Argosy, Volume XXIII — Index Page, 1897 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

F A CAMPAIGN OF STRATEGY. 597 them except their rifles, each of which held several cartridges in its maga- zine. ‘They were without a particle of food or extra clothing, and indeed car- ried only their everyday attire, with their broad brimmed hats. The fugitives were almost on the edge of the shelter when one of the mounted Apaches, who had set out to circle the building, caught a glingpse of the vanishing forms in the gloom. With a screech of exultation, he headed his pony toward them and rode like a whirlwind. ‘‘Quick !’’ exclaimed Mrs. Bozeman, with a terrified glance over her shoulder ; ‘‘ don’t wait an instant !’’ Under the belief that her sister would heed her call, she made a frantic dash for the shelter and succeeded in reaching it. Kate would have done the same, had the space between the two been a single step less, but the Apache was too near. She saw that a collision was inevitable, and if she permitted it to come while her back was to her foe, it meant her death, for it would be the veriest child’s play for the mounted devil to strike her down, and it, was because of this knowledge, that she did one of the bravest and most thrilling deeds of which there is any record. Heedless of the prayer of her sister, she stopped short, brought her weapon to a level, and without a flutter of the nerves, looked at the pony sur- mounted by the crouching demon, his hair flying in the wind created by his own speed; rushing down upon her like acyclone. It all had to be done in the twinkling of an eye, and pausing only long enough to make sure of her target, she let fly. | The bullet went as true as if directed of heaven itself. In truth, it did more irreparable damage than was intended or expected. At the moment she pressed the trigger, the on rushing horse, possibly actuated by that strange instinct which told him of his danger, flung up his head, as if to dodge the coming missile, with the consequence that he set his brain directly in the path of the bullet, which passed clean through it, as well as through the body of the hideous imp astride his back. Both plunged headlong to the ground, rolling over and ‘“‘ biting the dust ’’ in their last throes. It was a royal shot, which Al Bozeman or Austin Gannet could not have improved upon, and which sent.a thrill through the heart of Kate Warren as she saw what she had done. But there was no time for self gratulation. Other hostiles were certain to be ou the ground within a few seconds, and whirling around she dashed toward the point where her sister had passed from sight. In the flurry of the moment, there was no time for the fugitive to make sure of the precise course she took, nor to call to Mrs. Bozeman, who had preceded her by only a few moments. ‘The one thing was to get among the boulders and rocks where she could find immediate shelter from her enemies. They must have heard the death shriek that followed the discharge of her Winchester, and surmised the cause. Furthermore, she was convinced that a second Apache caught a glimpse of her flying form, as she dashed from the scene of the fatal encounter. 7 This supposition was right. Had she been less nimble on her feet, he surely would have overtaken her, though, since she still had several charges ra) (e(6) micbooks (ec)