Adventure Magazine Cover — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

90 “Funny that complete strangers should hanker for your blood.” “Funny? You bet! I wake up in the middle of the night and laugh when I think about it.” A broad grin expanded the miner’s face. ‘““You’re a queer cuss. If you’ve got a dish in your blanket roll pitch imto the bacon. If you haven’t one, use mine.”’ Hale produced his tin plate and the bacon and some hardtack were divided. After they had eaten and had filled their pipes the miner asked— “The Helm gang cleaned you out, huh?” “About two miles below here. Skinned me clean. Had my guns tucked inside my shirt like a derned fool and never had a chance. Still they was pretty decent. Mistook me for you and had to have some- thing for their trouble; but they let me keep the mareandmyguns. [ain’t kicking.” “Lucky they didn’t git me _ penned! They’d burned the truth out of me about the gulch if they’d tried tickling my feet.” After a brief pause he continued, pal ig ce talking free to you because you’re a white man. Come in with me and I’ll make your fortune. I ain’t got nary a relation in the whole world. I ain’t got any use for dust cept to buy whisky and tobaccer. There’s enough for the whole basin. I’m gitting scared in my old age. They’ll snag me sure some day; then they'll tickle my feet and I'll tell the truth, and then they’ll wipe me out. Next time I quit the gulch it'll be for good. Ill make the coast by the Mullan road. You’ll be welcome to what I’ll be leaving. Heap of it, too.” “Thanks. But I can’t do it. I’m being hunted. They'll kill the man they find me with. Up north of the Clearwater I have friends, both red and white. Strangers are soon spotted and I’ll have a chance to put up a fight. If I win out Ill remember your offer and play gunman for you if you re the same way of thinking.” “You must feel mighty squeamish about these unknown fellers when it makes you pass up the best placer in Idaho. And to do it at that when you’re cleaned out.” “They started after me years ago when I was a boy. It was an awful jounce to me, being a kid. I was scared nearly crazy. All I thought of was crawling off to the mountains and hiding. It’s hard for to remember that I’m grown up. The boy keeps cropping out in me. If I could find Adventure out just who they are I wouldn’t mind so much. Judge Curks at Boise knows ’em, I’m sure. It was the boy’s fear that kept mé in the mountains and with the road- builders instead of mixing with strangers every day in a hunt for gold. I was be- ginning to believe the trail was dead; but to-day I learned better.”’ The miner pulled a heavy bag from under his worn blankets and tossed it across the fire, remarking: “Vou’re broke. Mighty poor plan when you’re running from the devil. Don’t open your yawp like that but take that dust. It’s so much dirt to me. You treated me white. What man’s safe to leave word with in Idaho City as to where we can meet after you’ve shook the skunks off your trail?” Hale promptly replied: “Either ex-sheriff Pinkham, or Jack Gor- man, who used to be a deputy. Both are my friends. Ill remember this dust. It’s mighty neighborly of you.” “The it is! And me offering you half my gulch and you turning it down! Talk to me! Tell me things that don’t have to do with mines and miners. Talk about sheep. Women. Anything ’cept gold.” “T don’t know anything about sheep ex- cept the great horn cores of mountain sheep I’ve found bleaching in the sage. And women? Lord bless you! They’re a new animal to me. I haven’t seen but few white women since I was fifteen. I’ve talked with not more’n a dozen; that is, real white women. All I seem to know is road-building and Injun ways.” “Y’d admire to hear about road-building,” gravely said Lucky Tom and he settled back and puffed his pipe in huge content- ment. So Hale began a narrative of the trials and adventures, attending the construction of the Mullan road. He knew his subject thoroughly and the miner was a hungry listener. He talked for more than an hour. “Tf I could only have you to spout to me in Lost Gulch!” the miner sighed when Hale finished and insisted they should go to sleep. “I reckon why I’m so keen for whisky is the talk that fills the places where it’s sold. I never tote any into the gulch to drink when alone. “Well, you can’t shake me till we reach Idaho City; that’s fact.” GoOMmMiGpoo S (©) iin