Adventure Magazine Cover, December 10, 1922 — page 182: what you’re looking at

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

176 changing the subject. “Did they get to the top?” Jones made his weary gesture up the trail. “Perished,” said he. ‘“Crevasses—the storm—superstition and stubbornness and greed. All but one, Fags.” “They brought him in, stiff as a board.” “Fags? Poor kid.” “And Casey Jones too. them.” “You!” Jones remembered Sinehour and They'll bury his threats. “Why, we left you hog-tied. How did you—. You'll have me arrested, won’t youe” “The fire guard,” hastened the old man in his explanation. ‘Yesterday about noon he was going up the trail and saw the broken tree and the smashed twigs down the slope, and he followed and found me. My wife was much disturbed.” “There were no gold nuggets,” broke in Jones. | “Tt was the fire guard. Fooled you. He told me. His ability to mimic.” Jones got to his feet, a fighting man. “The fire guard? Another trick? Why, it’s murder!” “No jury would, could convict. He’s pay- ing in hard coin. Come and see. You will understand.” “But the girl, Nellie?” “That was the Smart Aleck too. He said to me this morning, ‘men or women, I can mock ’em all. It’s a curse.’ He’s pathetic, Mr. Jones.” “The gold-nuggets!”’ been very real to Jones. “Pebbles he’d picked up in the road. He confessed everything to me.” “Great guns!” “When the fire guard found me,” old Sinehour resumed, “and saw I was bound, and understood how serious it all was he started up the trail in a hurry. But the storm was starting even then. He said if you men went past the Ridge there would be the dickens to pay. “A long time before he got back the camp- ers from the Ridge were stringing into town cold and wet, some being carried. Like refugees I’ve read about, they were. Cry- ing, hysterical, offering fifty dollars for a seat in automobiles to get them to the main railroad. Special train came in at midnight, to get them. They’re flocking into Ice yet this morning, half-drowned and frozen. Oh, mercy me, it is awful. These things had Adventure “About dark some men came in with the engineer. They found him where he had hung himself to a tree. They had him on a horse. And just a little time after that the fire guard came in with the night clerk. He had gone on from the ridge after you others, but when he found Fags he came back, but Fags was gone.” The old man stopped. His lips were trembling. He was just weary and sad. In the pause Jones said: ‘““The camp on the Ridge—it was whipped to ribbons. ‘They cracked all night in the wind like rotten ice. I slept in the rangers’ shack under wet canvas, when I finally got there.” “Let’s get out of this storm,” said the old man. “I’m nearly frozen. I'll show you the fire guard.” “And [ll tell him about the others.” “No! Not a man of your intellect.” “Intellect be FE “Er, your big heart, then.” They left the shelter of the forest and went into the gusty rain, Jones limping along on his staff in his grotesque garments. They turned presently into the wide main street. It was dotted with rain-drabbled figures. The same sort of nondescripts sat in the shelter of the buildings. When they drew near the fire guard’s shack they saw him sitting at the sheltered end of the porch. They stopped in front of him. He did not look up. His hands, down between his knees, held a stick, and with the stick he dug absently in the ground. He was a figure of lugubrious remorse, a beaten jokester. Jones shook his head and they moved away. “He couldn’t be hurt any worse,” he said in the middle of the street. ‘“I’d be less than aman. You going to have me arrested? You ought to.”’ “No,” said Sinehour. “I’ve decided not to. I didn’t get lumbago out of lying on the ground. I guess—I’ll be a sport.” The kindliness that was so evident—the love of an old man for youth and adventure, the good sportsmanship, touched Jones. He was sorry for his gruffness on the trail back there. “Mr. Sinehour,” said he, ‘I don’t mind telling you why I got to the top, and why I got back down here. It wasn’t logic nor will power. It was because I have a little girl eight years old. I did it for her.”’ GComichooks com