Adventure Magazine Cover — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

34 struggle. His face is all lined. Oh, I do hope he'll win out.” The mother’s lips tightened. “Ves. he is a very nice young man. Stil), he’s getting more uncouth than he used to be. He must be associating with some very crude people.” way to see one of the crude people. This particular barbarian was re- covering his health amazingly. “How do you feel?” was Tom’s first question. “First-rate, only weak. I reckon I'll walk around the room a couple times and call it a day.” Tom gave Pete two more days of happi- ness and rest. Then he let the blow fall. Pete was strangely quiet. For two minutes there was silence. When Pete finally spoke his voice rumbled as from his boots. “T’]] blow the top of his head off. Gimme my gun.”’ “Not that. Think of some other way.” Pete glared at his partner and snarled from set teeth: “You stand out from under. I'll handle this.” Tom had to head him off. The younger man had learned his lesson. “Look here. Suppose you shoot Mar- kum. The work at the mine will stop before it begins. Markum’s head of the com- pany. Owns half the stock. If he’s out of it the company has to reorganize. It takes time. Cool down and think it over.” “What?” roared Pete. ‘You'd let that crook go free?” Ws AT THAT moment Tom was on his “No. I won’t desert my crowd at Esca- lante, either.” “All right. What do you want to do?” “Let him alone till the mine’s working.” “Then what?” *“T don’t know. “Lawsuit, He ‘“‘All right. Go ahead and shoot him. Undo all my work at Escalante. Tie up the company. ions worthless. Let our friends starve. Make ’em go back to the hold-up business.”’ Pete sat on the bed. He clenched and unclenched his gnarled old hands. He looked helpless and hopeless and miserable. The dream of his life had gone glimmering and he blamed himself. Lawsuit, maybe.” Make my note for provis-. Adventure Realization smote him like a club. It shattered his self-reliance. In an instant he was just a tired, dejected old man. “T reckon you’re right, Tom,” he qua- vered. “I give up.” “Don’t do that,” advised Tom gently. ‘““We’re not dead yet, are we?”’ “Heh? Mebbe! not. Mebbe not. I dunno. How much money you got?” ‘*Just a few dollars.”’ ‘Same here. I'm wonderin’ how we’re goin’ to git along.”’ “I’m wondering, too. somehow. We have to.” “You're goin’ back to Escalante in the mornin’?”’ We'll make it “Ves. You follow along as soon as you y9 can, “Um. All right. I'll see you in the mornin’.”’ Tom caught the dismissal. ‘What are you going to do?” Pete arose violently. “I’m a-goin’ to take a walk. —— it, I want to walk, walk, walk. These here walls stifle me. I want to git out. I want to think. Let me alone. Lemme have it out with myself.” “All right, Pete. You're not well enough; but it’s better to get it out of vour system. I'll see you tomorrow. You'll promise to let Markum alone?” “T give you my word, Tom.” When Tom left, old Pete donned hat and coat, brushed past an interne who tried to stop him, and strode out of the hospital. He was boiling, seething, sizzling. Though it was nearly ten.o’clock at night he pounded along the pavement as if goaded by many devils. He lost track of time and distance. He passed streets where cables rumbled dully in their slots. He crossed a stately lamp-lit avenue and stalked through dark streets. He came to where the ominous surf of the Golden Gate boomed beneath his feet, and the faraway lights of the Marin shore stared at him coldly. He turned about and swung past rows of poverty-stricken houses, thinking of his own poverty. He strode through the Barbary Coast, immune to its tawdry lures. He swung up a dark street. Two black forms approached, but he did not notice them. He was befogged by his own dark thoughts. He strode along till a curt voice awakened him. COmicloolks CO