Adventure, August 1917 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

18 ruining the happiness of the people who live-in this country.” ‘And did father always think that? You said he changed.”’ “Ves, he admitted Mr. Searles was right, that it had to be. I don’t remember all that they said. Usually it was too deep for me, words I never understood.” Slowly Stanton turned back to Wallace. Twice he made an effort to speak, but the words did not come. He coughed, but the third time he was silent. Joan and Searles sensed the importance of the moment and waited. Then as sharp and sudden and as un- expected as a crack of thunder, and as startling and unnerving, came a high, shrill yell from the beach. For an instant no one moved. Then Stanton, kicking his chair backward, was at the door and running through the big living-room to the front of the house. Joan and Mrs. Knox were after him before Searles had risen. As they rushed through the house, the shrill yells, now mingling with shrieks of even higher pitch, continued. As the three hurried out through the door they saw Stanton starting down the steps toward the beach, while at the water’s edge, yell- ing and waving a small ax, was an Indian dancing in front of a squaw who had backed up against a tree. She held a long butcher knife in one hand, waving it uncertainly over her head, while shriek after shriek came from her wide-open mouth. “Drop it!’ yelled Stanton as he started forward. ‘‘Dropit!” herepeated in Ojibway. The Indian turned, saw him coming, swayed uncertainly, and then with a quick step forward swung his little ax high over his head and split open the squaw’s skull to her mouth. Searles, obeying his first instinct, turned and attempted to close the door on Mrs. Knox and Joan. “Get in!’ he commanded, “and lock all the doors!” Mrs. Knox, without speaking, thrust past him, while Joan, with a quick movement, slipped by on the other side. ‘‘Are you crazy?” he demanded. “Get back into the house where you are safe!” He had grasped an arm of each and attempted to pull them back, but he could hold only Joan. herself free and looked at him scornfully as she started down the steps. ' the day before. Mrs. Knox easily tore. Adventure ‘“We’re not your city women, young man,” she snapped angrily. “We are of the North country,” and she was gone after Stanton. Wallace turned to Joan. Her determina- tion to follow Mrs. Knox was clearly evident. He realized that neither request nor explanation would deter her. Quickly he reached down and picked her up in his arms. ‘I’m sorry,” he said as he carried her into the house. “But you don’t realize what danger you may be in. This must be settled by Bancroft and me.” Gently he set her on the floor and then darted out, closing and locking the door behind him. The next instant he was running down the trail to the beach, quickly overtaking Mrs. Knox. Before him was Stanton, rushing on toward the Indian, who now danced about the body of his victim. CHAPTER V WOMEN OF THE NORTH EN the Indian saw the two white men and a woman running toward him he stopped yelling and stopped to pick up the knife the squaw had held. With a weapon in each hand, he turned to face them. This brought Stanton up short. The man with whom he had to deal was the same he had dragged into his teepee only He was a big Indian, long, lean, cat-like in his movements, a formidable adversary when sober. Now, his mind inflamed by whisky, robbed of all caution by drink, possessing two good weapons, and the blood lust aroused by the taking of life, he was a match for more than one. Without even a stick in his hands, Stanton was helpless. His first idea had been to subdue the man by the sheer force of his will, a factor that had won out more than once in the previous few months in his encounters with drunken Indians. But as he stood facing the Indian across the body of the squaw he knew that nothing except force, perhaps nothing less than the death of the man, would save the lives of the white people at the mission. Even as he stood there in that brief instant, staring back into the blazing animal eyes, he found time to remember what a gentle, amiable, industrious, likeable person had been this cComiclbook C© 5}