Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

South, West and North out above the cafon wall, rose the sobbing wail of a coyote to the stars. A voice in the shadow of the giant pepper-tree mimicked it perfectly, and flung out a laugh. A match flamed, and the red glow of a cigarito became visible. ““Outen es?”’ came the careless voice of the guard. ‘‘You’ve been down to the pulque mill, Pablo? I hope you brought——”’ The words ended in a startled silence. From somewhere far down the valley rose a shrill astonished cry in words that echoed high and far. ‘‘Porque me tires? Why do you strike me?’’ One of the guards, per- haps, caught by Hoskins. Silence followed instantly, no further cry was heard, but Hampton walked straight in upon the figure beneath the pepper-tree. There could be no hesitation now. The cigaret point guided his fingers to the brown throat; the thought of action after these weeks of helpless tor- ture maddened him, caused a furious access of savagery in his grip; like steel talons, his fingers ripped the life out of that brown throat before the cigaret had been extin- guished in the dust. Without a sound, without a movement, the guard was dead. Eli, too late with his machete, stood aghast and _ horrified. “Get his rifle and caps,’ said Hampton quietly. He straightened up, and sent his voice into the darkness*in a guarded call. “Nelly! Nelly! Are you here?” An instant of silence, the fluttering sound of a breath sharply caught, then the girl’s voice sounded softly. “Here, Dick, at the window, but there are bars.” Hampton was already following the sound of that voice. It conducted him to a window in the side wall of hewn stone—not a window of glass, but in the ancient fashion of the country framed solidly in wood and barred by heavily carved wooden grille. Against this, as he came close, Hampton made out the figure of Nelly Barnes, one hand thrust through the openings. ‘‘Stand back,” he ordered, and thrust his rifle-barrel into the grill-bars, and then flung his weight on it. There was a sharp crash of dried wood, and half the barrier came away. “Out—quickly!”’ As the girl emerged, Hampton caught her, heard a startled call ring out from some- where, and then held Nelly to him for an instant. Careless of the pain, he crushed ». 67 her against his breast, touched his lips to hers—then thrust her at his brother. “Eli! Take her quickly. Go with him, Nelly—I’m coming presently. Steal off, now, both of you! Not an instant to waste.” Bewildered, daring no protest, the girl was swept off into the darkness by Eli, and Hampton turned to the window. A guard was approaching from somewhere, drawn by the crunch of shattered wood. Hampton threw the fragments of the grill inside and then followed them with a swift and silent leap. Once inside the place, he caught a faint thread of light—a dim radiance that led him to an open doorway. He found himself looking out upon the patio, where, along the cloistered wall, little night lamps of oil flickered in niches. Hampton, smiling grimly, stepped to the nearest, took the lamp, and with it returned to the room he. had just quitted. He set it on the floor and glanced around. He was in one of the luxuriously furnished rooms, crowded with fine furniture and pre- cious loot of all kinds, and a doorway led into an adjoining room which was racked with rifles, revolvers and pistols of all de- scriptions. Hampton seized half a dozen Colt revolvers, strung them together by the chin-thong of his sombrero, filled the som- brero itself with caps and prepared car- tridges from the neat piles. He clapped the sombrero on his head again, hung the re- volvers about his neck and behind him, then loaded two more revolvers for himself. With these, he returned to the former room. No alarm seemed to have sounded—from the window he could discern nothing, could hear nothing; he realized that only a few moments had passed since that guard had perished beneath the pepper-tree. Now he heard the voice of another guard calling softly, knew that the second had approached and was searching. Smiling, Hampton turned back into the room, seized the brittle fragments of the grating he had flung inside, and went to the lamp. In two minutes a heap of furniture was dimly illumined by the creeping bluish flames of spilled oil. Once those flames reached the plastered reeds and timbers of the ceiling, they would not easily be quenched. ‘““Oue es?’ came the startled cry from out- side. ‘‘What fire is that?” The figure of a Yaqui came to the window opening, peering into the room. Hampton micloool C© inn