Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

42 believe me, there'll be plenty! Plenty!” “You will leave the range. Even though it costs every man on this ranch, including myself.”’ “All right. drop!” “TI do not relish my task, but it will be done.” Curry’s lips curled. “Yeh? Well, if you’re so cocksure, why don’t you take me now, hey?” He leaned forward over the table. “Here I am. You want to turn me over to the sheriff. Why don’t you doit, hey? You’ve It’s on your head. Every got your men at the windows. Go ahead! Start it!’ “Your men are also outside. I do not want an orgy of murder on my porch.” “No. You don’t. Huh! You talk a lot, but when it comes to a show-down you ain’t got the guts!” For once the boss sprang to his feet, en- raged. ‘ | “Get out of here!’ he thundered, pointing to the door. There was a kick to the command, an unexpected vital force which even this gunman felt. It swept him toward the threshold before he thought about disobey- ing. Then he turned in surprise, hesitated, turned away with a shrug, opened the door, - and slammed out. There was an excited mobilization at the doors and windows; but 1t wasn’t necessary. Curry stamped over the porch in a rage. ‘He don’t want no murder on his porch!” snorted the rustler as he vaulted into the - saddle. ‘Huh! drift!’ The cavalcade started with a clatter while the Wilcox men silently watched. The riders turned the corner of the lane and loped up into the cluster of hills that rimmed the little ranch-valley. They got to the top of the ridge. Suddenly the riders whirled their horses, drew their six-shooters, fired. a quick fusillade at the house, and disappeared. The hail of. bullets came unexpectedly. One ripped into a floor planking. One went - through a window and tore a glass apart. Another flicked into a window-ledge. Grant Wilcox was in the doorway at the time. A bullet snapped the cigar out of his mouth and slammed it half through the wooden panel. He pulled another cigar from his pocket and mechanically stuck it into his Come on, fellers—let’s Adventure mouth. There was nothing heroic about it. He merely had his mind on something else. “Get rifles!” he ordered. The boys jumped for the weapons and then streaked for their horses. A Wilcox man on guard in the hills was blazing away in the distance. The boys soon passed him and went onward, disappearing over the ridge. Wilcox took a chair on the porch, under a honeysuckle vine. He was still there when his men returned after chasing Curry for three hours. In all the shooting and hullabaloo no- body was hurt, but Wilcox gained enormous prestige from it. His coolness under fire was inspiring. “He don’t skeer wuth a hoot,” observed Old Man Shay. ‘‘He’s iron, that feller!’’ The iron man had simply been trying to get the best of the other fellows. He hardly noticed: the bullet that clipped his cigar. He forgot about it till next day, when it was too late to be scared. BUT the iron man was a little bit fer, wistful these days. He knew his We wife was alive and unhappy. It tortured him. When he sold his cattle and got the money, he directed certain San Francisco persons to make discreet inquiries in Australia, but that was as far as he could go. The problem had to be worked out very SSG =. = cautiously. Some day Wilcox intended to appear in Australia, but that was for the future. He had the ranch on his hands. He could not turn away. Minden loafed around aimlessly. He was ill at ease at the ranch-house and gradually took to the range again, keeping near his men and cattle. On a solitary trip toward the range he happened to pass by Yellow Valley. Jasper Tibbs and his son were away. Gennerveeve gave him lunch and he sat brooding at the makeshift table in the cool, dark adobe house. A shadow fell across the sunny doorstep. Spurred boots thumped on the threshold. Minden turned casually. Then he jumped. “Curry!” he gasped. Curry peered into the semi-gloom inside. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” ‘‘What do you want?” “Nothin’. I was jest passin’ by. I don’t want no dealin’s with a yaller-livered skunk! Turned right over to the other side, cCoOmicloooks After all she was another man’s wife. C@