Adventure Magazine Cover — page 134: what you’re looking at

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

890 We'd got alongside the motor-boat, which was branded Fayette in gold letters, some gorgeous, an’ Gus went on: “It’s bull-head luck to see you, Charlie! Just the very man to help, and I’ve got to have help, I sure have. The fact is—er—”’ an’ he gave a quick glance at the girl— “Muriel and I were going down to Larrinta to—er—get married!” Charlie whistled about as long an’ as steady as that ole loco of yours when she wants brakes, an’ I looked, casual, at the girl. She was sure pretty an’ enticin’ an’ was wearing a color as red as the knitted jacket she wore—sweaters, they call ’em. Charlie says, ‘‘We’ll row back, Gus, and get you some gasoline.’’ But Gus was peer- ing through a double-barrelled spy-glass. ‘There’s the Uinta!” he growled; and up the river we saw another motor-boat. “It'll be here before you could row a half-mile. We must do something else!” “We'll take Miss Langford ashore,” said Charlie. “She can slip up to old Hinck- ley’s farm and hide there till her father’s done all the poking around here he wants to. Then we'll go after gasoline.” Gus looked at the girl an’ she nodded her head, an’ we shoved our boat round to the other side of the Fayette, where it would be out of sight of the U inta, and she slipped over the side as pretty an’ easy as a ae settling down on a coyote rug. “You'd better snuggle down as iow as you can, Muriel,” said Gus. ‘‘They’retoo far off yet to see you, if you keep low. Take your hat off, too!”’ “No!” cried Charlie. ‘Sit right up, Miss Langford, and keep your hat on. Leave this to me, Gus! I’ve got an idea, all right, that’ll throw the Uznta clear off the track! Now, Buck, you snuggle down out of sight. Quick, old cow-punch! There mustn’t be more than one man seen. Hold! Give me that little canvas cover, Gus. All right!” So I dropped on to the bottom of the boat, crowding over on to my left side, so as to have my Colt handy if there was any gun-play, an’ Charlie slipped the oars over an’ rowed away, leaving Gus on the Fayette. ae Charlie made for that. As soon as we'd got round the point he jammed the boat ashore, because we were then out of sight of the Uinta, although we could THERE was a bay just below, an’ Adventure hear her rattle like a Gatling gun that was on a stampede. ‘Now, Miss Langford!”’ he cried. “Let me have your hat and sweater. I’m going to impersonate you, and Buck’s going to impersonate me. You can slip up through that young peach orchard to Hinckley’s and then you're safe. We'll lead the pur- suers up to the head of the bay, and if we have luck we'll take them ashore for a score of miles or so.”’ Great Socorro! but she was pretty as she stood on the bank and smiled at Charlie, an’ as he wriggled into the red sweater an’ put the little round straw hat on his head, she rippled out a laugh that sounded like the Silver Canyon Falls, only lighter. ‘““You’re so kind and so resourceful!”’ she gurgled. ‘‘But poor Gus! What will he do?” “Gus will be all right,” laughed Charlie, “now that you are safe. Gus can bluff as well as the next man, and some better. Besides, they won’t bother with him; it’s you they’re looking for, and you they’ll come after, and we’ll make their search in- teresting. Lay close at Hinckley’s and we'll be back before long. Take the oars, Buck!” He settled back on the rear seat, just as the girl had sat, an’ I scrambled on to the seat he’d left an’ pushed the oars into the water. I’ve handled most everything that ever was hitched to a hoss, from a trotting sulky to the Bighorn six-hoss stage, an’ I’ve been on bronchos that were some ex- plosive an’ elusive, but handlin’ that boat was nachully the cussedest experience I’d ever had. I was hittin’ the scenery— meanin’ the floor—about as prompt an’ fre- quent as if I’d been arguing with that blaze- face sorrel broncho that had a record for bucking, clean and impressive, an’ Charlie sat an’ laughed an’ fired off advice, real im- partial. But I got the outfit up to the head of the bay an’ headed it into the bank just as the Uinta shot round the upper point. Charlie looked round at her an’ said: “Give me that canvas, Buck. Quick! Hold it down low. That’s it!” He wriggled it underneath him an’ pulled it up around his waist, an’ stepped out on the bank. He was impersonatin’ the girl all right, even to the skirts. They looked sort of bunchy in spots an’ plumb flat in others, same as the foothills of ole Bald- C© MICLOOKS ©