Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 171: what you’re looking at

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

_Powder Law The woman nodded and compressed her lips. “T can try to describe the old man,”’ vol- unteered Blaze. But the woman got to her feet with a gesture of dissent. She leaned on the table for a moment and then turned, with her back to the table, her hands behind her and looked at Blaze. “Vou heard what happened to Jack Wheeler?” she asked slowly. Blaze nodded. “Ma’am, it was awful—it sure was.” She bit her lips as if to keep back the tears and walked back to the door. “T want to thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for answering my question, and —and for taking off your hat to me.” - She lifted the bar before Blaze could assist her and slipped out into the street. Blaze dropped the bar back into place and looked at Frenchy who had never spoken while the woman was in the room. “Whatcha know about that?” wondered Blaze. Frenchy whittled some tobacco from his plug and filled his pipe. He tamped the tobacco carefully and lit a sulfur match. “Can’t yuh talk?” asked Blaze. Frenchy nodded his head. “Sure, ’'m mak’ talk, Blaze, but first I’m mak’ t’ink. W’at you suppose she’s tak’ Black Mora’s gun for, eh?” “Black Mora’s gun?” parroted Blaze and stepped over to the table. The holster was empty. “‘She’s tak’ it when she’s back against de table,” explained Frenchy. “Why didn’t you stop her?” Frenchy puffed thoughtfully. “Blaze, de woman no steal for de val-ue of de gun, ba gosh. De woman know some- t’ing. Mebbe she’s need gun. Mebbe she’s tak’ Black Mora’s. gun biccause his gun be de handies’, eh?” “Suppose he comes after his gun, Frenchy? We ain’t got no right to keep his gun.”’ Frenchy shook his head. “Non. We got no right, Blaze, but ’'m not worry. When Black Mora come for de gun, I’m mak’ t’ink I’m kill Black Mora. Chuck Sales she’s wort’ while for de fight; Beel McKeever she’s suppose to be big man, but I’m got not’ ing against dem two out-law. I’m A heavy hand banged against the door. There was nothing timid about this knock. “‘Who’s out there?”’ asked Blaze. 169 A voice answered, saying something about Delaney, the rest of it being drowned by the noise from the dance-hall. Blaze cautiously opened the door. A man was standing there, his face shaded from the light. The light was behind Blaze and Frenchy, which left their faces in the shadow. ‘What was it?” asked Blaze. “Delaney wants yuh to come to his house,”’ stated the man. ‘The Wheeler woman wants to talk to yuh.” The man half-turned his head Soman the dance-hall as he finished his message. Without a sound, Frenchy sprang through the doorway into the man, and both of them crashed to the ground. For a moment Blaze was stunned at the suddenness of Frenchy’s actions, but sprang to his assis- tance. The man twisted and cursed, but the | little Frenchman had pinned his arms. Blaze removed the man’s gun and they dragged him inside and closed the door. The man sat on the floor and stared at them. Blaze let the full light of the lamp fall upon the man’s face. It was the man whom Frenchy had booted at Cinnamon -Creek; the man with mouse-colored hair and empty eye-socket. He stared at them, wonderingly, his eye wide open with fright. It suddenly occurred to Blaze that Mex Free had been killed before telling Mora that the two men had not been burned in the ranch-house fire, and that this man did not know until now. The man’s forehead had come in contact with the ground, and a trickle of blood was running into his remaining eye, but he made no move to wipe it away. He seemed bereft of motion or understanding. “Tm never forget de man I’m kick,” stated Frenchy. ‘“She’s plant de trap, Blaze.” “Delaney wants to see me, eh?” asked Blaze. The man looked at Blaze, but did not affirm nor deny the question. Frenchy leaned over the man, shoving his bearded face close and peering into the one eye. “Who sent you to lie?” asked Frenchy harshly, but the man was dumb. His eye stared straight ahead, as if visioning the punishment he expected. Frenchy stood up and looked at Blaze. “W’at you t’ink, Blaze? Dis is Black Mora’s man for sure. She’s bring de mes- sage to come and see Delaney. Delaney never send him, ba gosh!” ; NOOK = a (C@ (C@