Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 133: what you’re looking at

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

RESTLESS panions had stopped to check the riot- ers in a dash for the roof after the fugitives. He did not pause, but took a six- foot leap down to the roof of Mose Dudley’s gambling palace, with Althea in his arms. The next roof was higher and in- volved climbing, but he swung the girl up to the coping and lodged her there, then drew himself up beside her. Six roofs were crossed, and there was no interference. Then he came to a black chasm. ‘There was an alley running between the buildings, and he could not leap it with the inert form in his arms. The firing continued at intervals, and there was no pursuit, but time was precious. He hung over the edge of the roof and lowered Althea by her arms, then let her go, and quickly jumped after her. They fell in sand, and he brushed the alkali from his eyes, resumed his burden, and hurried through the dark alley toward the rear. Blundering, stumbling over unseen rocks and clumps of cactus, he followed the rough trail at the rear of the build- ings till he came to the end of the row, and crept warily along the side of a house toward the street. There, in the flickering light from the fire up the street, he saw two horses, and a man was holding their bridles. He stepped forward with the long- barreled gun advanced. “ Hands up!” he cried sharply. The man cried out in fright and clapped a hand to his belt, and Nor- man fired pointblank and dropped him. The horses shied skittishly, tossing their heads, and one wheeled and went galloping off. It was a terrible moment., He let Althea fall, leaped wildly tor the re- maining horse and caught a stirrup leather. The animal struck and kicked at him, but he kept his hold and seized a flying rein. GUNS. 123 The horse gave in and became al- most docile, he lifted the girl to the withers, balanced her there, and got into the saddle. Knowing what he might expect, he clung to the high pommel like a drowning man to a raft, and gathered Althea within his arms. The horse bucked, on principle, but not violently, yet it shook the rider and dazed him. There was another jump, less severe, and the beast found that the two persons still remained. It gave up in disgust and started off at a lope. Norman settled himself and his bur- den, placing the slim form across the saddle in front of him and supporting her with his left arm. ‘He found a quirt hanging from the pommel and struck the horse smartly. It broke into a gallop, and they went down the dark road through the hills— the road by which they had entered Split Cafion in a buckboard on the day of Norman’s first adventure in the great wild West. CHAPTER XII. THE HERITAGE OF HATE. N they rode into the night, the darkness closing in around them like a cloak to shield them from any possible pursuers. Behind them sporadic outbursts of shots and yells told that some of the little band who had been barricaded in the jail must still be alive, while a great glow in the sky marked the spot where the Spindell mine was burning fiercely. The girl in Norman’s arms was limp and inert. There was a look of help- lessness in the blurred outlines of her face, and he gathered her closer to his breast as a wave of protective feeling surged through him. Not knowing when their escape might be discovered he pressed on, spurring their horse from time to time as that animal showed signs of growing weariness un- der its double burden. GEomichbooks (EO)