Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

126 had been so high on discovering the shack that the reaction left me sick at heart. Ganner was in camp but the girl had vanished. Her resolute spirit would gladly prefer death to the fate Ganner had planned for her; and if not for the words between the two villains in the road I would have as- sumed her to be dead. I rose to my feet and stared at the central fire. Posby softly whistled for me to drop on fours again. Ganner jumped to his feet and I took it for granted he had seen me. But he was erect from an entirely different reason. The squad we had seen galloping down the road was now streaming back into the hollow and the leader was impatient to re- celve its report. They rode in a bunch to the fire and one of them began talking. I. saw Ganner strike his hands together and I surmised he was being told how one of his tools was dead and that Ike was missing. I could not know if the scouts had found the man Posby had killed. Mw, | THE sound of a violent struggle in Peuce| the growth where I had left Posby 4§N} aroused me from my despair; and bowing low, I ran to aid him. I believed he was getting the worst of it, for his assailant, although able to fight fiercely, gave no call for assistance; and it is most difficult to throttle a man in the dark without his hav- ing at least one chance to cry out. As I glided among the trees the struggling ceased. The sound of labored breathing guided me and as I noiselessly approached I was rejoiced to hear Posby panting: = your cursed impudence! You would fight a king’s officer, would you?” “Posby!’’ I whispered. ‘Less noise, man. What is it?” ) “T’ve got hima tight, Jim, but blast my blood if I dare let go. Find his weazen with your knife.” A cold-blooded business, if not for thoughts of poor Elsie burning out my brain. I drew my knife and cautiously ran my hand over the tangled forms of the two men until it rested on a neck: ““Good , Jim! Not mine I investigated farther and found 4 more scrawny throat, and in locating it, my fin- gers trailed over a Jong bony face and a tuft of chin-whiskers. There was something strongly reminiscent in that countenance and whisker; nor did it connect up with any ) ! Adventure recollection of Ganner’s men. Posby had his fingers buried in the fel- low’s throat and I whispered: “Loosen your grip a trifle.” “He'll let out a cursed yell!” “But he didn’t when you were fighting with him.” “Eh? Bleed me if he did! But be ready with your snickerses. I'll loosen, but the devil snatch us if you haven’t room enough to do for him.” : I bowed my head, and as the pressure was shghtly relaxed the one word ‘‘Shonts’’ came in a gasping whisper. ‘Then I identi- fled the long, bony face and pendulous - whisker. Shonts, the scous, was the fellow I had been trying to associate with the pic- ture my groping fingers had translated to my brain. “This is Lance. Nod your head if you understand,” I murmured. “What the—” began Posby,- perhaps thinking I was addressing him. But I felt the head wriggle, and I told the captain: ‘Hands off. He’s one of Marion’s scouts. He’s the feilow who made you a prisoner.” * “The devilish arm-twister!’”’ growled Posby, reluctantly removing his hand and drawing back. “And to think that when I got my turn at him I had to have help!’ Shonts panted for breath, then huskily whispered: “Didn’t gin me a show. ‘Throw him in a jiffy if I have a square shape. I was fol- lerin’ you two an’ felt really friendly when I bumped into this cuss. Some whang- doodle at that!” ‘Following us? were here?”’ “Met young Macson streakin’ for the island. Where’s the gal?” | ‘“‘God help her! I don’t know. She isn’t in camp, but Ganner’s there.”’ “Then she’s near. Passed a likely lookin’ cabin near the edge of the holler. Just back of where I found your hosses hitched in the How did you know we laurel. Man out front with a gun. No lights showin’. Mebbe she’s held fast there.” I could have hugged him for joy. Posby was roundly cursing himself for his stupid- ity. We had passed within fifty feet of her prison. Ganner had not dared to take her into camp. “A feller don’t guard a dark cabin for fun,”’ Shonts hoarsely continued. “If he’s COMmicloo CN Vp) CO