Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

\ CHAPTER XXXIII. NEMESIS. HEN Red King struck the river trail he was traveling as strongly as when he began his long race, The miles that had stretched between him and the destination at which his rider aimed had been mere play for him. By the time he reached the river trail he was warmed to his work, and his giant, spurning stride carried him along in the shade of the fring- ing trees at a speed that made the wind whine and moan in Lawler’s ears. But Lawler did not offer to check Red King’s speed. The big horse was travel- ing at a pace that was all too slow for Lawler, now in the clutch of that passion which for many months had been smolder- ing within him. He was leaning a little forward in the saddle, riding the red horse as he had ridden few times; and then only in sport. In Lawler’s eyes was still that intense light that had been in them when he had been watching Shorty as the latter had been relating what had happened during the night and the morning. _ And yet Lawler betrayed no sign of ex- citement. His face was pale, and his lips were stiff and white; but his muscles were tense, steady, and his brain clear. He knew what to expect from Antrim. If Antrim expected him to come to his cabin, Antrim would be ready for him. He might expect craft and cunning from the outlaw—an ambuscade, a trap—anything but the cold, sheer courage that would be re- quired for him to face an enemy upon equal terms. d \ And so as Lawler rode he kept an alert e frail Charles Alden Seltzer Auther of * Riddle Gawne,” * Beau Rand,” “Square Deal Sanderven,”’ ote. eye upon the coverts and the shelters, upon the huge rocks that littered the sides of the trail, upon the big trees that Red King flashed past. Nothing happened. And Red King thundered down the trail where it doubled half a mile from the Dickman cabin, and swept out upon the level that surrounded the place, his speed unslackened, his rider still urging him on. , Lawler had forgotten Shorty. A mile be- hind him the giant’s horse labored, making better time on the level river trail than he had made over the plains. But Lawler did not even think of Shorty. His brain was upon the work that was before him, his thoughts were definitely centered upon Antrim and the Circle L men that Antrim_ and his men had killed. It was concentra- tion of a sinister character that had seized Lawler, and. in it was a single purpose, a single determination—to kill Antrim. He saw the cabin as he crossed the level —a patch of bare, sandy earth surrounding it; and the other buildings, with no sign of life near them. His gaze swept the cor- ral,; and he saw no horse in it. As he guided Red King toward the cabin he peered vainly for sight of Antrim’s horse. Not a living thing was in sight. The buildings were silent, seemingly deserted. And the atmosphere of the place seemed to be pregnant with a lurking threat, a hint of hidden danger. He.grinned as he plunged Red King to the door of the cabin—a grin which meant that he expected Antrim would be waiting for him, but which expressed his contempt of ambuscades and: traps. . As he slipped from Red King he drew his pistol and lunged forward, bringing up This story began in The Argosy for March 13. 85 ’ [DOO COIN @ S C@