Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

84 “Queer,” said Knowlton, looking again at the canoe out on the water. “Gun-running?” suggested McKay. “Nope,” Tim contradicted. “I thought o’ that, but Joey says they’s nothin’ to it. They watched this sauerkraut close, and he don’t never git no guns from nowheres. Besides, they’s nobody up there to run guns to but Injuns, and them Injuns are so wild they don’t want no guns; they stick to the bow and arrer and such stuff, which they sure know how to use. Whatever his game is, he plays a lone hand as far’s this town knows. Got no pals here, and nobody wants ’ . to walk on his corns.”’ ‘““May be perfectly all right, too,’’ mused Knowlton. “A little gold cache or some- thing—though he said there was none in this region. Oh well, what do we care? We have our hands full with our own busi- ness, and all assistance is appreciated.” An hour drifted past. Men of the town lounged by, looking curiously at the stran- gers, some nodding and voicing a friendly ‘“‘Boa dia.” Women too watched them from windows and doors, and children slyly peeped around corners until something more important—such as a cat, a goat, or a gorgeous butterfly—came their way. Tim went inside and slicked up a bit by button- ing and lacing his clothes and combing his rebellious hair. At length a long boat put out from the farther shore and came surging across the sun-gleaming river. “Handle themselves well,’ McKay ap- proved, noting the easy grace of the crew. In the bow a tall slender fellow stood with arms folded, balancing himself to the sway — of the rather clumsy craft and watching the water ahead. In the stern, on a little plat- form whence he could look over the heads of the others and catch any signal from the lookout, a squat dark-faced steersman lounged ‘against his crude tiller. Between these two the paddlers stood, each with one foot on the bottom of the long dugout and the other on the gunwale, swinging in non- chalant unison as their blades moved fore and aft. Under the curving roof of a rough- and-ready cabin, open at the sides to allow tree play of air, Schwandorf lolled like some old-time barbarian king. Down to the landing-place trudged the three Americans, and there the employers and the prospective employees looked one another over with interest. Eight men had come with Schwandorf, and a hard gang Adventure they were. The bowman, hawk-nosed, slant-eyed, black-mustached, with hairy chest showing under his unbuttoned cotton shirt, had the face and bearing of a bucca- neer chieftain; and the effect was intensi- fied by a flaring red handkerchief around his head and the haft of a knife protruding from ' his waistband. The rowers behind him, though ot varying degrees of swarthiness and height, all had the same sinewy build, the same bold stare, the same. devil-may-care insolence of man- ner; and though none but the _ look- out wore the piratical red around his brow, more than one knife-hilt showed at their waists. The steersman, whose copper-brown skin and flat face betokened a heavy stfain of Indian blood, gazed stolidly at the Ameri- cans with the unwinking, expressionless eyes of a snake. Back into the minds of McKay and Knowlton came Schwandorf’s words— “Men not afraid of ——or high water.” They looked it. “Here they are,’’ announced the German, stepping ashore deliberately. “Jose, the puntero—’ His hand indicated the lookout “‘__Francisco, the popero—’’ pointing to the steersman “‘—and six bogas. Good men.” McKAY ran a cold eye along the om | line of faces, his gaze plumbing 8 each. Under that chill scrutiny the third man’s stare wavered and dropped. That of the next also veered aside. The rest fronted him eye to eye. ‘“‘Two of them will not do,” he asserted in the brusk tone of a.captain inspecting his company. ‘‘Numbers Three and Four— fall out!” Literal obedience would have put Three and Four into the river, wherefore they stood fast. But, though they did not quite understand the meaning of the words, they grasped the fact that they were not wanted. One laughed impudently, the other slid a poisonous glance at the bleak-faced officer. The squat Francisco scowled. So did Schwandorf. ‘“‘No man who cannot look me in the eye is needed on this trip,” McKay declared. ‘‘Also, six men are enough. If necessary we will bear a hand at the paddles ourselves. Jose, you have been told by Senhor Schwan- dorf what we want?” AY) 9) DOOLK C@