Adventure Magazine Cover — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

172 “Not a word.” Kinsty halted and stared at Knight thoughtfully. Then he announced: “Low youre all right and are the man you say you be. But at the first I had a sneaking notion you might be Greeby.” “The monster who lives with Indians from choice and kills his own people?” ex- claimed Knight in a horrified tone. For the renegade’s infamous acts had been rehearsed at the Big Sandy station although the man seldom ventured that far up river. ‘Now I know yourre all right,” chuckled kkinsty. “Only aman who’s all right could speak in that way. It was your scratched legs and arms that made me suspicious. Your calling like you did was the first thing to make me suspicious. Greeby is a master hand for yelling from the shore for some one to save his pelt by setting him across the river. Some say he’ll wade out in the water and pray to be took off.” “Y’m what I look. A poor, helpless man in need of a friend. Why do we halt? I have many hours of energy left in me if there’s a safe bed at the end of the journey.”’ “You think so but you’d go kerflummox first thing you know. You got to have victuals. We can’t git through tonight anyway. We’ll camp here off the trail and T’ll shoot something and make a soup. With a full stomach and some sound sleep you'll go through to Massie’s mighty fine.” “Tf you think best,” sighed Knight. “How far is it to the station?” “Twenty miles,” replied Kinsty. “Bout sixteen miles,” corrected a voice from the bushes. Kinsty exclaimed under his breath and dropped on one knee and cocked his rifle. Knight warned: “Tt’s all right. It’s a white voice.” “Tt’s all right after we look him over,” growled Kinsty. ‘Stranger, whoever you be, show yourself. Both hands up and empty.” A man stepped into the path between the two men, his arms raised, one holding a long Kentucky rifle. He said: “Here I be. Had to fetch the old gun along. Think I was red?” “I knew you was white. But keep your hands up. Knight, lift up his hunting- shirt so we can have a peek at his back.”’ Knight stared stupidly. The man good- naturedly requested: ‘Don’t waste time. This gun’s gitting heavy.” Then to Kin- HUGH PENDEXTER sty, “Just what you looking for, mister?’’ ‘“‘A red stripe up and down your back, Mister,” growled Kinsty. The stranger laughed and exclaimed: “Beats all natur’ how every one you meet you sort of think may be that skunk Greeby. Go ahead, younker. My name’s Daniels. Been in the bush so long my back ain’t very clean, mebbe. But you'll find no red stripe.” Knight stepped behind the stranger and pulled up the hunting-shirt. The back was that of a very muscular man. Daniels, without being told, slowly turned around, and Kinsty dropped the butt of his gun to the ground and barked— “All right. But I don’t take no chances with a strange white man this far down the Ohio, on either the Injun or the Kentucky shore.” Daniels chuckled as if it were a good joke. Then he silently surveyed Knight for a bit and briskly decided: “Feller’s half starved. Been running his legs off. Hide barked and scratched most tarnal. He oughter eat and sleep.” “Just what I was telling him,” agreed Kinsty. ‘‘He’s most bodacious to be push- ing through to Massie’s Station.” “Safe here for the night as he’d be at Mas- sie’s. What with Greeby and the Girtys and the Shawnees, the station is fair beset.’ “If they ain’t strongly forted he shouldn’t go there,” said Kinsty. “They can stand off the Injuns if white renegades don’t lend a hand and play some new deviltry. If Gineral Sinclair ’arned a lesson from Gineral Harmar’s defeat last year we'll have peace along this river. If he gits a red ax in the head it’ll keep on being death to any one planting corn north of this river. And I’m afraid for Sinclair. Little Turtle and his Miamis are ag’in him as they was ag’in Harmar,” said Daniels. “T don’t think this country will ever be safe for whites,” sighed Knight. “TI feel faint. Wish I could eat and sleep and cross into Kentucky and make back to Rich- mond. I’m mortal tired of the border.” “Make a fire and [ll fetch in some small game,’ said Daniels. ‘After we’ve et and rested we'll see what fits the young man’s case best.” He slipped into the growth and Kinsty scooped a shallow hole one side of the path and started a small blaze, feeding it with small] pieces of bark until he had a deep bed COMICOoOokKSs Cc C@