Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

Native Born ain’t discovered I shoot you.. How you like that, hey?” Leep mustered his icy grin. “T shoot your left foot, and in five minutes again I shoot your right foot, and in five minutes your left hand, and in five minutes——”’ Zuanich gestured to indicate a continuous process and added: “You've got hour.” He snapped the watch shut and said con- versationally to Vike: : “Twistin’ makes ’em fight. Waiting makes ’em wilt. He took the carb sure. He come back wit’ it by t’ree o’clock.”’ Zuanich sat down on his favorite box, pretending a great leisure. Smith went flitting outside to collect the odds and ends of kitchen utensils around the trees. Leep followed him. “Zuanich is going to get rough pretty soon,” he said whimsically to the old man. “Us Americans have got to stick together.” The wisp of a man turned on Leep with a fierceness beyond any apparent cause. “Don’t say ‘us Americans’ to me! Don’t ye do it!” ‘“‘Zuanich needs to be singed,” declared Leeper, fierce too all at once. ‘Him and the four foreigners, and I’m going to singe ’em!”’ “Don’t look to me for help, boy. I won’t crook my little finger for ye. I—I-———’” The old man was terribly shaken by some inward fear. Both were speaking in sub- dued tones. Smith kept on jerkily, his hands trembling, his voice running to high notes, though not loud. “TI—I don’t dare help ye, boy. Don’t dare get broke up er cut and tooken to a hos- pital. The officers would: come a-askin’ what happened here. They’d pry and probe and find out I’ve got a—record. Find out my name ain’t Smith. You leave trouble alone, boy, and give me a chance to get back to Canada aud the North.” “But when Zuanich leaves here he’s go- ing to Seattle,” protested Leep. “You get down into the U. S. whether or no.” “Touch and skip, that’s all. Leave his lousy immigrants. Coal Harbor is Zu- anich’s hangout. He'll be at Vancouver by morning. Don’t ye go troublin’ trouble, boy, till old Smith’s clear o’ the border of the U.S.” “What you want me to do? Set mum t’ree quarters of an 69 and let him leave me here marooned like a goat on a roof?”’ ‘“‘What do I care for that? I mean, for an old man’s sake ue “Know what I’m going to do?” Leep broke in. ‘Gonna grab Zuanich’s gun off o him. That Hindu and that China egg and two or three more don’t like Zuanich any more than I do, it looks like. Maybe they’ll pitch in and help me.” “Oh—oh!”’ wailed the cook. ‘A reg’lar cuttin’ and slashin’! I’m afeard of a knife. They cut and cyarve so almighty easy.” He made a sort of reminiscent gesture, like passing a blade back and forth. They gathered up the odds and ends of the kitchen things, among them a butcher knife that the old man handled a bit awe- somely, and carried them into the house. Every eye glued itself on Leep as on a freak or a notable or a man about to reach an end. Their eyes made him cold. He forgot about grabbing Zuanich’s pistol. He dropped a piece or two of the tinware in his confusion, and for an excuse to get out of the house he took up one of the boxes of utensils and went lugging it down to the Jaunch. . But when he had set it in the gal- ley and faced returning to the shack his courage was water. He stood on the nar- row board gangplank in the rain, sick frem uncertainty. But he had to go back. Had to act to save himself. He made up his mind ab- ruptly what to do. He would go in; and, pretending to stoop over and whisper to Zuanich where he sat on the box, he would shove and upset the man and in the surprize snatch out the gun. If he failed the missing carbureter was still his safety bond, for Zuanich would not dare kill him until that was found. : Then he was saved the return to the house. Abruptly the hijacker and the gang came pouring from the shack through the fringe of brush and trees. Zuanich came with the short, quick steps of an angry man. “You come down here,” he charged sus- piciously, “‘to do more funny t’ings to my boat.” He went on board, disappeared inside, came out again in a minute looking molli- fied at finding no further damage. He swaggered close to the Missourian. “No more funny tricks,” he warned. “T won’t wait for t’ree o’clock.”’ COMiICcloOoe