Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

The Doom Trail Mountains. Somewhere between those boundaries runs the Doom Trail. There are thousands of square miles of wilderness to search for it.” ‘“‘And the Keepers of the Trail to guard its mystery,” put in Colden. ‘“‘Who are they?” I questioned, as anxious as a small boy for further details. “The Ho-nun-ite-gwen-ne-yuh” he re- peated. “So far as we know, Master Or- merod—and we know only what our agents have been able to learn at second and third hand—they are bands of mercenaries, Canuagas, Adirondacks and Shawendadies, all renegades of the Iroquois, who are re- tained by Murray to protect the Trail. “They roam that belt of forest you saw depicted on the map, and ’tis death for them to find any man, white or red, within it, save he bears Murray’s sign manual. The Indians are a superstitious people, and they have come to believe that there is some supernatural agency behind the Keepers of the Trail. In plain English, they fear the Trail is haunted.” “By what?” He shrugged his shoulders. “You would have to make a more pro- found study of their folk-lore than I have been able to in order to comprehend the precise gist of their belief. But they tell us that the False Faces, a race of demons from the underworld, to whom Murray has sold his soul, have rallied to his aid.” “Ridiculous!” I exclaimed. “No doubt,” assented the surveyor- general; “but the superstition is a factor in the problem.” ‘At every turn we run against the shrewd- ness and wit of this fellow Murray,” ex- ploded the governor. “Tis at once a trib- ute to his ability, and perhaps an index to our inferiority, that we have never been able to secure certain information of his opera- tions.” “°Tis evident, your Excellency,” I ven- tured, “that the Lords of Trade will accept only positive evidence that he hath evaded the law.” “That means legal proof of smuggling,” reflected the governor. ‘And now that the Lords of Trade have suspended our law, his operations are no longer illegal, strictly speaking,” said Col- den. “But I make no doubt he will con- tinue to handle the bulk of his goods over mae Doom Trail, for he will not care to have 113 his dupes in the province realize the enor- mous tribute they pay to France through him.” ‘‘The suspension of the law may well be permanent,” I suggested. ‘‘ "T'was Master Juggins’ conviction that Murray would scatter bribes right and left, at home and in London, to win his point. And he hath the French Treasury to draw upon.” Governor Burnet brought his fist down upon the table with a thud. “‘Gadslife!”’ he swore. “There is naught for it but war! We must be after the dog! We must run him down! He hath Govern- ment at his orders. If he continues much longer as he doth today he may secure a petition to his majesty for my recall.” He sank back in his chair and stared re- flectively at the map which was still spread out between us. “Tt shall be done, gentlemen,” he said more quietly after an interval of several minutes. “But we must move unofficially. What say you, Colden?” “We can do nothing with official ‘Sup- port, ” rejoined the surveyor-general, “and ’tis probable we shall receive the instruc- tions of the Lords of Trade to suspend the law by the next Bristol packet.” ‘There can be no question of that,” agreed the governor. ‘Well, the law shall be suspended. I will have the suspension publicly proclaimed. We must affect to mourn deeply over it. Aye, that is the course to pursue. Murray will grow bolder with his success, and we must put him off his guard.” He turned the pages of Juggins’ letter. ‘Then under cover we must concert the measures to be taken. That will be for Master Ormerod. Do you still crave the opportunity, knowing now the full measure of its perils, sir?” “T am more anxious, if possible, sir,” I answered. ‘‘Master Juggins was good enough to think I had the qualities for the venture. As you will have read, I have spent some years at Versailles and St. Germain. I speak French sufficiently well to pass on the frontier for a Frenchman. As for danger—why, your Excellency, the man who has ruined his life can have no fear for it. He has all to gain and nothing to lose.” “True,” assented the governor. ‘But you know nothing of woodcraft or the life amongst the savages.” C© MICLOOKS CO