Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

(re ™ CAPTAIN LIGHTFOOT 123 ~ horseman and little by little got close to him, and finally the man rose in his saddle and waved one arm violently. Trim! By the grace of God! And then shortly they were riding side by side across the meadow and Michael’s spirits had risen to fever pitch in spite of the painful throbbing of his leg, and when they took a tall hedge without a ' bobble, he yelled loudly and waved his hat. And now they settled down to the long pull, leaning over their horses like jockeys in a terrible, whipping, kicking Derby finish, and the countryside rolled away from them like a huge saucer while the big white moon went effortlessly along, peering, showing the features of its great face, placidly amused; and at last Trim shouted in a lusty voice completely foreign to his normal everyday self: “‘ We’ve lost em! We've lost ’em! ” And, wildly exhilarated, Michael stood up in his stirrups and shouted. And Trim stared blankly into the semi-darkness. Was it Doherty himself come back? They were riding at a walk now, following the line of a tall hedge which screened them from the Dublin road. ** You saved me with that pistol shot, Trim. I would have walked right into their arms.’ “ Ay,” said Trim calmly. ‘‘ As soon as you left, [ had a feeling— I don’t know what. So I sent the boys back to Dublin with the coach, then I hid out beyond the old buildings—glad to get away from that creepy place—and then I heard them coming.”’ Michael groaned. ** T have a ball in the thigh, Trim, but it was spent when it hit me, and it’s not much bother.” ** Let’s get it out.’ ‘No. Dublin will be soon enough. Doherty had one in his calf for weeks. I took it out for him at last one night at an inn. He was dancing a jig, and it hurt him Trim nodded slowly and smiled. “ ‘Ah, Doherty! ” At eight of the clock the next morning, they were moving easily along a back road which ran roughly parallel to the Dublin road. It was a grey day with low, dark clouds and a threat of rain in the air. ‘They had stopped, supped, and rested just before dawn, and the horses now seemed in good shape and ready for the journey ahead. And so the morning and afternoon passed. And finally, when for the first time that day, the sun showed itself low in the western sky, they turned south along the reedy bank of a stream until finally the mountains had been swallowed by the descending night—and then, all at once, it seemed to Michael that there had been a tremendous explosion, not so much of sound as of concussion, and he found himself sailing through the air, and then he landed with a crash on the back of his neck and lay stunned. Trim had torn past him and was having a hard time pulling up his mount. Michael rolled his head from side to side, trying to comicloooks.comn) ‘ oie