Adventure Magazine Cover — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

. blamin’ you a bit for coming home. The First Born “and his ability to labor for those he ’a loved. But now an automatic fear clouded his tanned smooth face, his blue eyes nar- rowed, and his attitude was that of one abruptly put upon the defensive. The horseman turned from the dirt road ‘and stopped on the other side of the fence. He was big Clint Hawkins, sheriff of the county, and his own perturbation was ob- vious from the way he nervously pulled at his blond mustache. “Arch Balinger,’” he began without so much as a preliminary “Howdy,” “I ain’t any gladder to see you than you are to see me.”’ He paused, scrutinizing the young moun- taineer’s expression; then continued: “T’ve put off making this trip for ’most two months—but now I’ve got to find you. The warden down at Frankfort knows mighty well that a mountain feller strikes for home after he breaks prison, and he’s purty near worried me crazy ever since you escaped. He says that if I don’t fetch you back, he’ll send men up here who will. What are we going to do about it, Arch?” There was no unkindness in the sheriff’s tone or manner, but sympathy and a frank reluctance to perform a painful duty. Arch knew him for the man he was—fear- less and uncompromising when a situation demanded it, but always stanchly loyal to his people, willing to trust and shield them even beyond the legal limit. Young Balinger rested his elbows on the top rail of the fence and moodily shook his head. 2 | was afeerd ye ’d be comin’ over afore long,” he said, staring at the ground. “I knowed I’d. have to go back some time. That’s plainer to me then hit is to yo’, fer I’ve seen the ways they’ve got fer track- in’ and ketchin’ fellers who escape that prison. “But, Clint—” he met the sheriff’s eyes squarely—“I’m tellin’ ye honest that I hadn’t any notion o’ stayin’ away fer good. That wouldn’t be doin’ right. I jest “lowed to hang ’round here a short spell, ontil I got ever’thing in shape, and then go on back and give myself up. I wasn’t meanin’ to put yo’ er the warden neither to so much trouble.” “Don’t let that worry you, Arch.” The sheriff glanced beyond him to the weather- stripped shack. ‘Understand, I ain’t I'd ’ done the same thing myself if I’d been in your place, and I hate like you. But I got to. There’s nothing else for me to do now that I’ve found you.” He changed the subject. “Your corn and ’taters certainly are looking prime,” he declared. — * “There ain’t a weed in sight. I reckon the old cow’s fresh by now and the pigs are fattening. [| tell you, things around here have perked up mightly since I come by last. You must ’a’ put ina heap of work this Summer.” Arch turned and surveyed the little val- ley-farm with the satisfaction of a good husbandman. It was all he had, and none knew better than he the sweat that must water its sandy acres to make them produce a year’s living. Even with the cow and pigs and a few chickens, the fight for exis- | tence was primitive and hard. “Yas,” he drawled, “I ain’t leavin’ nothin’ undone that I kin do. Hit’llkeep Lou Ann from havin’ to work out.in the sun afore she’s strong ag’in. cade Ae V’m a-reckonin’ on. Ever’ single I hit now will save her jest that much atter I’m gone. She’ll have more’n a plenty to do all by herself anyway, these next three year,” he added with gloomy~reflection. “Why don’t you send her and the baby to Harlan County,” the sheriff suggested, “and let ’em stay with her folks until you’ve served your time? They’d be glad to have ’em—and such a plan would make things easier all ’round.”’ “Naw, hit wouldn’t!” Inherent pride broke through Arch’s melancholy, straight- ening jhis shoulders and stiffening his jaw. ““Me ’n’ Lou Ann ain’t axin’ help o’ nobody,” he affirmed. keer o’ her and the young’un; and whilst I’m gone, she kin make the livin’ right here on my farm. Jest ’cause I played the fool and got into trouble, don't mean we can’t still look atter ourselves.” Clint Hawkins smiled, not in ‘Tidicale but in admiration of ‘the independent spirit that neither stone walls nor haunting poverty had crushed. ~ He leaned from his saddle toward Arch, the smile broadening into a grin. “Look-a here,” he said, “you ain’t told me nothing yet about that boy. Are you ashamed of being a pappy?”’ Arch grinned too, kicked the fence with a force that almost displaced a rail and clutched the sheriff’s arm eagerly. Gomichbook 149 to arrest — “When I’m home, I kin take | : 4 » ) ee it. : ie . ,, fa 6) : ites Wed rery . en NDEI? a be - | as | ry ‘ a ‘nd éiu DK ee ix - ; MM ay + as if pan 3 f l ‘y- . ; fy : Ahir Gan) PAE ce owe ! BG eae > nh ARO CAS ale S|» 0 R PWR CCT Sia eee (yf 2 Sat i Nas eA, ee Aj A, ‘ 2 eS vty Sah ‘| . AS ee Gil, ‘3 he Ee ; ep = tbs then Ney gy on ¥ hte) ahi bed) : Veet bP Al) 4 tet! 4 é ‘ © ss PAA de ¢ | - a8 AVE HT: 4 figse% ., PN ey aS ee r 7 aAGt, i SEM RGM TUR iy 2h tits ¢ peed ty ALY ‘} Sit thd Hains Ae te 4 * fey