Adventure Magazine Cover — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

914 back travel and hard work. We ate and were not critical. At the end of a half-hour we emerged and found our host still smoking his pipe, still deep in absorption. “Like it?”’ he asked. “Fine,” Boggs said. We noticed that he looked at us keenly, seriously, suspiciously. ‘“How much is the damage?” we asked. “Dollar,” he said; “fifty cents for you two and fifty for the two horses.” | Boggs explained the motor-car. ‘Don’t care,” he said. “I guess you got animules of some kind runnin’ ’round inside there and turnin’ the wheels. From the smell of the thing I kinder believe it’s a swarm of polecats.”’ We laughed and Boggs chortled, “All right, old man. We'll not quarrel over the charge. Here’s a dollar. It’s worth it.” He took the note and shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of a show ye’re runnin’ but the last party that came this way stuck me with a Confederate bill. [ll have to look into this a little.” ‘But we want to get on our way _“Wantin’ and gittin’ is two things, and yell not move ’till I give the word!” Boggs looked at me and I looked at Boggs. The same thought came to us both: Were we in the hands of a lunatic? He spoke again, slowly and with emphasis. ‘When you said you enjyed that food,” he said, “I knowed you were about the worst liars that ever struck these parts. The food weren’t no good and Mary ’Liza can’t cook worth a darn, and I ain’t got no business runnin’ a hotel. Consequently, when any- body says they like it here I know right off they’re tryin’ to skin me. It’s for me to do the skinnin’ or there wouldn’t be a hotel. Fact is, my friends, the hotel business is so plagued unsartin’ up here on Razorback that I always hold up the vehicle till I find everything is all right.” We moved to the machine and saw that it was firmly attached to a tree. We used our diplomacy; we offered more money; we wore out our eloquence. It was useless. He sat on a stump in front of the house, smoked his pipe and bade us be patient while he thought it out. ie We also smoked and tried to be philosoph- ical, but the day was going. The mountains never seemed so lonesome. The great pines sang nothing but dirges. Melancholy settled ) Adventure over everything. Not many miles beyond we knew there was a busy, bustling world with banks and friends and aid. But here in the bosom of the wilderness we were helpless and desolate. Suddenly we saw our lank host straighten up and his hand unconsciously move toward his gun. His sharp ears had detected ‘the approach of some one minutes before we caught the sounds—and then we beheld the blacksmit.1 coming around the turn of the road. He stopped short and looked at the tableau. Boggs arose and met him and poured forth our tale of wo. The black- smith laughed, but made no remark except: “‘T kinder expected ye to break down, so I toddled along to git the job of fixin’ ye Uu oe “Howdy, Sam,” said our host. “Howdy, Bill,” said the blacksmith. They walked away so that we could not hear what they said and plunged into a conference which seemed to last an hour but which really continued about ten or fifteen minutes. Their occasional glances at us showed plainly what they were talking about. Finally the blacksmith approached. “There is peculiar circumstances ’round here just now and there’s reasons why ye can’t git off the mountains without havin’ some kind of company. I tell Bill here that I think ye’re all right, and ef ye are all right ye won’t mind him and me goin’ the rest of the way with ye and stoppin’ when we tell ye to stop. Ef ye’ll give Bill and me your word ye’ll obey orders till we git down there to the valley, all right. Ef ye won't, ye’ll have to stay awhile.” Boggs and I discussed the proposition and agreed. Mary ’Liza was left in charge of the hotel. Bull stepped into the machine as though it was going to explode, and Sam took his seat beside him. It was ridiculous to see their emotions and their uncertainties, but the road down was much better than the first half and we got along rather well. In a bosky dell where the trees overlapped and nature was wildest Bill shouted, “Whoa!” Boggs brought the machine to a stop. Bill arose, placed his fingers to his mouth and gave the most piercing whistle mortal ever heard—a thin, penetrating, carrying shrill like that of a whippoorwill. A mo- ment later came the answer from afar up the hill. Sam and Bill whispered and Bill pointed Comicbook CO