Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

FA aN 166 may be a wolf all right, a little one, but Jim Newton’s a lobo, and he runs with the lobo pack. You know what happened to Jack- _.son, well enough. “He made his brags that he knew too much about them to ever be bothered, and the first break that he made they took him _ down to Arrapahoe and hanged him in public, all legal and proper, as a warning to the rest, and nobody paid any more atten- tion to what he told than they would to a blatting sheep. “fAnd here’s something else to put in your pipe. You’re not deuce high with the girl, and the kid is the whole deck—any one can see that. And Newton knows it, and hasn’t lifted a finger. How do you know what his game is? You’ve got your nerve, butting in, but you can count me out. Any time that I want to commit suicide there’s lots easier ways than mixing up in one of Jim Newton’s plays.” . Siveq to little Alice, and listening for her “== husband, who was out on the range 4 ite ALICE LLOYD sat reading a story that day and had not got home by dark. It so happened that she was all alone on the ranch, all the other men being away. ~ At lastshe heard the tramping of a horse, but after the sound had stopped for some time and Dick did not come in she became alarmed, and taking a lamp, went out. There stood her husband’s horse, rider- less, the bridle reins dragging. Frightened, alone, at first she was dazed, but just then the little girl came running out to meet daddy. “Allie,” she said, “if mama puts you up on Banjo can you ride up to Uncle Frank’s? Look, you can see the lights, and tell him to come down. Ride Banjo just as if he were your pony. I’m afraid that he wouldn’t let all three of us get on, and mama doesn’t - want to leave you and the baby alone.” _ _ So a couple of Gorham’s punchers, en- joying a game of cards after the rest had — gone to bed, were startled by a faint tap- ping on the bunk-house door, and one of them opening it was confronted by a very frightened little girl. “What the—why, it’s Dick Lloyd’s kid. What’s the matter, baby?” and he picked her up. ~ “Banjo came home without daddy, and mama put me on, and it was dark, and I for- Adventure got that Banjo higher than Bluebell, and I fell an awful*ways and hurt my arm, and mama wants Uncle Frank,” sobbed the child. “Hustle the old man,” said the puncher, but his comrade had already departed on the run. Still holding little Alice he grabbed one of his sleeping mates by the arm and jerked him, bed-clothes and all, on to the floor. “Do your sleeping tomorrow,” he snapped at that wrathy individual, “and pull the rest of those loafers out; there’s something wrong down at Dick’s.”’ Gorham made.a strange comment. “Why in —— didn’t I kill that coyote when I had a chance?” he said as he came into the bunk-house where the men were jerking on their clothes in haste. “One of you fellows hook on to a buck- board and go get Mrs. Richardson and take her down to Dick’s,’”’ he ordered. : “Bert, as soon as you get saddled light out for Carson’s and tell him to come on the high jump and bring the Indian called the “Weasel” with him. Another one of you go and get Jean LaBrun; we’re going to need some good trackers or I miss my guess. “Don’t cry, Allie, Uncle Frank will take you back to mama and we'll go get daddy right away. Rustle all the lanterns and we'll go down, fellows,” he finished. But at Lloyd’s Gorham was cheerful and matter of fact. } “Nothing to worry about, girlie,” he told Alice. “Horse most likely fell with Dick and busted a leg or something; we’ll have him home and in bed in a hurry. I’ve sent for your mother so you'll have some help to fix Dick up, and she’ll be here in a little while.” After following the back track of Lloyd’s horse for half a mile in the soft soil—they were plainly visible even by moonlight— Gorham stopped and took his bearings. “I’ve got an idea we're wasting time, boys,” he said. ‘“‘A couple of you keep on this trail, and if you find anything—which isn’t likely—fire a signal and make a blaze. Fred, you go back and meet Carson and that bunch and tell them to cut across and hit the trail which comes off the head of Willow Creek to Ewing’s and follow it up. Tell ’em to hit it below the timber. The rest of us will go over there and be ahead of you.” They found Dick Lloyd where Gorham Gomichbooks