Adventure Magazine Cover — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

® For Wounding—Retaliation unseen. Don’t worry,” he added; “they'll never get away! You will understand in a moment.” Around on the north face the butte was split from top to bottom by a wide crack. The guide piloted Crockett and his deputy, Matt Barker, into the crevasse for some seventy feet. Just after turning an “elbow” he stopped and slapped the wall with his hand. “‘Here’s the cache!’’ he declared. Crockett’s. powerful electric torch re- vealed nothing but great slabs of rock, standing on end against the main wall. ‘The Pima grunted— “Behind the slab!” » And Crockett, after one look, grinned happily. At least, that’s how he felt, although his expression more nearly resembled that silent lift of the upper lip which the great lobo wolf gives when his quarry is sighted. “Good boy!” he gloated, then added, Now what?” | The Pima made an about-face. “Back around the bend,’’ he directed. Here the light revealed a number of size- able boulders. Crockett. and Barker promptly took cover, and then the Indian, cuddling his shot-gun like a baby, slipped away into the darkness, to take up a position outside and some yards away from the entrance to the crack in the butte. - An hour and a half passed. Two hours. Then— “Well, we’re here!”’ in a harsh voice, and a car stopped fairly in front of ihe crevasse. Two men alighted. Evidently, they were familiar with every inch of their ground. Leisurely and with certitude they passed into the rift and returned heavily laden. Another trip—and as they came out and deposited their loads in their car— “Put ’em up, high!” Few words and short, but they mean a lot. Neither of the runners was a quitter. _ That swiftly became manifest. With surprizing unanimity they whirled —their hands came up—but, each held a blazing, spitting automatic! The audacity of it was well-nigh un- believable! It was a direct violation of the rules promulgated by “Mr. Hoyle,” of revered memory. of “the drop’”—only men too desperate to care to live if discovered would have taken the chance. Chance? There wasn’t any! So, likewise, the gaunt, gray, giant lobo wolf, when the steel j jaws of the trap close on the foreleg, takes as‘ chance.” And sometimes, but rarely, the miracle. happens. It looked that 7 way this time. Matt Barker gave a queer yelp, and his body crumpled up and slumped into a shapeless, dark heap. Crockett felt a terrific shock high on the left shoulder, and the gun in his left hand ceased spitting and thudded to the rocky ground. One of the dark figures standing beside the car coughed and collapsed. No call to worry about him—when a man goes down that fashion he simply doesn’t get up, unless ‘some one picks him up. For a moment, so badly jarred was Crockett, that he ceased shooting. And the surviving booze-runner bounded into the car and pulled her wide open. For ten yards she leaped ahead. Came then the smashing blasts of the heavy nitro loads from a double-barreled ten-gage—two flashes of flame rent the star- lit dark like the winking blaze of sheet- lightning—a slithering smash as the power- ful car, both front tires and most of the rims shattered, swerved and lunged into the face of the butte! A dark figure hurled itself clear of the wreck and hit the ground, running. Another dark figure appeared, yelled— -a hideous, blood-curdling screech like that of a demon unleashed—and tore off into the velvety blackness in swift pursuit of _ the fleeing one. Another yell, Echanphant, exulting, came to Crockett’s ears. Hurrying, despite the agony of his left shoulder, in the direction whence came the shout, he saw a confused mass Chen: and rolling on the earth. Crockett was a scrapper himself—he liked it—but.this time he had no idea of mixing in. Good reason, too, outside the fact of a crippled left wing. He couldn’t tell which was boot-legger and which was Indian! ” Little by little the fracas quieted down. One figure lay still, and the other, kneel- ing astride, joyously and firmly nips choking his victim. IOOK 135 Covered from behind—in the very teeth. GOMICE EC)