Adventure Magazine Cover — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

~ 92 hadn’t? What then? Where’d you be, Id like to know? Nawsir, you give them the credit. ‘They deserve it. Well, I’m shore glad yo’re all gonna be rich, Molly. ‘fine. That’s what it is, fine—great. Well, I gotta be driftin’ along. I’m gonna meet Swing in town. We’re ridin’ south Arizona way tomorrow.” “Arizona!” “Veah, we’re goin’ to give the minin’- game a whirl.” “Why—why not give it a whirl up here in this country?” “*Cause there ain’t another mine like yores in the territory. No, we'll go south. Swing wants to go—been wantin’ to go for some time.” “But—but I thought you were going to stay up here,” persisted Molly, her cheeks a little white. “Not—not now,” Racey said hastily. *‘So long, take care of yoreself.” He reached for her hand, gave it a quick squeeze, then picked up his hat and walked out of the house without another word or a backward look. “WHAT makes me sick is not a cent out of Old Salt,” said Racey wrathfully, as he and Swing Tun- stall walked their horses south along the Marysville trail. “What else could yuh expect?” said the philosopher Swing. “We specified in the agreement that it was cows them jiggers was gonna run on the range. We didn’t say nothin’ about mines.’ “We?” repeated Racey. ‘We? You didn’t have nothin’ to do with that agree- ment. Imadeit. It was my fool fault we hadda work all them months for nothin’.” “What’s the dif?” Swing said comfort- ably. ‘“We’re partners. Deal yoreself a new hand and forget it. Tough luck we couldn’t ’a’ made a clean sweep of that bunch, huh?” “Oh, I dunno. S’pose Peaches, Nebraska an’ Thompson did get away. We done pretty good, considerin’. Yuh can’t ex- pect everythin’.” ‘Alla same they’d oughta been a reward for Jack Harpe anyway. Wells Fargo is shore gettin’ mighty close-fisted.” “Jack done better than I thought he would. He never opened his yap about Marie bein’ in that Keeleyville gang.” “Maybe he didn’t know for shore or else too, an’ Bull got his throat cut. It’s Adventure Bull was in that gang If Jack had done any blattin’ about Marie an’ Kee- leyville he might ’a’ had to stand trial for murder right here in this county instead of goin’ down to New Mexico to be tried fora murder committed ten years ago with all that means; evidence gone rusty with age an’ witnesses dead or in jail themselves, most like. Oh, he’ll be convicted, but it eee be first degree, yuh can stick a pin in at.” “T wonder if he did kill Bull.” “I wonder ‘too. Didja know who Bull really was, Swing? Marie’s brother. Yep, she told me about it yesterday.” “Her own brother, huh? That’s a odd he knowed better. number. Alla same I'll bet she don’t miss him much.” “Nor Nebraska neither. He’ll never come back to bother her again, that’s a cinch. Who’s that ahead?” “That” was Molly, waiting for them at a turn in the trail. When they came up to her she nodded to both men, but her smile was all for Racey Dawson. He felt his pulse begin to beat a trifle faster. How hand- some she was with her dark hair and blue eyes! And at the moment those blue eyes that were looking into his were deep enough to drown a man. EP I see you a minute, Racey?” said she Swing immediately turned his horse on a dime and loped along the back trail. Left alone with Racey, she moved her horse closer to his. Their ankles touched. His hands were clasped on the saddle-liorn. She laid her cool hand on top of them. “Racey,” she said, her wonderful eyes holding him, “why are you going away?” This was almost too much for Racey. He could hardly think straight. vt told you—’”’ he said hoarsely. goin’ to Arizona—minin’.” She flung this statement aside with a jerk of her head. “You used to like me, Racey,” she told “We're He nodded miserably. “Don’t you like me any more?” she persisted. He did not nod. Nor did he speak. He stared down at the back of the hand lying on top of his. “Look at me, boy,” she directed. He looked. The fingers of the hand on Gomicbooks (EO)