Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

50 force!” she implored. ‘‘My father’s a pris- oner in Richelieu’s post with all his men.” Involuntarily his mind flew back to the night when with this very weapon, and with other weapons more mighty, she had delayed him from reaching his York boats in time to prevent them being captured. Yet he knew this was no ruse of hers. There was no doubting the sincerity of her words as she poured out the story of Riche- lieu’s cunning and how with his hands al- most upon her he had fallen to her last shot in the gateway of his stockade. “Curse him!” Carlisle anathematized. “T hope it’s through his dirty heart. Let me help you up the bank, Joan. There! My men will be up in a minute.” From the top of the bank he began to call out the news to them, to Eugene Drum- mond, Missowa, Waseyawin and their four middlemen who with the coming of Winter at Grand Rapids had put aside canoe and paddle for toboggan and racket. They together with the drivers from the lower river posts cracked their whips more lust- ily, urging on the dogs. ““Marchel Marchel’’ they called. Hu!” With the spume flying from the toboggan hoods they made a rush at the incline, teams clawing tenaciously, track-beaters hauling from the front with tow ropes, drivers shoving from behind. Toboggan after loaded toboggan undulated over the crest amid a mist-like shower of snow. “Chaw!l Chaw!’’ yelled the drivers, and the giddes swerved to the right into the beaten track that wound up to the gates of Cumberland House. ‘‘Who comes there?’’ demanded the loud voice of Galt. “Carlisle,” was the answer. “Hurry up, Galt. There’s trouble over at Richelieu’s post, and we’re needed there.”’ Immediately the gate swung open, and the dog-drivers cracked their whips anew. “Vee! Yee!” they commanded. The teams hauled ’round to the left with the sweep of the trail and galloped tri- umphantly into the yard where they were swallowed up by a rush of shouting men. ‘‘Where’s Andrews, Galt?” asked Carlisle, bellowing to make himself heard in the clamor. ‘“‘Hfere, Paul,” answered Andrews himself, pushing through the crowd, garbed im his Winter gear, the heavy capote with the fur- ““Hul Adventure fringed, helmet-like hood drawn as close about his face as he was wont to draw the dun cowl and’ mosquito veil in Summer. *“V’m glad you’re safely back, also glad to see you’ve got supplies.” “Forest fires delayed the York boats, Father, so that the frost caught us.” *“‘Who’s that with your Ah—you, Miss Wayne.” “Yes, and it’s only by grace of a lucky bullet that she is here,’ Carlisle told him. “Richelieu, you understand! Her father and his men are prisoners, she says, and she did well to escape.” “You brave girl!’ eulogized Andrews, taking her hands. ‘But you didn’t—kill hime” he added anxiously. “I—TI don’t know,” confessed Joan. ‘‘I fired in his face, and he went down. That’s all I know.” “A job for you in any case, Father,’ intimated the Factor, ‘‘and who knows but you may have many more! Galt,” giving orders to the chief trader, ‘‘have the drivers of the lower river posts keep guard here. Arm all our Cumberland House force and bring them on our heels.” bata) HE TURNED through the entrance is 24) acvain with Joan and Andrews, and |_. __j Eugene Drummond, Waseyawin, Missowa and their middlemen sped after, trailed by the rest of the Hudson’s Bay men as fast as Galt could hand out the weapons. As they skimmed back on Joan’s tracks toward the Northwest post, they saw that the gate was still open, and at the entrance the girl hesitated with repugnance till Carlisle took her hand with a reassuring gesture. There was blood upon the snow but no sign of Richelieu himself. Ahead of them, across the space of the yard, bulked the log mess building. The door was closed, but a yellow glow sprayed from the lighted square of the windows on either side of the door-jambs. Listening, they could hear no singing or shouting, but the angry hum of voices buzzed from within as from a colossal hive of bees. “We'd better leave our snow-shoes here,” suggested Carlisle. ‘“‘And don’t make a sound in the yard.” He set the example by twisting his toes from their loops and sticking the tails of his shoes into the snow. ‘The others did the COnnicloookxs (C@