Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

AVALANCHE TACTICS. of pain came from him. Enraged, he sud- denly dropped both hands, crouched and leaped, endeavoring to grapple with the agent. But at this sort of game Avalanche Mitchell was right at home. Stooping swiftly he sent his shoulder squarely into the pit of the oncoming Bode’s stomach, wrapped his arms about Kehoe’s knees and heaved. It was a savage tackle; Kehoe hit the platform with a crash. ‘“ Better call on Hoxie!’’ prodded Dex, grinning again as he watched Bode scram- ble to his feet. ‘Go to hell!’ panted Bode, and charged. in again. Once more the sledgelike blows beat upon the agent’s guard. Parrying, shifting and dodging, he managed to avoid most of them. But a few got through, most of them robbed of their greatest sting, but stil: powerful nevertheless. A huge fist grazed Dexter’s chin. An- other landed over his left eye; he felt a trickle of blood. He decided the thing must end—he could not afiord to take any more chances; a lucky blow might put him out. “ Watch out for yourself!” flashed Dex, aad for the first time assumed the offensive Seriously. Now Kehoe undoubtedly had strength, but after all that was about all his game amounted to—just the brute force of it. With lightninglike precision Dex’s knuckles played upon him, blindingly, unceasingly, on face and body. Panting and gasping, Kehoe yielded a step. Mitchell’s fist found a clean target again, and Bode gave another step. With wary eyes Dex watched the sly Hoxie, hov- ering just behind Kehoe. As Dex drove Bode back he saw the apprehensive Hoxie suddenly dodge in an attempt to get in back of him. “IT thought so, Kehoe!” grunted the agent. “Here comes your help—and something else!”’ He feinted, threw Bode off, and struck powerfully. There was a crack as the fist found Bode’s chin. Kehoe dropped hard. Dexter wasted no more time on this op- ponent; Bode was down and Bode was out. ‘““You’re next, Hoxie!” cried Dex, whirl- 29 ing on Kehoe’s amazed and now frightened companion. ‘Oh, boy, but I owe you one!”’ VIL. IMMEDIATELY after Dexter had left the house, Jessie Lister ran up the stairs to her room. The room was dark, and without striking a light she went quickly to the window that faced the rear of the station. From where she stood she knew that she could see the gleam of the lamp in the up- Stairs room of the depot when Dexter lit it —if he did. If it were lit she would know that he had at least reached there without molestation. the gleam— As Dexter walked down the unshaded, brightly moonlit road, Jessie could see him. She saw him reach the station, saw the black blur of his figure disappear around the corner. Impatiently she waited for the gleam in the upper window. Several long minutes she stood there; no sign. Fear gripped her heart; she twisted the curtains with clutching fingers. An- other minute she waited—then spun about and ran back down the stairs. Her father was not in sight—doubtless he still was in the store. Without a second’s hesitation she slipped into her coat, pulled a round woolen bonnet on her head and ran out the door. For the second time that night she followed Dexter Mitchell. On flying feet she came to the depot. A cry of pain reached her ears. Heartsick, she flew around the corner—and paused, smothering the word that trembled on her lips. Twenty feet from her two men struggled. As she stopped, one of the men seemed to spring from the platform, backwards. He rose in the air—fell; and as he fell she noted that he dropped beside another fig- ure that already rested upon the snow. The moon shone on the quiet two—Kehoe and Hoxie. She looked at the man who stood erect, his back to her. ‘“ Dexter!”’ she called, and ran to him. He whirled about, incredulous. ‘“ Again!” he cried, astounded. “Oh!”? she exclaimed. ‘“ What hap- pened? What have you done?” CONMUC NOOLK But if she should not catch. CO