Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 156: what you’re looking at

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

154 .gash in his leg which was spouting blood every time he landed on the ice. “T am, pardner. I’m sure not goin’ to lose it arter watchin’ it this far. We’ll meb- be need it before the end comes. But you better watch it and do the drivin’. I’m not goin’ to lie here and see you spatterin’ gore in the rear work. Here, take the whip!” ‘“‘No, Tom, stay where you are. I’m not the one who has to record. Savvy? IfIdo play out, you’ll still be strong for the final spurt. You got to save yourself. But if you can save yourself and at the same time wriggle ’round those hindmost suckers, I’ll be much obliged. They have the sandwich stunt down to a nicety.” “Yes,” growled Bassett, “but I’ll git ’em yet. Don’t you worry. I’ve bin waitin’. I know a place whar I kin fix ’em.”’ The spot he had in mind was past Cari- bou Creek. There small rocky islands split the stream. The main-traveled trail lay by the east bank. Bassett made a feint of boring in between his late opponents, then swerved abruptly and flew up the side channel behind the islands. A roar of warning from the two outfits greeted his move. He could hear them lashing their dogs to cut him off, but he too laced the MacKenzie River huskies to a frenzy. The side channel was tortuous and rough, yet he gained a lead on the others in the main trail. Out of the foot of the passage he swerved his dogs in the arc of a circle. His whizzing sledge banged at an angle into the foremost of the other two. It rolled over and over, its dogs writhing a furry knot in the traces, and into it at full speed, and unable to stop, bolted the second outfit. “Sandwich yourself, and see how you like it!’ laughed Bassett, as they left the snarled heap behind and rocketed once more into the main-traveled trail. ‘“‘Good work, pardner, good work!”’ lauded Eric. “Our stock’s ballooning up. The odds are three to one.” They had broken Casino’s rear guard, and now they came to grips with Casino himself. But the latter was at no loss to meet the situation. Swiftly he made shrewd disposition of his forces. He, with Gunboat Kane on the tail of his sled, held the lead directly in front of Bassett’s outfit. The two remaining teams he waved into position on the partners’ flanks. Thus were Tom and Eric pocketed as a Adventure good horse is pocketed in a race by rival jockeys. Drive fast or drive slow, they could not worm out. The three held them as in a vise, and whether they kept the main trail or deviated through the island chan- nels, whether they forged straight on or corkscrewed about, chose smooth ice or roughed it out among the jams, Casino’s sled with the other two stuck with them. ‘This won’t do, Tom,” declared Sark in desperation. “We're getting on to Baker Creek. We got to go through. Give me the whip. You cut the gee-pole loose and drive with it.” QUICKLY Bassett slashed the gee- pole off. He knotted its binding- rope on for a lash and handed the twisted walrus-hide dog-whip to Eric. Bal- ancing himself upon his knees and swinging the formidable weapon around his head, Eric brought it down upon the pocketing outfits. Nor were they slow to retaliate. Directing their dogs by voice, aided by an occasional blow, the two men on either side of him thrashed viciously at him, and ahead, on the tail of Casino’s sled and possessed of Casino’s whip, Gunboat Kane kicked the lead-dog in the nose to hold him down the while he landed thirty-foot flicks of his lash around Sark’s head and shoulders. It was a wild moment, with the turmoil of the four boring outfits, the shriek of the gritting sled-runners, the howls of the pun- ished dogs, the imprecations of the battling men and the sflat-splat-splat of the whip- lashes on parka-clad bodies, all transpiring in reckless, meteor-like flight. A wild mo- ment and a bitter, brutal moment, a mo- ment to break a man’s spirit under odds and lose him the race. Yet Sark fought madly back at the three, inflicting much punishment and receiving more, and every successive moment he stood the strain he allowed Bassett to push his dogs up closer and closer upon Casino’s leading outfit. So close he pushed them that the lead-dog got his nose over the tail of the sled and sank his fangs in sweet re- venge in Gunboat’s calves. Gunboat had to scramble back and sit upon his calves and turn all his fighting power against the enraged beast. The seams of the pocket began to gape. The two flanking sleds crowded in to hold the partners safe, their runners grinding against those of the partners’ sled and the AD CoOMmichoooks CO