Adventure Magazine Cover, November 10, 1924 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

68 “Nor will I, m’sieu. Spare the child.” “So,”’ said the Wolf, speaking into the dusk. “It is as I would have it, madame. Thus, since we both are satisfied——” — He broke off, moving back a step, so that his small hostage was before him within in- stant aim. As if to make sure, he lowered his weapon. “No tricks,” he growled as he raised it again. “Trust me,” muttered Madame Borel. She still spoke calmly, though her nails bit deep in her palms. For an age-long moment the two waited motionless. Then, with a swish and a clatter, a horse trotted in through the gap in the trees. What followed was a matter of seconds: Finger on trigger, the Wolf stared desper- ately. But the shadows were tricky. Try as he would he could see but little. The horse, a vague bulk, bore straight down up- onhim. As for its rider Now there was a glimpse of the animal’s head. For a flash it was sharply outlined. The man must be just beyond. Up went his arm. Should he chance it? There was not a moment to lose. “Shoot!” cried a voice and, his tension snapping, the Wolf obeyed unconsciously. Swifter than thought his finger pulled back on the trigger. With the roar of the shot came a cry from the child, a gasp, a snort, the pound of retreating hoof-beats. Half-unbalanced by the heavy discharge, the Wolf swung back on his paling. Then, as he sought to steady himself, a blow from behind sent him sprawling. Scarce was he down before, with a twist and a shove, he was struggling up again. But his paling was gone, his bad leg crumpled beneath him. Rolling over, he tried for a better purchase, squirming and snarling until at last he managed to sit up- right. And there, waiting for him, was Madame Borel—big, determined, a pitch- fork held spearlike in her capable hands. “No more,” she cried. “Be still, or I drive this through you.” By way of reply the Wolf snatched his revolver. Madame Borel allowed him to aim it before she spoke again. “Shoot—if you can,” she mocked. Adventure And she went on, her words pouring forth through sudden reaction: “ ‘Peasant wit,’ M’sieu Wolf. Did you think that I was blind when I placed your meal, as I cleared the table? Your pistol lay in plain view. No bullets showed in the chambers. I wondered why you did not reload. “Then, when you made me your offer, I knew. A man who would kill a little child would not spare the mother. The cause of your mercy was plain.” | She paused to sweep on with a scorn that was as sharp as the prongs of her homely weapon: “Yet you might well have used that one shot upon me. My husband will not ride home as I said. He is dead—killed by your men. My choice was no choice at all. ‘“‘As for the horse, he was at graze on the prairie. Each night he returns to his stable. Had you waited you would have been free. But you must needs torture a helpless woman. “That gave me my plan. I was not afraid. It all depended on old Canelle, the horse. If he came in the light, showing that he was alone, I knew that you would ride away, saving your shot for the journey. If he came in the dark I would make you shoot, and be ready for you.” She halted, her calmness returning, and finished quietly: “It has been as I wished. I am lonely here. And there is a price on your head. The money will help me to go away. I will claim it when the men come from town.” With an oath the Wolf lunged forward, only to draw back from the steady points of steel. “You lie,” he snarled. no warning.” Madame Borel smiled derisively. “You think not?” said she. ‘Then lis- ten. When my husband died, they gave me a@ pigeon marked with the name of this ile. If trouble came I was to set it free. They will be here soon, never fear. And all through that little bird. ‘Peasant wit’ again. Can you laugh at it now, M’sieu Wolf?” But the Wolf said nothing. Helpless, silenced, he awaited the coming of the Vigilantes. ‘‘There has been samme d CoMmichoolk Wh) CO 5}