Adventure Magazine Cover — page 182: what you’re looking at

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

172 body had brought home to him the con- ditions under which she was living, and it was really as much for her sake as his own that he endeavored to persuade Mark to see things his way. 7 “Think of your sister, man. there may be a chance that I can get this ship out of here. If I can’t we'll get out of here on foot—together. If she’d rather, ‘your sister can live on the post with you, someway or other. We can fix it. Why should you knuckle down to your uncle and let him whip you and make you work likea dog for food and clothes?” The young fellow’s eyes stole toward his sister. She had said nothing, but her heavily lashed eyes were glowing softly at the prospect the flier held out. Hemingwood was certain that he was on the right track, if he could overcome the mountaineer’s fierce, unthinking loyalty to tradition. “What do you say?” asked Hemingwood eagerly, his eyes on the girl. “T’d like t’ git away from Uncle Lafe, but-——= “And youre going to get away!” said Hemingwood exultantly. “Come on, Mark. I'll give you money right now—you and the girl start out for the nearest town where you can get the train, and Woodruff and I'll see if we can get out of here by ship. If we can’t, we'll follow you. Leave me your gun so we can ’tend to Uncle Lafe if he gets here before we leave—meanwhile you and your sister will be out of the way. “You’ve been waiting for a chance to get away, and now you’ve got it. And I’m giving you my word again that you’re going to have a friend in me, and that you need have no fear that anything will go wrong after we get down there. If you’re the kind of a man I think you are it will be no time at all before you’re a sergeant, on flying status if you want to be, and in that case you'll we making plenty of money to live comfortably. You owe it to yourself, old man, and to your sister even more.” “T’d like t’ do hit, Mark,” announced the girl. . The inner struggle that was going on in Mark’s heart was plainly discernible in his set face. Hemingwood and the girl waited silently. Whether by accident or not her fingers strayed over the faint, discolored streaks that banded her legs. Still Mark did not say anything. The I think. Adventure sun was about to disappear below the crest of the hillside across the small valley, and there was no sound to break the Summer quiet except the faint hum of busy insects. The tall trees rimming the clearing were motionless—not a breath of air stirred their tops. “Does your uncle beat you often?” asked Hemingwood of the girl. “Sometimes he hides me when I kain’t git out o’ the way—mostly when he’s drunk,”’ she replied softly. ‘Look hyar.” She raised the faded calico skirt to her knees. A livid scar that seemed to the flier to be weeks old stood out against the brown flesh. “Thet wuz a piece of wire,” she said calmly. Even Woodruff, who had been lying ap- parently asleep, pursed his lips as he saw that scar. The Duke sprang to his feet, his brown eyes and lean face expressing determination in every look and line. “Mark, you’re coming to Camp Henry!” ‘“T guess you’re right,” said the Ken- tuckian slowly. “Fine! Woodruff’ll tell you how to help him start the motor—I don’t know yet whether I'll make a try at getting out of here or not. We've got to ge 7 “STAND whar ye air!” 0° The girl gasped, and Mark’s face \ a wed grew bleak as all four of them turned to confront the tall, lanky old man who held a gun on them from fifty feet away. Only Woodruff smiled with relief. That crazy Hemingwood might have tried to get out of the field. _With long, somewhat unsteady strides the bearded old man came toward them. His nose was high and aquiline, his beard iron gray. At first glance he was impres- sive, and then one noticed the small, blood- shot eyes and the utterly hard, cruel mouth. His beard was stained with tobacco, and from beneath the dilapidated hat stringy, unkempt locks escaped in repulsive disorder. Hemingwood stood motionless; brother and sister arose to their feet. The girl held her skirt, as though unconsciously, in one hand. That livid welt around her knee could be plainly seen. For a moment the old man surveyed them with cruel satisfaction. His bloodshot eyes rested on the gun which was on the ground, a few feet from Mark. They remained only MICLOOOK (C©