Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

The Doom Trail CHAPTER XI TA-WAN-NE-ARS UNDERSTANDS “N° WE will go to Murray’s tavern,” I said. “I will ask him if he thinks he canscommit assassination here in the town as he does in the forest.” “Good,” rejoined Ta-wan-ne-ars impas- sively. “I will accompany my brother there.” z I remembered that de Veulle lodged at Cawston’s, and hesitated. “Let my brother Ormerod be at ease,” added the Indian. ‘‘Ta-wan-ne-ars has mastered his hatred.” “Very well,” I replied. ‘I shall be glad of your company, but we must not be tempted to violence. There are reasons for my meekness.”’ “Tt would not be courteous for Ta-wan- ne-ars to slay his enemy in New York when he is the guest of Ga-en-gwa-ra-go,”’ re- turned the Seneca as he walked lightly be- side me. “T, too, hate your enemy,” I said. He was silent for as much as ten paces. “My brother means de Veulle?”’ he asked. “Yes; I once crossed swords with him.” “And he lives! Did he wound my brother?” I recounted briefly the circumstances of the duel at the Toison d’Or. He made no comment until I had finished. “YT am glad my brother spared him,” he said then. ‘For Ta-wan-ne-ars has often prayed to Ha-wen-ne-yu, the Great Spirit, to give him the life of this man who lives as though he were one of the fiends of the Ga- go-sa.™ “Tt is a bond between us that we have the same enemy. We did not need such a bond, Ormerod, but it is a proof that we were meant to be brothers.”’ At the next corner we met the bellman, trotting heavily. ‘“A citizen tells me he hath heard a horrid - screech,” he panted. “Do you know aught——” “Ves,” Ltold him. “TI was attacked by a desperado named Bolling & ‘“‘God save us, I knew there would be mis- chief with that villain in our midst!” inter- rupted the bellman. “There would have been sore mischief done had not this Indian, who is visiting * False Faces. the governor, come to my aid,” I rejoined. “Did you slay the man?” asked the bell- man apprehensively. “No; h¥ fled.” ‘Tis a savage rogue, and a deadly. Gadslife, my master, but you had a fortu- nate escape. I will run to the watch house and give an alarm. Aye, we should have a file of soldiers from the fort. This is no easy task that is set for us. I will : His threats and adjurations died away in the distance, as he hurried on, his regular duties forgotten. “What think you hath become of Boll- ing?” I asked Ta-wan-ne-ars. “He is beyond the city limits, brother. There are no palisades for him to pass, and flight will be easy. He must have had a swift horse in readiness, for he would have been obliged to flee equally had he slain you.” “Will they catch him?” Ta-wan-ne-ars laughed briefly, a trick he had which I afterward discovered to be rare, although not unknown, amongst the In- dians. “Those who are charged with his pur- suit? No, brother; as well might the beaver pursue the wild pigeon. He will be buried in the wilderness tomorrow. But some day Ta-wan-ne-ars will come up with him—or perhaps it may be you, Ormerod. That will be a bad day for the Red Death.” At Cawston’s we looked in vain for Mur-. ray or any of his party in the taproom and ordinary, so without a word to the servants we ascended the stairs to the upper floor. In the hall I halted momentarily, consider- ing which door to knock upon, when the puzzle was solved by the opening of the one by which we stood. My Lady Green Cloak appeared, and she started back in amazement, tinged with fear, at sight of me and the stalwart, half- naked figure of the Seneca, arms folded across his painted chest, his eagle’s-feather reaching almost to the ceiling. I bowed to her. ‘‘Good evening, Mistress Murray,” I said. “I am come with my friend for a word with your father.” “He is engaged,” she answered quickly. “That may be, but I must speak with him on a matter of much importance.” ‘“‘What is that, sir?” She began to recover her self-possession. ' ‘“‘What interest have you in common?” she added. COmiclbook 119° ©