luck had thrown him in the way of doig her a service and of being ~ thanked by her. Luck again was bringing them together, and although he knew she was courted by officers of high rank his sturdy spirit would not accept that fact as a handicap to his better acquaintance with her. As he marveled at the radiance of her face and the lithesome swing of her young form he, - knew he must see and talk with her if he would take a stout heart north in his task of out- witting Montcalm’s hair-dressers. To his comrades’ astonishment he trailed his long rifle and started diagonally across the broad street - to join her. She quickened her pace ‘without glancing in his direction, and he grumbled— “She has the speed of a wolf.” On gaining the sidewalk and the shelter of. the shade-trees, however, she loitered and al- lowed him to come up to her. “My unknown hero of New York,” she lightly greeted him after one keen glance through the twilight. “Ephraim Willis, of Connecticut, but just now from the Monongahela,” he awkwardly rejoined, removing his heavy cap and revealing a mass of perspiring locks. “Now detailed as ranger under Cap’n Putnam.” “Very interesting, Ephraim Willis,” she lisped. ‘And why do you follow me?” “T guess you don’t remember,” he faltered. “We met in the Blue Swan tap-room in New York last March. You’re Elizabeth Lidindick, and were visiting your aunt, Miss Patrick. I’m Ephraim Willis——” “My hearing is excellent,” she broke in. “Please don’t tire yourself by saying it all over again. But when one meets a maid in a tap- room one shouldn’t have the bad taste to re- mind her of it. I’ve been sent home in disgrace for that prank. Am I to pay penalty to you?” “God forbid I should make you feel un- happy!” he cried. “I mentioned it. so* you might remember me by name. I followed you because I’m a fool. I have forest wit, but no town wit.” “You had rare wit or courage that night in the tap-room,”’ she conceded. “But you don’t take advantage of that to form my acquaint- ance?” “T was fool enough to think you might like to speak to me,” was the angry retort. “When you remind me of my disgrace why should I want to speak to you?” she coldly demanded. Gomichbooks: €O sau re