Adventure Magazine Cover — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

The Torch-Bearers “Cap’n! Cap’n! This feller’s a woman!” Up went my head and a glance told me how the girl had betrayed herself. She had stooped to lift the puncheon and in doing so had lost her hat, and for a second time that day her marvelous hair had fallen over her shoulders to proclaim her sex. And the accident had brought a rush of blood to her face that no man ever dis- played, and which no amount of mud-stains could conceal. With this first weakness her whole de- fense went down. Her eyes, heretofore calm and indifferent, were now shrinking because of horrible fears. The slim figure, so sturdy and self-dependent, so deceiving because of its daredevil swagger, was trem- bling beneath the vulgar gaze of the five men. Rare game, indeed, for Captain Tickridge and his independent command! Scarcely had the sergeant given the alarm than he seized the girl; not to make sure she should not escape, but because she was a woman. Her hands flew to her belt, but the sergeant hooted derisively and tore them away and threw his arms about her slim waist, while his comrades roared in delight. The girl fought him like a wild- cat, bringing more than one curse from be- tween his bearded lips. The two swung across the floor and close to the window and the whole affair came to a climax almost before the stupefied Tick- ridge could dismount. The sergeant held her back in his arms and in reprisal for the furious scratches on his face had one hairy paw under her chin and was forcing her head back until it seemed her neck must snap; and he was rejoicing: “She belongs to me! caught her Then two things happened. Tickridge’s astounded face appeared at the doorway and my clubbed pistol made a dent in the top of the sergeant’s head. Tickridge, on ‘witnessing the blow, bleated with fear and leapéd away from the door. Had the girl been able to crawl through the window we might have made it, for there were several moments when the four men in the cabin were too paralyzed to move, and outside a general confusion rendered the horsemen helpless. But she had been choked al- most to the point of unconsciousness and could only sag back against the log wall and pump for breath. Running around the cabin, I dashed into Rules of war! I nated? 7 a group of men and. flung them aside and made for Tickridge, who stood _half- crouched, his sword raised in a clumsy fashion, his voice bawling out inarticulate orders. “What the —— does this racket mean, sir? And who are you that comes raiding through the province of his gracious Ma- jesty?” I hotly demanded. “We—we caught a woman!” he stam- mered, so taken by surprize at my appear- ance and bearing and fierce queries that he forgot I was alone and should have much explaining to do. “Inside there!’ I yelled. “Let that : wench come out.”’ Then to Tickridge, who was beginning to collect his senses and was gazing furtively at the corner of the cabin to locate my men: “Who commissioned you to catch women when there are Whigs to be extermi- ’s hounds! Do you think his Majesty plans to win this war with women- chasers?” Now came the inevitable query and I had braced myself for it even before his shifty eyes reflected his growing confidence, and even before he found the words. ‘“‘Who are you to be giving orders here?” he asked. “Major Wemyss, sirrah!” I haughtily replied; and the girl, now clinging to. the door-frame, popped open her mouth and stared at me in amazement, and—yes, it was plain enough _to me and gave mea nerve-tingling thrill—with admiration. Captain Tickridge gave ground, his lips opening and closing like a dying fish’s. He managed to remark: ‘In those clothes! No sword! form! Never’d dreamed it!” ‘“‘There’s been too much dreaming here,” I retorted. ‘As to my clothes, blast my life! But how long since his Majesty’s officers must consult raw provincials as to what they will wear?” ‘God forbid I should question his gracious Majesty’s officers,” protested Tickridge. “To what command are you attached?” I asked. ‘“‘I remember no body of troops with your facings.” “From North Carolina. Independent command until I can reach Georgetown and be assigned.”’ Then with a return of his rat-like cunning. “Your troops are near, major? You'll bivouac with us?” No uni- CO MICLOOOKS ©