Adventure Magazine Cover — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

A Pot of Gold At the foot of a central hill stood a monu- ment of rocks carefully piled, and above this poor tribute to the late Jessica was a ledge that ran across the center of the hill and partly into the next one. The ledge did not look like much. Just rock. But if a person examined a piece closely he would notice the glint of tiny yellowish particles. The claim was almost unbelievably rich. Tom examined a location-notice on Jes- sica’s monument and then went over cer- tain other boundary-marks, assuring him- self that the claim was ready to file on at any time. After that he busied himself col- lecting rock most of the day. He started for camp at mid-afternoon. He traversed the quiet cafion and ascended the mesa, then went up to the shoulder of the mountain. A rattlesnake sang at him. He avoided the coiled terror and watched it writhe away. “BEEN workin’ your mine?” came a voice behind him. ule? Tom whirled and looked into cold, sneering eyes set close together in a young face prematurely old. In the youth’s slim hand was a six-shooter with ther muzzle pointed straight at Tom’s chest. Tom slowly elevated his hands. “T guess you may not file on that claim after all,’ came the young man’s high- pitched voice. ‘‘Mebbe I need it more’n you do.” Tom was bewildered. He was off his guard, and the young desperado’s knowl- edge stumped him. ‘“‘How—why—what makes you think I’ve got a claim?” he demanded. The little rascal’s slack mouth curled in a malicious smile. ‘‘A birdie told me,” he replied. a lot of things. Gimme that gun.” He reached forward and jerked Tom’s six-shooter out of its holster, throwing the thing away. He had plenty of weapons. . They stuck all over him. Tom had regained some of his poise. “What’s this all about?’”’ he demanded. “All about? Huh! Quit joshin’.” The little killer quoted Pete’s words sar- ' castically: “Tf you see anybody follerin’ you walk him all over creation. All but Johnny Fin- ley. When Johnny’s with you, better ’tend to business.” “Told me - 7 Tom knew what he was dealing with. This Finley youth was one of those half- humans born without mental capacity to realize a moral code. He was classed as a dangerous bad-man. In reality he was a defective with a receding jaw, and more of a menace than the worst bully in the coun- try. No one could figure what he would do next. = Tom knew he had been overheard and tracked. if overheard, it must have been the night before, when Pete was talking about the mine. It must have been by accident. Neither Tom nor Pete knew the man except by hearsay, and he had no reason to cross their trail except through coincidence. There- fore he must have been loafing near the water-hole when the conversation was held. All these things flashed through Tom’s mind in a second. He knew he was trapped, but he didn’t know exactly the extent of the trap. Hours had passed since the night before. Finley perhaps had time to visit friends of his ilk who prowled around the country. Had he told them of the mine or had he kept it to himself? Had word of Tom’s big find passed among cutthroats and scoun-, drels already? If so, what chance had Tom and Pete to win out? To the former the chances looked slim enough right now. The black muzzle of the six-shooter, held by a vicious hand, brooked no argument. “Oh, Dll walk, all right!” grunted Tom. The young criminal produced tobacco and paper with a quick motion while still. holding the gun and rolled a cigaret with his unoccupied hand. His present temper was cocky and self-satisfied. ‘Sure you will,” he agreed. “I guess me and you understands each other. ‘ Now start.” Tom started, growling over his shoulder— ‘“T’ve heard of enterprise; but you take the cake.” ‘“Meanin’ what?” “The other hold-up men don’t rob a fel- low till he has something to rob. You grab him almost before he gets it.” The young outlaw took it as a compli- ment. ‘“That’s me,” he agreed complacently. “T’m Johnny on the spot. Hafta be in this country.” “Yes; you’ve got a lot of competition.” Comicbhook C©