Adventure Magazine Cover, December 10, 1922 — page 176: what you’re looking at

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

170 “Tt’s worth trying.” “T wouldn’t foreweaken myself with such superstition,’ said Jones. “Suppose your stone goes in, you'd give up easier in a pinch.” “Fate’s fate.” Jack seemed sort of helpless, mentally. Jones advised him to whet up his will power. The sailor rattled the stones like dice. “Wait,’ admonished Jones good hu- moredly. ‘‘All the pebbles that go in the water are men that won’t go back down this mountain. Is that it?” Jack nodded and rattled the stones, and turned them loose. “Come seven, come ’leven!’’ he begged. The pebbles struck around the pool, and bounced, and rolled, and went into the water—all of them! FAGS arrived at this resting place, but he did not rise and go on with the others. Jones noticed this after AD A they had started. “Say, men,’ said he, “we oughtn’t to go on and leave the kid in this cold-blooded fashion.” eTo with that stuff,” growled Mor- ton-Dyer. 2 “Why don’t you go back, intellectual?” sneered Cotton. “By Heavens, I will!” flashed Jones. “You Pharisees!” And he strode back. Fags was in a bad way. His eyes pleaded for help. “Tf I was up and started,” he suggested feebly, spirit willing but flesh weak. “Kid,” said Logical, ‘I’m afraid this is too tough for you. Maybe you had better turn back.”’ “No, sir! No! —— you, don’t you turn -. against me!” “But, Fags, it’s a long hike yet.” ‘Turning against a pal! You—you chunk o’ iron will power!”’ “T’ll swear,” said Jones, “I admire your courage!” *‘Admire. A man never done a kind thing forme. Why don’t you say, ‘Fags, I’ll help you over this rough stretch to the snow, where going will be easy’? Hey, why don’t you? If I could only get to that smooth snow.” “Come on, Fags,” decided Jones abrupt- ly. “By Heavens, I'll help you. You’re game!” | He gave Fags his arm, and with renewed Adventure courage the smoked-out youth stepped along with credible speed—for a little way. “By golly,” he observed once, “this is white of you, Jonesy.” “We'll make it, too, kid,” Jones allowed. “You're entitled to it.” Fags did not answer for some time, then it was to say he guessed he was entitled to it all right. ‘Them fellows are gaining on you, Jonesy, like everything. I guess maybe——” “Aw, stick with it. We're doing fine.” “You can’t kid me, Jonesy. I’m—I’m failing.” Hestopped. “Goon. Catch up.” “Listen, kid.’ “Go on, Jonesy. You’ve been white to me. You’rea man. I’m going to be white to you, by stoppin’ right here.” Fags dropped down. Jones saw there was no use to argue, nor to lose time. ‘Tf there are claims staked,” he said, “‘T’Il get one staked for you, Fags, or know the reason why.” He hurried on, trotting, but he had not gone a stone’s throw when he remembered that Fags was coatless and lying on the sharp stones. He went back, torn between wrath at the delay and the desire to do right. He carried the slight form to the sunny side of a huge boulder, smoothed a place, took off his own mackinaw and wrapped the lad in it. “Tt hope you get rich,” said Fags feebly. And all that Jones could think of to say, absurdly enough, was a verse from the Book that popped into his mind: ‘“‘ “Ffe that loveth silver shall not be satis- fied with silver. ... This is also vanity.’ ” “TY give you my luck for up there, Jonesy,” murmured Fags sleepily. Somehow it all made Jones feel different. But he in no sense was weakened. @&) now, and it was plain, by the spaces between them, that the rope was no longer looped about Morton-Dyer’s neck. Jones ran, he made a desperate fight to over- take them, and he reached them where they were paused at the edge of the glacier knot- ting loops in the light cotton line to run their arms through—some assurance’ should one slide into a crevasse while the others remained out. While they paused, the sailor, with weather-wise eye, called attention to the black nose of a cloud edging up behind the THE trio was far ahead of Jones 5} Eomichoo co