Adventure Magazine Cover — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

A Pot of Gold “Happy days!’ snorted Pete. “Then they sell gals in society like they used to sell niggers down in Tennessee.”’ “Don’t say that. You don’t understand. It’s the game.”’ ‘“‘And the gal stands for it?” Tom was tired of it. “T guess you’ve got me wrong, Pete. Maybe my talk’s sounded too conceited. Maybe I’ve led you to believe that I’ve only got to whistle and the girl will come running. “Tt isn’t like that at all. She’s engaged to a man she likes sincerely. The engage- ment’s announced in public. That’s all there is to it.” Pete’s brows knit. If Pete had been the victim Pete would have pulled San Fran- cisco up by the roots. He couldn’t under- stand Tom’s lack of rancor. Social usage was a critter that had never strayed in Pete’s pathway. ‘“‘“Hadn’t you better: go to the city?” he suggested. “No. I’ve got to watch that mine. We haven’t funds enough for both to go. Besides, I don’t care to go and you do.” “Why in tarnation don’t you take a chance and tell the gal you’re rich anyhow?” ‘We may have a long battle for the mine. Besides, she’s engaged.” “Happy days!” The stage rattled on for another mile, throwing columns of dust rearward. Pete was bewildered and befuddled. This fool society business was outlandish, yet Tom bowed his head in submission to the outrage. To Pete a few sane, natural actions were badly needed. “Does this here gal live in a ty ‘lish house?” asked Pete guilelessly. “Yes. A big English mansion with rose- gardens all around it. It’s on Pacific Avenue almost directly over the Golden Gate. I don’t blame the mother for want- ing to keep it.”’ “Pacific? From all I hear that’s the toughest street in San Francisco.” “You’re thinking of Pacific Street. This is Pacitic Avenue.”’ Pete dropped the subject. He had heard the name of the girl, and now he practically knew the address. Once or twice in the long journeys across plain and mountain-range Tom had men- tioned one Helen Masters guardedly during moments of confidence inspired by moon- light or camp-fire; but neither Tom nor I5 Pete was given to gushing about his deeper feelings, and only Tom’s halting inflection had betrayed his real thoughts about her. Pete never forgot it. And now he knew where she lived. All was well. At the county seat Tom gave his partner a final injunction. ‘Keep away from Pacific Street, Pete. If you do go, bank most of your money be- fore you start. “I’ve given you letters of introduction to Bill Elliott and a lot of other folks. Elliott was a classmate of mine in college. If he can’t help you one of the others will. “When you deal with a promoter, look out. If one of ’enf makes a _ business proposition get into touch with me. We’re willing to meet him half-way but we won’t give him our hides by a long shot.” Tom was not taking such long chances as it might seem. He knew that Pete was only one-half of the partnership, and his actions were not binding unless Tom concurred. Pete was just the scout. Fel registered their claim before a satiri- cal government employee, after which there was a last handshake and the stage down-country clattered around the corner of the rickety county jail and Pete disappeared. Tom. returned next day to Escalante. That night there was jollification in the principal dance-hall, caused by the news that some son-of-a-gun had shot Johnny Finley. The news had come via one of the under- ground sources with which the country abounded. Rumor had it that Finley was lying half-dead somewhere; but that only speeded the celebration. Tom watched it till two sots tried to shoot each other, and then he went to bed. He was lonely. Next afternoon, planning a visit to his mine, Tom happened to pass the dance-hall. Seated on the creaky porch was Jed Hill with his brown-white vest open for coolness. Hill swung from the chair and carelessly crossed Tom’s path. “Howdy,” said Hill. ‘‘How,”’ nodded Tom. ‘“‘Are you the feller in cahoots with Pete Dolliver?”’ ‘‘He’s my partner, yes.” THEY went to the Land Office and COmiclbook C©