Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

The Torch-Bearers her to a horse and took her north. Gan- ner’s making for Chewar Hill country— God put speed in your nag’s hoofs! If you love sis, don’t come back without her.”’ I ran back to my horse and called on the captain to make haste. He had found a crock and filled it with water and took time to carry it to the wounded youth. I paused only long enough to close old Angus’ eyes. He had striven so hard for these new United States it seemed too horrible he should die at the hands of such as Chace Ganner. Posby reappeared and dashed a hand across his eyes. “You know this cursed trick of reading signs on the ground better than I,” he gruffly called out. “So, find the road and we'll take it.” The trail was easy even for a city- dweller to follow as Ganner’s men had fled with no attempt to hide their course. It led from the creek toward the Pedee but swung to the north before reaching the river. From then on I knew we should travel parallel to the stream. “They have between fifty and sixty miles to make and we must overhaul them before they cover more than twenty-five,” I told the captain. “Rapping good! We'll attack on sight, the two of us,” cried Posby. ‘And it’ll be devilish fine sportsmanship, Jim.” “Once they reach Chewar Hill only a miracle can save the girl.” “No question about our overtaking the beasts inside of twenty miles,”’ he replied. The south country proving too ‘hot for him ever since Captain Harrison’s attack on his quarters, Ganner must have ridden hard to break across the British lines and make the creek. It stood to reason his horses must be far from fresh. Our mounts had traveled leisurely since their night’s rest and were good for many swift miles. The trail led through a desolate country and we saw but few human beings. Either the occasional cabins were de- serted, or their owners fled to the bush on our arriving. ‘Twice we halted and sought to find some one to learn if they had seen the band and the girl. One or two emaci- ated men after squirrels ducked into cover on sighting us. Three thin, sallow-com- plexioned women searching for ears of corn in a starved-looking corn-field were more brave or apathetic, for.they only straight- ened their bowed forms and stared at us ‘12! dully as we reined in and shouted questions to them. We got no response. Other homesteads had been given over to the flames and presented sickening pictures of desolation. ‘The effect on Posby was vis- ibly depressing, but I was quite accustomed toit. One trace of Ganner’s flight, however, shook even my nerves. A dead man anda dead woman, beside a crudely constructed drag, together with the marks of scuffling hoofs, told the gruesome story. Ganner had met or overtaken the unfortunate couple while they were hauling corn home. And he had murdered them for the horse. As the victim’s horse was sure to be a bony tacky and not of much account the crime evidenced desperate straits for at least one of the bandits. “Tf it can be our blessed luck to kill off some of the devils!” I heard Posby whisper. We halted only long enough to place the dead at one side of the road, to dump the miserable harvest of corn and pull the drag over the bodies as a temporary protection from four-legged beasts; then we were off again. Late in the afternoon my horse picked up a stone and I dismounted to remove it. Posby, who was ahead, kept on. He had advanced but a short distance when there came the sound of a shot to startle me; and Posby was wheeling about and Ee full tilt into the brush. The shot and his attack were almost simultaneous, revealing how rapidly the good fellow’s mind worked when seeking danger. I was in the saddle and racing madly to join him when there came a second shot. Was he done for and had the pursuit devolved upon me, alone? That was the momentous question I was asking myself when Posby reappeared in the road; and he was waving a long rifle. “Did for the beggar, Jim!’ he exulted. with more brandishing of the rifle. ‘Took his gun and munitions.” And he held up a shot-pouch and nadar ‘horn. “One man?”’ I asked. “That’s all,’ he regretted. ‘Tried to use a knife but I pistoled him neat.” I told him to wait a second and dis- mounting, crashed into the wood. I feared the dead man might be a patriot, who had glimpsed my friend’s hostile uniform. I found the fellow and was positive at the first glance he was one of Ganner’s men. I looked more closely and identified him as COmicloo \ ) ©