Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

104 steadily, and the hatred and loathing of the fist-ghting woodsman for the killing gun- fighter showed in.-his face. ““We’ve got to take him, boys,” snarled the leader. ‘‘He’s too yellow to give us an excuse to bump him off. Put the irons on him. Don’t stir, you,” he continued with a baring of teeth. ‘If you do I’ll leave you cold on the floor here.”’ ‘“‘He means it,” cried Ada Adair, spring- ing to her feet. ‘‘Don’t fight; he’d like to kill you.” Gaston did not take his eyes from the bad man’s. ‘What do you want of me?” he asked. ‘‘Want you to come back to the States with me,” the man tapped his star. ‘Got a warrant for you.” ‘So that’s what they meant,” cried Gas- ton bitterly. ‘‘And you did a good job for them, Miss Adair, a very good job.” ‘A warrant charging you with train rob- bery,” continued the leader. ‘Dead or alive. How do you want to go?” Gaston started defiantly as one of the men advanced with the hand-cuffs, and an insane gleam of blood-hunger lighted the gunman’s cold eyes. “T’ll cheat you,” said Gaston, and held out his hands. ‘There, Carns,” cried Ada as the hand- cuffs clicked home, ‘‘he’s given up. Now you obey your orders and take him away and keep him safe.” “Eh?” the gunman lurched across the room and leered at her. “Getting cold feet?” She shrank as he touched her arm. “Say, you’re some woman! How’d yah like to travel with me, eh, pretty? Come on, now; you’d do to take along. Giveusa kiss, will yah?” “You obey your orders and take him away,’ she retorted, moving away. “You know what you’ve got to do, and there is no time for fooling. You’ve got to have him safe in the shanty before daylight and you'll have to drive hard to make it.” “Yep. That’s right. But I think I'll come back and look you up when this job’s done. Yep. I certainly want to get bet- ter acquainted.” “Gol” she cried. seen on the road?” “That’s right, Carns,” growled one of the others. ‘“There’ll be —— to pay when they miss him. If anybody sees us on the “Do you want to be Adventure road it'll get out. He’s got friends ——” “Shut up!” The man wilted as Carns swung around on him. ‘“‘Mebbe I’ll beef somebody yet before this night’s over if they go shooting off their mouth. I’m running this. Take the mutt down the hill and load him in the wagon.” He pressed his six-shooter against Gas- ton’s neck. “Hike, you!” In the doorway Gaston turned around ti looked at the woman who had trapped “T didn’t think it of you,” he said and went out. AIT TOM PINE’S rheumatism troubled him that night. In the shanty near the saw-mill he sat growling and rubbing his old limbs, cursing the days of his youth when as a crack river-driver he had exposed himself day after day to icy water, slept night after night on the frozen ground, and won as a reward the bane of the old river-hog, rheumatism. “It means something, I don’t know what it is, but it means something,” he growled, stamping restlessly around the shanty. He stepped outdoors and noted the haze that showed about the largest stars. ‘Snow coming all right in the next twenty-four hours,” he muttered. “I guess that must be-it2 He wandered about the mill, snapping at the night-shift, and returned to the shanty. As the hours passed without Gas- ton’s usual appearance he grew more restless. “I got the old Indian feeling,” he said with a shudder. ‘Something ain’t right, that’s all there are to it.” He made no attempt to sleep. Hour after hour he paced the room. He took down his rifle from the wall, oiled it, wiped it out, ran the cartridges through the maga- zine, and put it back, muttering to himself in troubled fashion. Midnight came and passed. It was well after three in the morning when Tom’s straining ears caught the sound of a footstep outside the door. He flung open the door and staggered back in amazement as Ada Adair, running at full speed, flashed into the light. He caught her as she stumbled on the 1a ee doorstep and led her to a chair. She was COMmicOolksS.COm