Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

04 stumbled — slightly. Stumbled again — heavily. Stumbled a third time, and went down smash on his nose, catapulting Chuck over his head. The puncher landed on the flat of his stomach, and for several minutes could do nothing but gasp like a hooked fish. me. | WHEN he had his breath back he “a scrambled to his feet, snatched the rifle from the saddle of the wheezing gray, and scuttled forward on foot with all the speed his high-heeled boots would allow. Among the cottonwoods surround- ing the spring he halted, peering past a slim bole at the lighted windows of the kitchen. The door was open, and the light lay on the ground in a fan of yellow radiance. With the scent of the geraniums that She loved heavy in his nostrils and the ranch- house so near that he could actually look into the kitchen and see the stove and the clock hanging on the wall beyond, reaction set in. He tingled all over. Suppose nothing had happened. But it was past midnight, he knew, long past the hour when folk in the longhorn country are abed and asleep, and the kitchen was lighted as for a wedding. Perhaps Mr. Dale was worse. In that case there would be a light in the other part of the house. He could see no one moving in the kitchen. He suddenly became fully aware of that which he had at first merely sensed subcon- sciously—a shuffling, stampering murmur from the direction of the corral. There were a large number of horses in that corral! ‘‘“Hosses! He muttered. ‘‘She’s a reg’lar hoss-band.”’ At that instant a man stepped into the fan of light in front of the doorway and en- tered the kitchen. Chuck recognized him immediately. He was a certain Rime Tolli- ver, a Farewell citizen, well and unfavorably known as a friend of Cutnose Canter. Chuck’s boiling rage and every single one © of his fears for Jane’s safety returned with a rush. On tiptoe he made straight for the window flanking the doorway. Which win- dow gave him a view into a hitherto invisi- ble corner of the kitchen. In this corner Jane, white and defiant, was sitting in a chair. Her ankles were lashed to the chair- legs, her arms to the spreading back. Rime Tolliver was loosening the lariat that bound her. “T want some coffee,” he was telling her, “an’ I want it now.” Adventure It was then that Chuck leaped through the doorway and clipped Rime on the neck and jaw with his rifle-barrel and all his strength. The Farewell citizen collapsed with a guggle. Chuck stooped to drag the body out of the way and was seized from the rear. A thick wrist and fist were under his chin. Another hand gripped the butt of his six- shooter when his own hand flashed down- ward. With a catlike twist of neck and shoulders Chuck contrived to free his chin and fasten his teeth in the flesh of the wrist. At the same time he bowed his body forward and heaved with all his strength. The man behind flew over his head and thudded back downward on the floor. The sudden jerk wrenched loose the wrist from Chuck’s locked jaws and likewise flipped Chuck’s six-shooter under the table. Chuck saw that his assailant was Cutnose Canter and that Canter’s holster and gun were under his body. The puncher whirled his rifle up to finish Cutnose once for all. But the stock catching and splitting on a ceiling-beam the rifle was almost torn out of his hands. In that one saving instant of time the agile Cutnose, lithe as a panther in spite of his squat build, gained his feet. His gun fired from the hip, spat flame and smoke witha roar. Unhappily for Cutnose, his nervous system had been severely shocked by the heavy fall. The bullet whirred harmlessly between Chuck’s arm and his side and sped out through the door- way. And through the acrid smoke cloud dashed Chuck Morgan. He was weapon- less, for he had dropped his now useless rifle. Again the six-shooter crashed, but Chuck’s hand was on Canter’s hand even as Canter’s had been on his at the beginning, and the lead splintered a window-casing. Cutnose, his yellow teeth bared to the gum, struck wildly at Chuck with his free arm, but the puncher jammed his face into Can- ter’s neck and the blow fell harmlessly on his shoulders. | Then the long fingers of the hand that had struck wound themselves in the back of the puncher’s collar and twisted cruelly. Chuck, his left hand clenched in a desperate grip on Canter’s gun-hand, his right arm round the man’s wrist, angled a leg back of Canter’s legs and strove to trip him. But Cutnose was as lively as a wildcat and a great deal stronger. He cleverly CoOMmiclsoo CO