Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

The Torch-B earers lively nor pleasant,” he ruefully admitted. I asked about my uncle and was pleased to learn he was held in the old esteem and that all loyalists sympathized with him for having such a brute of a nephew. At this point Posby smiled broadly and remarked: “Poor form to be hobnob with a chap who’ll beat up his old uncle, eh? Ah, but he’s an old fox! No offense. But the old gentleman is slick. How Buck Masters laughed when we were told about your brutal behavior toward him, and how you robbed him! Poor old Buck Masters! God rest his soul.” He was back in the dumps again, and I spoke of the genuine Lieutenant Drance’s arrival to divert his thoughts. With much gusto he described Drance’s appearance at headquarters and the caus- tic reminder that the uniform had been there before. The poor fellow was fairly abused for having been captured and so ~ successfully impersonated. A hundred pounds was offered for the bogus Drance, dead or alive. “T think I can fix it so you will meet the imitation Drance,” I said. He grew red with fury and vowed: “Tf you do, Jim, I’ll pull his nose! ! It would be a slap in the face every time I set eyes on the young reprobate.” ‘Pulling noses is awkward business, Bit it’s a matter for you to decide. Anyway, I believe I can give you the chance.” ‘Then don’t blame me for what hap- pens,” he roared. I dropped it and passed on to Tickridge and his finish. “This Big Simon must be an amazing brute. I’d like to see him,” he eagerly declared. “T should have told you that the poor fellow is dead. The young woman we go to pay our respects to is his sister.” And I described how Simon died and was buried in his victim’s coat and cloak. “Cursedly pleasing sportsmanship when he threw down his arms and went at Tick- ridge bare-handed,” he applauded. He developed a faint interest in the sister because of the brother’s prowess. He as- sumed she was a brawny, masculine type and I allowed him to remain in this error, anticipating that her dainty person and the avowal she was the bogus Drance would leave him thoroughly nonplused. We came to the crossing and followed the flat 119 stones to the opposite bank, and I was show- ing him where I had concealed my passes on my first visit to the region when our talk was interrupted by the galloping of a horse up the trail. “It'll be the girl by the way the nag travels,” I warned, my heart thumping worse than it did when I charged Tarleton’s men. I began to wonder if I hadn’t made a mistake in coming. She might flout me and put me to shame before Posby. “(Whoever it is the horse is running away,” sharply spoke up Posby, turning his horse so as to block the trail. Horse and rider now burst into view, and my heart ceased its tumult and became a clump of ice. It was young Tom Macson, and his eyes were set and staring like a madman’ S, and at every stride he senselessly belabored his tacky with a stout cudgel. The poor beast already was in a lather and must have dropped dead inside another quarter of a mile. I ranged my horse in fyont of Posby’s and yelled for the boy to stop. He did not see nor hear until almost upon us and even then he tried to go around me. It was not until I grasped his horse by the bridle and he had lifted a pistol by the barrel to beat me over the head that recognition shone into his eyes. “Cousin Jim! Then you’ve heard!” ‘Heard? Heard what?” I whispered, my mouth dry with terror. “Daddy’s dead!’ he choked. ‘But he took three of em with him. Dick’s dead or dying! Oh, my God!” And his arm went across his eyes and he broke down and blubbered as if his heart would break. Captain Posby fiercely sig- naled me to let him alone, and for several minutes, each an eternity, I waited for the dreaded climax of his terrible story. ‘“They jumped us while we was eating,” he hoarsely gasped. “I sat next the door and just got a glimpse of them and thought they was some of Marion’s new men. Feller looked like Threll was with them. Then I got a crack that laid me out. When I woke up Daddy was dead and poor Dick was dying, the cabin was burning. Dicky told me what had happened. And poor Elsie—poor little sis!” Now I could not wait; and before he could collapse again I had him by the shoulders and was shaking him violently. “And Elsie?” I shouted. ‘What of her?’ A comicloolkks.com