The Argosy, June 1904 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

IN THE DRAGON’S CLAW.’ BY FRANCIS Z. STONE. The remarkable experiences of a Western editor, whose worst plight was by no means the charge of murder hanging over his head. SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED. HOLDEN, editor of the Santa Anita Sun, is on the verge of financial ruin, when Romeo Powers, a tramp printer, tells him that John Tolt is in town. He immediately seeks Tolt at the latter’s hotel, where he finds him in consultation with J. H. Freeze, the man whose enmity has brought about the crisis in Holden’s affairs. Moraily, Tolt is under obligations to the editor, who was his partner in a disastrous mining venture. He reluctantly agrees to meet Holden at midnight at the depot, when the last train brings him back from a neighboring town. As soon as Holden leaves the hotel, Freeze cautions Tolt against the editor, and succeeds in tying up Tolt’s funds. Holden gets a day’s time by telling his creditors that he expects assistance from Tolt. Markell, a friend of Holden, comes in from the desert and brings news of a strange movement among the Chinese. Holden goes to Louis, a Chinaman employed in a drug store, for information, and is warned not to print anything about the Celestials. To his surprise, Markell is alarmed at the warning, and asks him not to mention his name in the newspaper story of the Chinese movement. That night the editor is cautiously told by Louis that his life is not safe, but he arms himself and keeps his appointment with Tolt. On the arrival of the train, Tolt tries to avoid Holden, who overtakes and upbraids him angrily. Just as peace is made between them, Holden is hooded by a blanket, and after firing wildly is rendered unconscious. When bystanders come upon the scene, Tolt is found murdered. Holden has disappeared. So strong is the evidence of the latter’s guilt that he is indicted after the inquest, and bloodhounds are put on his trail. Markell, who alone believes in his innocence, recovers the trail when the dogs have lost it, and is convinced by footprints that the editor has been carried off by the Chinese. Louis is summoned before the grand jury, but cannot be found. Meantime Holden is carried to a great distance by his unknown captors, and finally finds himself at the bottom of a well so deep that the patch of sky at the top shows no bigger than a coin. And the bucket by which he was let down is not to be seen. The editor contrives a kite, the sight of which attracts a bee-rancher, Zendavesta Smith, to the well. Smith has been searching for Holden with an eye out for the reward, and in his eagerness to capture him has himself let down in the bucket. But the rope breaks, and makes Zendavesta a prisoner in the hole along with Holden. Then comes an earthquake and opens a rift in the side of the well, which leads the castaways into a subterranean passage, where they find treasure and things more horrible. Finally emerging, they are just in time to rescue the Chinaman Louis from a grave in which he has been buried alive by his fellow countrymen, who are still on the watch. So bidding Smith and Louis remain in hiding, Holden makes a dash for it to obtain help, and succeeds in reaching the railroad and stowing himself away ina freight car. This turns out to be occupied by three tramps, one of whom is after the reward offered for his—Holden’s—capture. The editor bluffs them in the darkness by making a sound with his knife as if it were a revolver, and holds them at bay while one of the tramps is working to break the seal that has made them all prisoners in the car. When an opening is finally obtained, he bids them all clear out, then swings from the car himself, only to be felied by a blow from behind with a coupling pin. The leader was pale, too, but from a mixture of greed and ferocity rather than from the fear which shook the CHAPTER NII. FOR BLOOD MONEY. T was the leader of the tramps who had felled Holden. No sooner had his victim collapsed than the man uttered a low whistle. His companions issued from the gloom and stole up to him; if it had been light enough, the pallor of their faces and the trembling of their limbs might have been remarked. others. Striking in the dark, he had taken no risk. “Did you get him?” asked the Kid in a shaking voice. “Dead easy. I knowed I could. Say, I’ve frisked him an’ he ain’t got no gun. He’s got nothing but some chunks of lead. He was bluffin’.” What the tramp mistook, naturally “This story began in the March issue of THE Arcosy. The three back numbers will be mailed to any address on receipt of 30 cents. 4 PRODUCED BY UNZ.ORG COMNNMIG DOOK ELECTRONIC REPRODUCTION PROHIBITED