Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

Lisbeth SI man he had known and trusted for years, had gone bad. ‘The fellow had become in- volved in gambling debts, and had _ bor- rowed all the money he could on the re- sources of the firm and left the country. Mrs. Cheney was doing her best to keep the business going, but unless five thousand dollars were forthcoming by the first of Jan- uary everything would be lost. Swiftly the freighter took stock of his resources. He had cleared up a little better than four thousand dollars on this last trip. He believed he could sell his outfit right there in Timber City for another thousand. And if he could get back to Salt Lake it would be the best investment he could pos- sibly make. For further information he sought out the man who had brought in the mail. “Man, I wouldn’t undertake the trip out of here this winter for all the gold dust in Timber City,” declared the man. “Should you happen to git over the mountains you’ve still hundreds o’ miles t’ make. There might be somebody at Fort Hall, but you can’t depend on findin’ help till ye git to Call’s Fort nearly t’ Salt Lake. It’s at- temptin’ suicide.” Cheney thought it over carefully. No one knew the perils of a mountain trail in the winter time better than he. On the other hand, losing the accumulation of years of hard and dangerous toil was not pleasant to contemplate. He had pulled through some mighty tight places in his time, sur- mounted obstacles that looked far greater than those now confronting him. 7 , | must be gittin’ old,” he mut- tered to himself. ‘‘There was a time when I wouldn’t ’a’ hesitated a minute at a thing like this.” It was foreordained that he should make the attempt. One thing Alex Cheney had never suffered from was remorse of con- science for having supinely bowed his head to the storms of adversity. It was too late for him to begin now. Two hours after the mail carrier arrived he had begun negotia- tions for the sale of his outfit. It was three days before he was able to close the deal for enough money to save his business and without it there was no use for him to start. Every hour’s delay meant danger. In selling his stock he had re- Served but one rugged, black mule in addi- tion to Lisbeth who, of course, had never figured in the deal. “S’pose yuh'll be wantin’ t’ buy a good saddle horse t’ carry yuh out now,” sug- -gested the man who had bought his outfit. ‘“‘There’s several good horses here that’s grain fed.” “No, Pili nde Lisbeth. She’s grain fed too,’ Cheney answered. The man laughed. ‘That miserable ole white mule yuh got propped up in that stable t’ keep her from fallin’ down?” “She ain’t fell pam down yet,” Alex said grimly. Within an hour it was known throughout the camp that Alex Cheney intended to ride his old white mule. Other men, with the best intentions in the world, tried in vain to dissuade him. It would, they contended, require the strongest horse in the camp to get over the mountains, to say nothing of the long trail over the desert to his final destination. But Cheney was adamant. Alex was a marvel at packing. By some sort of wizardry he was able to get every necessity for the trip, and two packs of oats for the mules as well, on the big black mule. He had packed up in front of the chief store in the town, and there was a crowd of loafers on hand to give him advice to which he paid no attention. Soon he was all ready to start except for saddling Lisbeth, and get- ting two small sacks from the storekeeper S safe. He had left Lisbeth standing at a tie- rack while packing the other mule and when he had finished he walked over and led her to the front of the store» The crowd COMICLOOOkKS. CO