Adventure Magazine Cover — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

The Lucky Crash As the train came closer Tex saw that it was slowing down, so he felt safe in starting to join the sheriff. He snapped the clip out of his Colt, examined it again to see that it was well-loaded and made sure it was loose in the holster. When he arrived the sheriff was deep in conversation with the conductor, engineer and brakemen. “That’s the lay, Pete,” Trowbridge was . saying when Tex came within earshot. “What we’re aimin’ to do is search the rattle trap you run and see whether that carburetor is on it.” “Don’t you know you’re out o’ Hidalgo County?” queried the conductor quiz- zically. “To with Hidalgo County! Get sassy with me and I[’ll throw you in jail when I get back to McMullen for servin’ a minion o’ the law with bootleg licker three nights ago!”’ “O. K., Bill,” rejoined the grinning rail- road man who came through from McMul- Jen with the Pullman—the rest of the crew carried the train from Chaparville on. “Now, what’s the layout o’ passengers you got from our town, Pete?” The other railroad men crowded closer and Tex listened eagerly. “Only one chance that your man is on,’ returned Wright. ‘“‘There’s a bunch 0’ womenfolks, five McMullen citizens that you’ve knowed since they wore dresses and one smallish red-headed little feller that has a ratty lookin’ face and the brightest pair of eyes I ever see. He’s your hombre, if any.” A young brakeman, eyes wide with excite- ment, broke into the cqnversation jerkily. “When I was runnin’ out o’ El Paso last year that same fellow—I seen him when he poked his head out at Chaparville and asked me where we was—was pointed out to me as Weasel Williams that was up for killin’ old man Corby down to Marfa. You must o’ heard of him, sheriff.” | “Tex, old boy, we’re in luck!”’ roared the delighted old war-horse. ‘I never see this Williams, but he’s one o’ the toughest little eggs in the Big Bend and it’s a mortal cinch* he’s workin’ in cahoots with Fitz- patrick.” “O. K. Let’s go,” grinned Tex, a great load lifting from his mind. “T’ll lead you to his berth and you can haul him out and search him quiet,” said 5I the conductor. ‘He’s only got a small bag as I remember.” The half-dozen men walked swiftly down the track alongside the train and one by one swung aboard the dusty, superannuated Pullman. Wright leading, they tiptoed down the aisle between the faded curtains on either side. They formed in a half-circle around the berth from which no sound came. The railroad “men were excited, the sheriff grimly happy and Tex himself filled with eager expectations. Two or three inquisitive heads popped out from different curtains as the conductor parted the folds of Wilhams’ berth. A surprized curse broke from his lips as he flung the curtains wide. The disarranged berth was empty, and the open window showed the way. MacDowell’s glance darted out to the mesquite beyond the window. ‘There he goes!’’ he shouted and plunged through the circle and down the aisle, careless of the passengers who had been aroused from their slumbers and were de- manding the reason. All six men tumbled off the platform in a heap, the sheriff cursing in prodigious tones. MacDowell’s brain was working like light- ning. “Wait a minute!’ he yelled. ‘‘Listen, ‘sheriff. If we go into the mesquite after him we’re liable to lose him, or else get a couple of these boys shot. The train’s got to go on, anyway. Ill take off, spot this bird, and keep flying over him. You go on to Elmton—it’s only seven miles up— collect a mounted posse,.and my airplane will show you where Williams is. Those extra gas tanks give me three hours in the air yet—You can be back by that time.” The railroad men nodded as they remem- bered their official duties. The sheriff hesitated briefly and then agreed. “He heard our plane and figured the deal,’ he snotted disgustedly. ‘But he’s caught as sure as the Lord made a hop-toad. And if he hasn’t got that carburetor may all my children be sheepherders!”’ “He’s our man,” agreed Tex. ‘““Gus, can you ram this heap o’ junk into Elmton inside of a hour?” demanded the sheriff as the engineer swung up in the cab. “Your airplane ride’ll seem slow!” yelled the excited engineer. Tex was seated in the cockpit by the CORMICGLOOOKS (E@)