Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

| Something’s Doing in Mexico 87 in an incredibly short time. As their horses trotted through the camp an infantryman climbed on behind each cavalryman and then the party set out at a gallop. It was a clever plan thus to carry re-enforcements, Sam thought. The extra men dropped off the horses about two hundred yards from the camp. They were evidently to furnish a first line of defense. This seemed a most propitious time for strolling toward the river. Every one was busy. Sam climbed up on the pile of cartridge cases to get his seventy thousand dollars, and from that vantage point saw a sight which caused his silky blond hair to stand straight up like so many bristles There was a thin, irregular line of soldiers in uniform approaching the camp from the direction of the river. Drawn up half way out of the water were six flat- bottomed boats in which these soldiers had floated silently down stream. The distant firing was only a diversion and the main attack was coming from the very direction in which Sam wished to travel. The uniformed soldiers advanced a few paces before they were seen; then several shots were fired at them from the camp. They replied with a thundering volley. Sam saw little splinters of wood fly from cartridge cases. He lost no time in dropping into the hole in which his money was concealed. The din and shouting were now terrific and the smell of gunpowder was in the air. Sam wondered if any one had ever occupied a worse position for viewing a battle, but when he contemplated the completeness of his protection he was unwilling to com- plain. Seconds became hours in such con- finement, however. He could hear every- thing and see nothing. It was clear that fighting was in progress at two widely separated points. The advance guard which had rushed out of camp was heavily engaged perhaps three or four hundred yards away, but the main battle was taking place in the immediate vicinity of the heap of cartridge cases. Little by little, however, it moved beyond the camp, but away from the river. That seemed to indicate that the regulars or federals, or as Sam dubbed them, the horse marines, were winning. As_ the shouting became more distant he began to wonder what, if anything, he would do in the event that a brown face accompanied by a bayonet appeared over his little patch of sunlight. His only weapon was a pocket knife gripped so tightly between the folds of his hip pocket that he could not extract it. SCARCELY had his hair resumed its accustomed repose on his head when curiosity began to plead for one fleeting glimpse of the situation. He was mentally toying with this temptation when the sound: of shouting and firing again began to approach the camp and several horses galloped past the cartridge cases. Sam guessed that General Cassiano’s skirmishers had also been routed and were falling back toward their support only to find it vanished. This flurry lasted per- haps fifteen seconds; the cavalry battle was plainly enough a running fight. Again the camp seemed deserted and Sam’s curiosity was once more urging him to risk his head. He might have done so, but a new alarm came like the thunder of artillery fire and stiffened his caution. His ears fairly prickled with the intensity of listening. If this were artillery it was evidently of a type that could move rapidly and fire incessantly at the same time, for it was approaching at an aston- ishing rate of speed. A few more minutes and the artillery fire became the roar of automobile trucks pounding the road with exhausts wide open. They were unquestionably coming right into the camp. Next the brakes began to grind and the engines ceased their noise, except for an occasional backfire. ‘“‘AHlere’s where one bum aviator breaks the altitude record,” Sam _ thought. ‘“‘Heaven for me, if I’m in luck. Or more likely. All for sev enty thousand dol- lars in wall paper.”’ ‘Not so far, Bill”? Uncle Dudley’s voice sang out. ‘“‘Draw around to the other side so Tom can back in here. That’s right, Tom. Now let’s get busy.”’ Sam heaved a sigh and lifted his head above the wooden cases. No one saw him. They were busy reloading the same trucks that had delivered this freight. ‘Hello, Uncle Dudley!’ Sam called out cheerily. Uncle Dudley looked straight up and saw nothing. Then Sam lifted himself clear of his hiding place and appeared on top of the mound of boxes. COMmicboooks.E© inn