Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

Vhe Torch-Bearers CHAPTER XI THE WORST BLOW OF ALL HERE followed a period of in- activity with many of the men returning to their homes. Among these were the Macsons, father and sons; and old Angus’ head was bowed as he rode from camp. He was think- ing of Simon, I knew. Before the Mac- sons departed a man joined us, or rather was brought in by one of the scouts, who impressed Angus and me unfavorably. He was well mounted and armed, and claimed ‘to have come from the Chewar district, and told some blood-curdling stories about the war of extermination being waged there. He seemed to be a fellow of considerable wit and assurance and was trying to locate the camp when picked up by the scout. He gave his name as Samuel Threll, but names counted little among us if a man could shoot and ride. In the brigade were several questionable characters. These either were ignorant of, or did not care for, the decencies of war. They needed a strong hand and Marion was the man te discipline them. Some were wofully ignorant of the cause of the war. ‘Those showing themselves to be beasts by instinct and attracted to the brigade by the hopes of plunder tarried only long enough to resaddle and clear out. If we heard of any depredations com- mitted by them the general promptly posted notices along the roads to the effect they did not ride with him and that any one was welcome to kill them on sight. But Threll was not of these types and yet he repelled me. He did his duties quietly and efficiently and was almost at once made & sergeant. So far as outward appearances could reveal anything he would make an excellent soldier. Yet the moment I clapped eyes on him I disliked him and, so I learned, did Angus. Tom and Dick _ thought him a fine chap. Threll’s gaze was not a bit furtive and yet was continually roving. Had he been a backwoods boy I would have said he was unused to seeing armed men in any numbers. He quickly proved to be attentive and prompt and had a quiet way of authority with the men. It was just before going away that old Angus remarked to me— “The new man acts like he knew his busi- ness and——” 8 113 I waited respectfully and, as he con- tinued silent, prompted— “And, what?” “And like he knew some other things we’d be interested in if we only knew them.” Angus had come to me to ask me to ride with him to the cabin. I refused because of what the girl had written me. The mo- ment he rode away I was sorry I had not gone with him. It‘was while in this dis- turbing frame of mind that I happened to glance up and find Sergeant Threll’s eyes focused on me, his gaze too steady to be casual. I sharply asked— ‘What are you staring at me for?” “Sorry, sir. No harm meant,” was the humble reply and his gaze dropped. Then came the daring attempt to capture Colonel Tarleton and all small prejudices and personal matters were ousted from my mind. Cornwallis, enraged at our suc- cesses at Tarcote and on the Black Mingo, sent Tarleton to run us down. We knew of the plan before Tarleton left Charleston, the general.in some mysterious manner being well informed of the enemy’s plans. Tarleton’s legion was at Camden and the general’s informant reported the colonel had sent orders for it to march down the Wateree and meet him. Instantly was born in Marion’s bold mind the ambitious project of intercepting Tarleton and capturing him and his troop of horse before he could join his main body. | The very simplicity of our plans war- ranted success. We rode with all haste to the Santee and arranged our ambush in the river-swamp near Nielson’s Ferry. We were barely settled to the tedious business of waiting when Shonts came in, his long face scowling, to announce that Tarleton had passed the ferry two days before. “Sergeant Threll brought in the last re- port relayed from you, Shonts. Your in- formation as reported by him marked to- morrow morning as the earliest time Tarle- ton could reach this point,”’ said Marion. “He didn’t git it right,’ roared Shonts. ‘““You oughter been here two days ago to do any good. That’s the word I sent in by him.”’ “T believe that Threll is a —— rascal!” hotly cried Colonel Horry. “Possibly,’”?’ mused Marion. “But pro- fanity won’t help any. Send him to me and we’ll talk with him.” Eager search was made for the sergeant oO COmicloo ~\ ) CO