Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

Powder Law ricochet off the barrel-of his rifle and buzz across the room like an angry bee. “Ho, ho, ho!” chortled Frenchy. “De dance she is begin, Blaze. I’m hope she don’t all dance from your side, biccause my feet she’s itch for git busy.” | Blaze fired and was rewarded by a yell from the barn. “Ba gosh, you don’t miss dat feller,” chuckled Frenchy. “I’m can tell de yelp from de ol’ Sharp’s bullet. She’s - Thump! A bullet tore through the mud . chinking of the cabin near Frenchy’s win- dow, and Blaze turned to see Frenchy with both hands clapped to his face, dancing a circle. He sprang across the room and grasped Frenchy’s arm. “Where'd it hit yuh?” he asked. “De —— mud-daubers t’row dirt in my eye! Go back to your own side. Dis feller be-long to me, ba gosh!” The squaw had sat down on the floor at the end of the room and watched the two men. She glanced at the wall, where a bullet tore’into some medicine bottles on a crude shelf, but there was neither wonder nor anxiety in her face. Frenchy crouched flat against the wall, leaning out far enough to fire and then leaning back to reload. Vay @, now, as the Black Mora crowd found points of vantage, and they searched the house with lead from every angle. Blaze was shooting methodically, while Frenchy grew voluble with French epithets and drilled his initials on a shed door, where three men had fired at his window from a loop-hole in the logs. Two men had attempted to reach the door of a small building about sixty yards from Blaze, but both of them failed. Blaze could see no reason for any one sacrificing his life to reach this building. Another man had come in from the rear of this build- ing, which was built on such an angle that Blaze could only see the front and one side, and had sneaked in on the far side to the front. His hand shot out in an attempt to lift the barred door, in which attempt he had succeeded, but Blaze shot carefully and the man’s hand went out of commission. The heavy door swung open, but no man seemed foolhardy enough to try to reach the shelter of the interior. Luckily for both Blaze and Frenchy the THE attack was growing stronger bullets were all coming from one direction. There was no cover from one side, conse- quently they were able to stay close to the window without danger of cross-fire. The remaining panes of glass were long since gone and the casing and log-ends on one side of each window had been chewed to a pulp with rifle bullets. OccdSionally a bullet would splinter through the doors, but the thick seasoned wood mushroomed the soft lead until it was practically harmless. “De gun she get hot,” observed Frenchy, grinning across at Blaze. “How many you get?” Blaze shook his head. “TY dunno, Frenchy. I’ve got two down in sight and I put a bullet through one feller’s hand. Couple more I kinda figured to ache up a little, but they seem to keep shootin’.” “Y’m not got none for sure.” Frenchy seemed downhearted over this fact. “I’m got t’ree inside de little house, one behin’ a pile of poles, and anodder one she’s get in hole in de ground. T’m mak’ tink Frenchy Ditteau poor shot.” He leveled his rifle and fired again. “Ho, ho, ho! De sonn of a gonn she try to come out of de hole. I’m mak’ bet she’s change her mind.” Blaze nodded and grinned. His rifle barrel was so hot he could hardly hold it. Suddenly the squaw got.to her feet. She sniffed at the air. Blaze watched her. “Fire come,” she said slowly. ‘‘House afire.” © Blaze sniffed, but the room was hazy with powder smoke. “T smell,’ stated the squaw. Mora set house on fire.” “The same of which complicates things,” observed Blaze. “Ym mak’ tink we trapped,” said Frenchy. ‘Mus’ go way pretty soon, Blaze.” A trickle of smoke began to show under one of the connecting doors and Blaze stepped over to smell of it. “Wood smoke, Frenchy. fire to our little fort.” Blaze stepped back to his rifle, but there was no one in sight. Frenchy peered out of his window, but there was no sign of his targets. Black Mora had decided to smoke out his quarry. Blaze watched the squaw walk to the farther corner of the room, where she dragged a crude bunk away from. “Black They’ve set COmicloooks 149. (C@