Adventure Magazine Cover — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

The Silver Fox — at the sheriff. A murmur of assent ran around the circle. “Boys,” said McMurtry, “I want to talk to Conroy. Barrett, take care of Wethers and keep him here.” He took the bewildered giant by the arm and led him into the back room of the store. “Now,” he said, “‘what about it, Jim? Is that true?” Conroy shook bis head. _“T thought not. Iseen aman snow-blind once before, up in the Barren Land, an’ he didn’t act like that. Shall I take off his bandage an’ see?” “No,” he said, “I seen already. He’s blind all right. He was sufferin’ last night an’ this mornin’. Besides, why should he make out to be blind if he ain’t?” The big man could scarcely comprehend the situation. He was numbed. All his ideas, all his ideals, had gone by the board, had been outraged, trampled upon, made a mockery by this man, his partner. His world was shattered and in the face of the ruin he stood inert and passive, dazed, be- wildered. Even now, he hardly believed Wethers’ actions. His mind tried to find a;reason, an excuse for this horrible turn of events. The sheriff laid a hand on his shoulder. They were old friends, which was why Mc- Murtry believed in Conroy. But he also realized that, with the crowd against them, they would have a hard fight to prove Con- roy innocent. And the time was short. Already they heard murmurs, guttural oaths, restless moving about in the front room. McMurtry groaned in helpless rage at his own impotence. Of course, they might fight or try to get away, but a fight meant at best only a few hours of grace and to run was out of the question for an officer of the law. “Say,” he said suddenly, “TU turn you loose, an’ you can make a try for it in the woods.” Jim slowly shook his head. ‘“‘No,”’ he said, “‘I don’t run.” The sheriff leaned: forward. ‘Then for ’s sake, think! Think, man. How can-we prove you didn’t steal that pelt? Put your brain in action. You haven’t much time. I’m only a sheriff, you know. If them fellows once git out o’ hand—” He shrugged his shoulders. The giant sat motionless. Slowly, with a era effort, he began to form a semblance 1 145 of order out of the tangled thoughts which filled his mind. He rehearsed each detail of the previous day’s events—breakfast, Wethers’ excited talking, the curing of the pelt, the distress signal, his partner, snow- blind, helpless and suffering and, finally, his own joy at being able to ease the pain ef Wethers’ eyes. At this point McMurtry heaved a sigh ) and slowly shook his head. “T don’t know very much about snow- blindness,”’ he remarked, ‘“‘havin’ seen only one case of it. But I bet: just the same Wethers ain’t snow-blind, no matter if you do say he is. I bet he’s foolin’ you. Nothin’s too low-down for that skunk to play.” Skunk? Skunk? thought Conroy. Oh, yes. He’d smelled skunk when Wethers came in last night. Then, slowly, hesitatingly, like Winter sunrise, a light broke over him. He leaned forward. “If we can prove Wethers ain’t snow- blind, we’re all right, ain’t we?”’ He used the plural with childish instinct for com- pany in distress. “Yessir, we are. But how you goin’ to prove it? Nobody ’round here knows any- thin’ about it. It’s pretty near unknown in these parts. Besides, you say yourself he was blind, an’ his eyes swollen.” “His eyes was swollen, all right, but per- haps it wasn’t from snow-blindness. I'll tell you what I think.” Yj Conroy waking up and becoming more alert and active each minute. genet a pretty long chance,” said Mc- Murtry finally, “but, far’s I can see it’s our only one. [ll try to talk to ’em first, an’ see what I can do.” He went to the door. ‘‘Boys,” he announced, “‘we’re goin’ to get this straight. Now listen. Conroy ain’t guilty. I know it an’ you ought to know it. An’ I——” “Shut up!’ commanded one of the trap- pers, stepping in front of the sheriff and his charge. He glanced back to be sure the crowd was with him, then went on. “We bin talkin’ it over amongst our- selves. Wethers answered enough ques- tions to satisfy us he’s tellin’ the truth. We all know you’re a friend of Conroy’s, an’ so nacherly you’d stand up for him. Now we want to git straight as much as you THEY talked it over at length, MICLOOOK C@