Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

Gaston Olaf and Big Business panting, her face was white and distraught, and her wild eyes roamed about uneasily, avoiding his. “‘They’ve got him!” she gasped. —get a gun—we'll save him.” “Got him!” stammered Tom. the boy?” “Ves!” She sprang to her feet, defiance on her tongue, but the mad words would not come. Slowly she sank back in the chair, her hands covering her eyes. “T can’t do it; I can’t see it through! I fooled him, I roped him, I drew him into their hands for revenge, but I can’t—I can’t go through with it.” “Come ““Got— “Girl! Are you talking about Gaston Olaf?” “ “Girl! Dm no girl; ’ma woman. It’s the other one who’s the girl, that kid; that’s why I did it, because her kind always have the best of it, and I was mad, crazy, in- sane!”’ “Tell it quick: Have they got the boy?” “Yes. They’ve got him. They pretend they’re detectives, but they’re nothing but a lot of hired thugs, killers.” “And you did it?” “‘T’”’—she shrank at~the devil that flared in those old blue eyes—‘‘don’t, for God’s sake, don’t look at me that way! I’m try- ing to square it now; I came to get your help. Don’t look at me like that, or as God is my judge I won’t tell you another word, but I'll go after ’em and try to save him alone.” “You fooled him into the hands of hired killers???’ Tom Pine was whispering. “And I’m going to save him! That’s what I’m here for.”’ ‘“‘And you’ve got the nerve to come and tell me so!” ‘““Because I’ve come to my senses now. I see now; they’re a lot of snakes compared to him. I helped them wind their coils around him, but if you’ll get hold of your- self and listen we'll get the rattles before they strike. If you won’t “Tell me, quick, how it happened.”’ “He was coming from camp. I’d watched and I knew his side-path. I pre- tended to be hurt. He picked me up and carried me to the Frenchman’s shack. They were laying out in the brush, waiting for my signal. They came when the lamp was lit; four of ’em. They took him.” “Without a fight?” “Yes. He was too smart for that, mad ‘that? 105 as he was. He saw they were looking for a chance to kill him—in self-defense—and the four of them had him covered. They pretend to be detectives from the States with a warrant charging him with train robbery; and they pretend they’re going to take him back to the States for, trial. They’re not. They’re only going to take him out of the way for awhile.” “Where?” She stopped abruptly in her impassioned narrative. “You're going after him?” “Vm going to get him—and get them. Where is it?” She looked him squarely in the eye. “I won’t tell you.” “By ——! you will.” “I won’t; because you’d start off alone. I’m going to be in this, too. I’m going to help. I—I’ve got to make up for the trick I played him, and let him see me doing it.” “VYou—you—well, I will be darned. You got to—what? Good glory! Woman —well, what’s your idea?” “T’m going to guide you. I can go as fast as any man—faster tonight. I'll take you to where they’re planning to keep him, and——”’ “By the Lord Harry, girl! Will you do Will you play white with me?” “T swear it. All I want is the chance to make up for the other thing. Oh, you may think that I’m only trying to rope you, too. I don’t blame you. Ideserveit. But give me a chance—let me square up.” She leaned against the door-jamb, and old Tom took her rounded chin in his hand and looked in her eyes. “I believe you,” he said gruffly. He flung his old rifle into the hollow of his arm and filled his pocket with shells. ‘‘All right. Lead the way.” She pointed at Gaston’s rifle hanging on the wall. “No,” he said, slapping his own weapon affectionately, “‘they’re only four and old Betsy’ll take care of ’em. This won’t be woman’s work. Come on. How big a start have they got?” “Two hours. They’ve got a wagon. They gagged him and loaded him like a log. They’re going around the lower end of the lake.” “Taking him to the landing?” “No. They’re taking him to a shanty in the woods. We aren’t going to follow COmicloo C©