Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

Tia <A % ‘ally NIP Ae aee 7 . ‘ = ‘6 _ .self behind a large tree. _ promptly did likewise; but the borderer, by the ruse of poking his coonskin cap out v A minute later, while de Crespigny was trying to make himself heard above the growing tumult, the men on the crowd’s edge heard too, and looked and yelled. Ten minutes later ten great lorries came to a halt in line in an utterly empty street in front of the Governorate, disgorging two machine guns and more hairy Sikhs than you would have believed could be possibly crowded into that space. The Sikhs were angry. They had been skirmishing for a day and a night without sleep. They wanted nothing on earth so much as a crowd to glut their temper on and stood about outside, grumbling their disappointment. But one enormous man with a beard like the man’s on the chutney- bottle in the grocer’s window thrust his way into the Governorate, callmg aloud for Jimgrim. “Ah!” he exclaimed at sight of him and came to attention. ‘‘Not dead, then, sahib! And the man I was to reckon with—that _ Ali Baba person—where is he?” Grim introduced them and the eyes of Sikh and Arab met for thirty full seconds. Adventure | ‘ Then Narayan Singh the Sikh grinned hugely and thrust his bayonet forward. Ali Baba answered the threat by touching his knife and pointed to his sixteen sons. “The more the better!” said Narayan Singh, perfectly ready to accept odds of seventeen to one. “Tnshallah!” | ““We will see, whenever the time comes!” “Tnshallah!”’ repeated Ali Baba sweetly. “Lovin’ couple, ain’t they!”’ put in Cohen. “Say; don’t you fellows ever eat supper in this joint? Vmdyin’ o’ thirst! What time is it?” “Ah!” Grim laughed. ‘That reminds me; here’s yout watch back. I allow you’ve won the bet. Where’s mine?” “Gimme mine first.”’ Grim obeyed and Cohen pocketed the “Like to kid yourself, don’t you! Think Vl part with yours? Nothin’ doing! Ill keep this blame thing for a souvenir— souvenir o’ the first time I was made a stark starin’ sucker out of and wasn’t sorry! But say; let’s have supper now and drink to them seventeen thieves!” — TOOK TWO SCALPS AT SEVENTY-SIX by Lewis Appleton Barker N 1779, MR. OBED MORGAN, then living at Ricketts’ Fort, in what is now West Virginia, had a thrilling encounter with two Indians, whom he met in the woods, and in spite of his advanced years—he being then seventy-six—he came out ahead. _ Owing to rheumatism, attendant on old age, the patriarch was easily winded in his first attempt at flight, and ensconced him- The redskins on his ramrod, induced one of them to expose himself in order-to fire, and before | he was able to cover himself, shot him through the head. Again Morgan fled, but the remaining Indian gained on him rapidly, and finally stopped to take aim. He fired, but, missing his man, they closed on each other in a death grip. The white man attempted to brain the other with his gun-stock, and in so doing had a finger cut off by the brave’s tomahawk, as well as having his gun knocked from his hands. Locked in close embrace, back and forth they struggled. Despite the disparity of years, however, Morgan, who had been soomewhat of a wrestler in his day, threw his foe, but the greased body of the latter was so slippery that he was quickly upper- most, and reached for his knife. It was a supreme effort on the part of both. The old man, who had the savage’s other hand tightly gripped in his teeth, also en- deavored to reach the knife, but the Indian got it first. Fortunately, however, he was only able to seize it near the blade, and Morgan, catching hold of the upper part of the handle, drew it through his adversary’s hand, nearly cutting off his fingers. This caused the latter to spring up, and the brave old settler, still gripping the Indian’s other hand in his teeth, plunged the knife in his breast, returning a short time after to the fort with two scalps. — COMIC OOK = ee a i ey ey