Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

The Best Bet “Not in a million years.” The district man relaxed, leaning back in the chair. He realized that direct appeal was useless; only ruse remained. He re- called Bradley’s weakness; and for a long period of silence he surveyed the ranger speculatively. Suddenly he seemed resigned to Bradley’s decision. “Sorry, ranger, you feel that way. But thanks anyway for coming over. I'll have to blunder through it myself. It isn’t the reserve fires that bother me so much; it’s the mystery of why any one would want to set Black Swamp off.” Bradley stirred instantly; Driscoll saw the tightening of the muscles of his face. “Somebody trying to set off Black Swamp?” “Yes; hadn’t youvheard? I thought all the town had heard the reports; several asked me about them. Baldy has been reporting a strange smoke over the swamp every evening.” “You mean to tell me that this town has learned that the service is reporting fires in Black Swamp and that it considers the fires there fire-bug work?” Driscoll nodded. “No doubt it’s the same fellow who’s giv- ing us the —— on the reserve.’ Bradley laughed. -“Vou’re crazy, Driscoll.. Nobody would try to burn down Black Swamp. The tim- ber there is worthless, and the fire couldn’t spread to the good stuff. Have 7 the smoke locations there?” . Driscoll pushed a file of papers across the desk. Bradley glanced eagerly at them, then looked up, his eyes kindling. “Mind if I get a personal paper out of the desk-drawer, Driscoll? Left it here by mistake.” ___ Driscoll nodded, and when the ranger had the paper he opened it out, revealing a rough chart. “Made this last year when I spent a week going all over Black Swamp. Charlie Mears bet me fifty that it couldn’t be done, so I did it.” Several minutes passed while Bradley compared the reports with his big chart. When he looked up at Driscoll again his face was glowing. “Driscoll, there’s no fire in the swamp!” The district man smiled with assumed tolerance. 137).--S “There are Baldy’s reports.”’ — He hesitated a barely perceptible mo ment, then said tentatively— = “And Pm betting they’re right.” Ss Bradley’s body stiffened. Unconsciously — he leaned farther across the table-top. 5 “You're not like the chief, eh? You're game to lay a little bet! Well, I call you and raise you another. The town knows ~~ about these reports—you admitted it your- __ self. I’ve been waiting for a chance like oe “Driscoll, I'll bet you that between sunset today and sunset tomorrow I can cTOsS SiS Black Swamp, stop that —— -fool smoke, — and when I do it will automatically stop — the fires on the reserve. All that I bet you, S: 3 Driscoll, and this much more: When I get — back and tell the town what that smoke really was they’ll laugh the service off the — patrol.” Driscoll got to his feet. “You can’t cross Black Swamp at night. Why, man, by day it’s ninety per cent. suicide!” 4 “T can’t? Are you saying that or betting e ite =, “Betting it—at your price!” =3 “Fifty!” Bradley fairly barked. > “Done! You can’t cross at night.” SS Bradley laughed. “T’m the man who spent a week in ts all over it. Look here. See that cross on my chart? All your smokeslocations are right around it. You don’t know what ee cross means, but I do! There’s a poor devil’s bones buried not a million miles — = from there—I buried them!” ; Concern was written upon the denees 2 S man’s face. <8 “You're mad to try it at night, Bradley. = Wait till morning. The bet holds even for z crossing by day.” pec Sneering, Bradies folded the chart and 5 thrust it into his pocket. a “The bet stands as is, without any pibee ae ing! I’m in and out of that swamp between _ this minute and tomorrow night!” Be He picked up his hat and turned to go. ae Over his shoulder he said with a lau ee. “Lucky the chief isn’t here, Driscoll, > aa He'd fire you for betting!” Sa A moment later the door slammed behind _ ee the ranger. Driscoll drew a handkerchief and mopped his brow. Franklin looked in | = 3 through the doorway of the next room. ©— “Good man—Bradley!” the district man Gomicbooks a m