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Sword AND Anvil Jby George FoxhaU

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ARGOSY In answering this advertisement it it desiralle that you mention this magazine. EH‘ ■■■■■■ ■ :^.=Xski- ■■■■■■ ' . . f=5K° I ArgosyI AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE Voi. cviii ISSUED WEEKLY number 2

CONTENTS FOR MAY 24, 1919

FOUR SERIAL STORIES SWORD AND ANVIL. In Three Parts. Part I...GEORGE FOXHALL 177 CHAPTERS I-V BLUE FLAMES. In Six Parts. Partin...ETHEL and JAMES DORRANCE 236 CHAPTERS XIV-XVIII THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE. In Five Parts. Part IV. CHAPTERS XIX-XXII GEORGE WASHINGTON OGDEN 292 THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. In Six Parts. Part VI.EDWINA LEVIN 316 CHAPTERS XXXVII—XLU

TWO COMPLETE NOVELETTES WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED.raber mundorf 209 “ PIZEN ! ”.CHIEF HENRY RED EAGLE 264

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VoL CVIII SATURDAY, MAY 24, 1919 No. 2

^Worcf ancf (n[ George FoxKall Author of "Gonins of Victory." "McPhcc’o Sensational Rest.”.

CHAPTER I. of Queen Elizabeth.” The last of the great knights was he, or the first and premature No awe the eyes of recreant king can give When on a true man’s vengeful sword they arrived of those great English gentlemen look; whose brightest stars were Raleigh, Drake, No more of majesty in him doth live Frobisher, Grenville, Howard, Sydney, and Than in a squirming worm upon a hook. half a score of others. —The Balance. Once before had Lord Winston ridden CS.D WINSTON rode a questing. Out¬ upon this quest and gone back to France lawed he was, and fugitive, but by his with the quest unfulfilled. Fearlessly and side a blade that no single blade in openly he had ridden, for even Henry the England would dispute, between his knees Eighth, who seemed to fear nothing on earth, Tfis great black charger, Queen, and in his including the Pope, knew better than to breast the blithesomeness of a great spirit. kill or imprison the chief of the great Broth¬ For you shall find here, in Rupert, Earl erhood of Swords, though outlaw him he of Winston, a man of such rare chemistry might without appeal or vengeance, con¬ as could scarce then be found in that tyrant fiscating ,his lands and sending him — or and evil-ridden land; a mighty fighter, a allowing him to go—into exile. poet, whose heart sang of rich beauty, a For Winston, in defense of his orphaned gentle knight whose knightly vows dwelt sister’s honor, had held King Henry where like the whisper of ordination within him, no other human being had ever held him in protecting the weak, reverencing the chaste, earnest, at the point of his sword in the and meeting the grim and vicious snarls of maid’s own chamber, when the king was a licentious tyranny with laughing contempt, guest in his own house. content to make his sword the warden of his- “ A blot upon fair knighthood and com¬ life. mon human decency, art thou, Sir King,” To him the ancient chivalry was a living he had told him, “and a stain upon the symbolism of high virtues, vitalized by a throne of England which a thousand years touch of the intellectual spirit that was soon shall not wipe out. Recreant knight and to sweep England into “ the specious days false king, art thou, and I do, hereby, for- J Argosy K 178 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

swear my allegiance to thee, demanding in too few such and, mayhap, deserve as few. the name of the Brotherhood of Swords, the I will write; not for thy threatening sword, right to depart unhindered and unhurt from nor for the Brotherhood of Swords, but be¬ thy dominions with my sister and all my cause thy strong humor pleaseth me. As goods not held in fief from thee. Here for the maid, thy sister, the Lady Gertrude, shalt thou write it, declaring all future give her the king’s most humble duty, and writings gainsaying it void and false, and sue her for me her most gracious pardon.” seal it with thy signet, which I will keep “ A very pretty story,” thought Winston, until I board ship. .Else, by God’s light, “ for the believing of which I should soon thou diest now.” figure in another pretty story, which would King Henry, known as Bluff King Hal, lead to the loss of my head, an he dared, probably because he had almost everybody and at least my banishment in poverty.” bluffed into believing that he wasn’t such The king wrote. Winston read. The a bad fellow after all, in spite of his little king sealed the document with the ring from weakness for burning people and chopping his finger. Winston took the ring. The off their heads, and being in every other king laughed with well affected good nature. way about the most contemptible ruffian “ Safely return to England whene’er that ever ruled in England—King Henry, thou wilt, Lord Winston,” he said. “ Thy though he was the color of a dead skate for lands shall be secure. I am not a man to a while, tried a little bluffing on Lord Win¬ bear a grudge long.” ston, who, in the language of our own day, “ So I have perceived, sir; which same couldn’t be bluffed, because that shining brevity keeps the headsman busy. But re¬ steel ace he held was better than any lone member well what was conveyed to you king in the deck, and he knew better than when five thousand swordsmen, nobles, to give it up. knights, and gentlemen, banded themselves “ Thou art a man after mine own heart, into the Brotherhood of Swords, because Winston,” said the king. “ Happy is the your head-choppings and your love affairs king who has even one subject so fearless were too numerous. Not one of us may die and honest. Put up thy sword. Thou hast except after trial by our own sworn judges, nothing to fear from me.” At which Lord and none of us may be tried for defending Winston chuckled deeply. the honor of our women. Well do I know “ I fear you not, Sir King,” he said. your skill in finding other causes for which “ An you are wise, however, you will fear I might not make cause with the Brother¬ me, for never yet has Winston broken his hood of the Sword, and for that reason will word to friend or foe. Write!” I hie me to France.” “ If thou would’st leave England, thou “ And serve Francis I?” need’st not our royal passport. On the “ An he will take my service.” word of a king, I will hinder thee not. Thou “ The most trenchant blade in Europe! shalt go scatheless or stay scatheless.” Doubt not Francis for that!” exclaimed “ Scatheless I will go, I and mine. Write, King Henry bitterly. and seal! There are the tools.” “ Your majesty e’en put so slight a value “ Dost flout our kingly word?” on my sword as to offer most deadly insult “ Not I; but I will e’en have it written and dishonor to my house and fame.” down. You change your kingly mind too “ Francis is no saint,” sneered Henry. easily, and I would save your life, for the “ Nor is he dastard.” day you change your mind on this is your “ Thou speak’st thy king most vilely.” last day on earth.” “ No king of mine, who acts in mine “I am unused to threats.” house the ruffian and prbwling thief of “ The more beware of them. I am no virtue. Goto! Thou’rt but an o’erswollen man to threaten idly. He who threatens a and coarse lump of vice, and I, true knight king must make it good or die.” to all my vows, do esteem thee less than my “ By my crown, thou art a man, Lord groom, who, bound by no vows, doth yet Winston, fearless and upright, and I have live decently.” SWORD AND ANVIL. 179

“ Thou wagg’st a rude tongue behind thy defending their lives or honor, especially—. naked sword,” growled the king. “ Yet will such was the evil repute of the monarch— I suffer thee thine honesty and prove my¬ the honor of their women. self thy king by large forgiveness. Hold’st thou still thy purpose to go to France?” “ I hold it. And now I will conduct CHAPTER II. you to your chamber, sir, and by God’s A tongue that e’er, by what it said light, if you leave it again this night you And what it said not, boasted lies. die.” —The Recreant. Kings are supposed to become very dig¬ nified and majestic when mere subjects use CIR JOHN TORREY was bragging about such language to them, but cold steel is a his swordsmanship and his sword and great equalizer, and as for majesty, the his shrewdness and his favor with the king vicious and self-indulgent king was but an and his success with ladies and the still un¬ ill-bred booby compared with the magnifi¬ accomplished prowess he was about to ex¬ cent athlete and polished gentleman who hibit at the coming tournament. In short, lashed him with such fearless contempt, yet Sir John was bragging about everything withal as coolly and lightly as if the king that he could think of or anybody else sug¬ had been but a village churl. gest, including his unearthly ugliness, for Although but twenty-five, and as yet not which he was almost as famous as for his fully risen to the great fame that he was villainy. soon to achieve in grim warfare under the Boasting is one of the most entertaining, banners of Francis, Lord Winston had al¬ of occupations, but it needs a sense of ready acquired a fame second to none in the humor. It should be done with a laugh and knightly games and sporadic troubles of the received with a anile. Sir John sneered or time, while as a swordsman, the finished scowled when he boasted; the sign of a cur. use of whifh weapon was now becoming Sir John was a cur. Also, he was less than developed to an art, he was even then half sober. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even widely acknowledged a master without peer have boasted, being too sullen and un¬ in England, a reputation which had gained gracious even for that. for him, together with his well known It was in the Red Lion Inn at Tadcaster. chivalrous and gallant character, the lead¬ Dozens of knights and noblemen were on ership of the Brotherhood of Swords. their way to the military fete that was to For, in those days, few men were trusted. be held next day outside of York. It was The gallows, the block, and the slow fires expected that the king would be there. of Smithfield were devourers of trust and Some said he might run a course, but others friendship. The friends of the king were no scoffed at the idea and said the king’s days safer than his enemies; the enemies of the in armor were over. Pope no safer than his friends; the Queen The best room of the inn had been of England no safer than the maid of Kent. thrown open as a general room for the dis¬ A whim, a lust, a passion, and the strongest tinguished guests, in which they could fore¬ friendship led, like the bitterest enmity, to gather before they went to their beds. In the Tower or the fire. an ingle nook some four or five quiet but So, came the Brotherhood of Swords, and convivial gentlemen were gathered around that gave the king’s temper something to a small table, paying little attention to Sir ponder over, for in it were his closest John and his noisier group, and skilfully friends, his best soldiers, gentlemen of his parrying the attempts to include them or guard and gentlemen of his household, as to be included by them which he made. well as men on whom his ripe resentment It was this led Sir John to more wine and was ready to fall. It was a purely defen¬ more noise and the loud retailing of stories sive society, allowing none of its members of intimacy between himself and the king, to begin a quarrel against the king, and who, it appeared, invariably addressed him offering them no protection except when as “ Jack.” 180 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ They say the king will give a jeweled “ I said naught of weddings. The maid sword, made by Elizabeth the Sword- is an artisan’s daughter.” Maker, to the best swordsman at the Somebody tried a laugh, but these were tournament,” said a tall, thin knight, Sir for the most part men of an unwritten but Walton Carr, from Lancashire. “ Who, inviolable code. No true gentleman would think ye, will win it?” _ harm a daughter of the lower and weaker Torrey laughed his ill-bred, mirthless social order. The laugh cackled to a swift sneer. “Win it! Go to, man! Tis al¬ and eloquent silence. Men stirred uneasily. ready won. I saw the sword in the king’s “ How came this fellow in here,” drawled own chamber. ‘ ’Tis a way I have dis¬ the blond nobleman to his companions, covered of «making you a present, Jack,’ “ with his brag of swords and maids? Me¬ said his majesty to me, ‘ for an you cannot thinks he should consort with the sutlers. win it from that rabble Of clumsy north When Winston sat amongst us, we tolerated country swingers of old iron, I will ne’er none such. Even churls were knightly speak to you again! ’ ” seeming when Winston was about.” “ The king,” said a quiet, scornful voice, “ The truest knight of us all, by St. breaking the dead silence that brooded for George,” said Lord Rossford. “ An he an instant over this insult, “ was seeking a were here we should hear little talk of certain excuse for never speaking to you swords from this same Torrey.” again; not for giving you a present.” This was being spoken in a tone that did The speaker was one of the group at the not quite carry to Torrey, who, catching table in the ingle-nook, a ruddy, clean-com- the name of Winston here and there, stood plexioned man of solid build, with cold, blue watching the group with an extravagant eyes and strong, handsome face. sneer, for he was Winston’s bitter enemy. “ He must then, have known that others Rossford rose to his feet and now spoke in than you would enter the contest, my lord,” a louder tone, addressing the entire gather¬ snarled Torrey. ing. He lifted his wine cup. “ By my faith, I think thou art wrong, “ Gentlemen all, on the eve of a gallant Rossford,” laughed another of the group, tourney I give you a toast. We need some¬ a great, blond giant. “ Methinks the king thing to remind us of our ancient chivalry. was but trying to forestall the stealing of I broach you the most gentle knight, the the sword.” finest swordsman, the greatest warrior, the “ They say,” put in Sir Walton Carr, stanchest friend, the most dreaded enemy who seemed to feel it a duty to get Sir in Europe; the very knight of knights, John both into trouble and out of it, “ they whose vows are incense offered to the say this Elizabeth is the most beauteous saints; whose sword is a flame around the maid in Christendom. Have you seen her, head of innocence; the virgin-hearted and Sir John?” mighty; the great chief of the great “ The ugliest hag that e’er escaped the Brotherhood of Swords, Rupert, Earl of stake,” laughed Sir John, by no means un¬ Winston.” willing to ignore the blond giant’s insult. A score of men were on their feet at .“ Now, as for beauty, there is a maid hard once, wine cups and tankards held high. by my Yorkshire estate who transcends all “Winston!” they shouted. “May he maids in England.” soon return! Remember ye,” said one, “ Ye would make a pretty pair,” sug¬ “ that little deep-born laugh.” “ Aye, mar¬ gested one of the north country knights; at ry! Like a caress of death it was.” “I which there was a general laugh. heard it once in Flanders. My horse was “ I have already decided on’t,” said he. down and a bull of a Bavarian mercenary “ When you have won the sword. Me¬ was over me with an ax. And then I heard thinks it ’ll be just as easy.” The north that short, deep laugh and the great Ger¬ country knight leaned toward satire. “ I man bull was a ghost. Saw you ever so pray you bid us to the wedding. I am joyous a fighter?” a lover of contrasts.” Torrey had taken no part in this im- SWORD AND ANVIL. 181 promptu toast, but stood sneering and Sir John whirled his great shoulders grimacing amongst a circle of his cronies. twice with vicious strength, and men were “ Methinks these be all clacking women,” flung aside so that he had room to move said he to one of them. “ What is all this his sword. chatter about innocence and virgins and “ By St. Michael ! Shall I cut my way the half-mad Winston?” to him?” he shouted. “ Rossford, this night “ They say,” said the unfailing Sir Wal¬ is thy last.” ton, “ that Sir John outgeneraled Winston Rossford, no less infuriated and no less at least once, having secured his lands and willing, had drawn his sword and was push¬ manors through a shrewd trick of general¬ ing men aside, when the great blond noble¬ ship since he hied him to France.” man, to be called here the Duke of May- “ I recovered in open court for certain forth, laid a hand on his shoulder and drew moneys justly owed to me,” snarled Sir him back. Rossford turned and looked with John. eyes of deadly purpose into his friend’s face. “ And I testified,” put in Lord Rossford, “ Mayforth,” said he, “ stay me not. If “ that the papers you showed were none of that foul lie should go one night uncleansed Winston’s writing, as could be proved easily it would taint my soul forever. The Lady enough. The court awarded you the case Gertrude is my promised wife. This night ne’ertheless, and sustained your lying he or I stand at the door of death.” charges of treason and declared Winston ' “ I would not hinder thee, man,” said outlaw.” the duke, “ but it shall be done by proper “ Why went he so suddenly to France?” form and rule—for this reptile is no free asked Sir Walton. foe for a gentleman—the which, if thou “ In defence of that same innocence we dost fail to keep, Sir John, I will e’en brain heard of,” scoffed Torrey. “ The king’s in¬ thee with a stool. Pick thee a friend, if nocence, methinks it was, for Winston’s thou hast one, to make with me the rules sister, having sought in vain the high honor of the fight. Some of you, gentlemen, be of being the king’s—” good enough to clear the floor.” A pewter tankard, missing its ma:k by Sir Walton Carr and the duke drew up a little, struck him on the chest, while a the rules, which were simple enough and raging madman leaped across the room, made to cover the slenderness of equipment pushing men to right and left as he came. and the confined space. If a man slipped “Foul, filthy, recreant liar!” shouted he was to be unmolested, as also if he fell Lord Rossford, standing before him. “ I over furniture, or the person of a spectator, say thou didst try to trap an innocent maid or was disarmed, or his sword broken, or if who had rebuffed thee into more powerful he fell of wounds, whether he could or could entanglements than thine, and that then not rise. Sir John' wore a shirt of mail, thou didst shamefully rob and despoil Lord which he was required to take off, as Lord Winston. Of the king or the king’s justice Rossford wore no defensive armor. They I do say nothing, for I am his liege sub¬ stepped into the center of the room, and at ject, but of thee I say thou art dastard and once the fight began. recreant and a disgrace to true knighthood, Swordsmanship, while it had become a and this to support it.” fine art of strength, quickness and technical And he suddenly let fly with his clenched skill, had not been brought to the mar¬ fist and smashed Sir John hard across the velous perfection of fence in England that mouth, sending him reeling. Like a flame was just appearing in the French and Ital¬ of light Sir John’s sword flashed out and he ian schools of arms, but it was indeed a leaped forward, spitting blood through his most vicious and terrible exercise. cut lips. He would have run Rossford Sir John Torrey’s boast of swordsman¬ through before'the nobleman could have ship was no vain one. His short figure, drawn but that half a dozen men rushed with huge breadth of shoulders, looked less between, some seizing him and holding him athletic than the tall and well-knit form of back, all talking at once. his antagonist, but his long arms and large 182 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

shoulders argued a terrible strength, and he knight planned. He would wait until Ross¬ went to his work with the fury of a sudden ford was practically helpless from his great gale. exertions and loss of blood, and then, after The first clash of steel drove the mists of refusing to expose himself to the least mis¬ blind hatred from Rossford’s eyes. He be¬ chance by attacking, he would run his came a cool, agile fighting machine, parry¬ enemy through when Rossford was too weak ing the hurricane of blows with swift, sure to resist or be dangerous. skill, stepping easily here and there. For a “Save thyself, Godfrey!” cried May- minute it seemed as if he must be content forth. “ Make him come to thee, man.” to guard, until the fury of Sir John’s on¬ Rossford tried to smile with his White, slaught should spend itself, but in the very panting lips, but his straining eyes belied heat of it suddenly his blade shot forward it. That brave, ghostly smile told that like a serpent’s tongue in a lightning join Rossford knew that unless he got home in carte. Sir John’s parry and quick back¬ quickly, the moment Torrey came to him ward leap were a fraction of an instant late, would be his last. and a trickle of blood down the left side of With one last desperate leap he thrust his throat showed where the steel had bit. forward at Sir John’s breast, slipped, “ Winston would have killed thee then,” missed, and lurched forward with his breast said Rossford. on Sir John’s rigid point. But even as he “ To hell with Winston! ” snarled Torrey, fell forward he half recovered, and with a and feinted a slashing cut for the shoulder scrambling gesture, as the knight’s sword which he dexterously twisted sinto a thrust pressed into his breast, he thrust his own in tierce, gashing deep along the ribs under weapon deep into his adversary’s sword Rossford’s sword arm. arm and fell, lifeless, in a twisting fall, his The breath of both men was now coming . own sword still held slackly in his fingers, in panting gasps. Rossford’s doublet crim¬ Sir John’s beside him, the blood welling soned with a great, spreading stain. He slowly from the wound in his chest, and as whirled to the attack as if with double he fell, first to one knee and then over on strength and speed, driving and thrusting one side, he gasped: “ Winston will— with imperious, swift-flung blade, smashing finish—” here and there with blows that made Tor- Sir John stood with heaving chest over rey’s great wrist quiver as it parried. his fallen enemy. “ Let Winston come,” But Torrey was no novice. He knew that he sneered. this rushing storm of steel had a significance Mayforth and others of Rossford’s to his advantage. He knew he had bitten friends ran forward to the fallen man, and deep and that life-blood was flowing from hastily ascertained that, ugly as they were, Rossford’s side, and that this was the whirl¬ the wounds had penetrated no really vital wind of one who must win quickly or fail. spot. Mayforth looked up at the sneering Yet it seemed as if Rossford’s strength face. was inexhaustible. Around the room he “ We will let Winston know,” he said. drove his enemy, urgent, not to be denied. “ Do thou abide his coming. Methinks I Once he slashed his cheek. Once he bit hear his laugh already as he quenches thee into his thigh. Sir John felt his own hot with never a hard-drawn breath. Abide his blood gush, but with iron calculation re¬ coming.” fused to infringe on that sweeping attack, “ Methinks,” said' Sir Walton Carr, ex¬ watching keenly for a sign that it would amining Torrey’s wounded arm with con¬ slacken. siderable satisfaction, “ I may yet win the And slacken at last it did, at first im¬ Sword-Maker’s sword in to-morrow’s tour¬ perceptibly and only to be renewed a sec¬ ney. Be she ugly as Sir John himself, ond later, than more noticeably and for a it will scarce harm the good sjeel. You longer period. And still Sir John made no have lost your chance, Sir John.” effort to take the offensive. “Tut!” said Sir John. “There is still Now it became clear to 'all what the the maid.” SWORD AND ANVIL. 183

“ And Winston! ” put in the north coun¬ So Lord Winston rode blithely, for he try knight. “ Thou hadst better wed the felt his enemy near. It was an evening in hag and retire into purgatory.” April. The spring was in his blood. “ Cold steel,” he said cheerily, thinking of Torrey’s boasted maid, “ cold steel shall CHAPTER III. glow and still seem cold as death to thee, Swung from his brand a windy buffet out, Sir Robber and Traducer, when thou look- Once, twice, to right, to left, and stunned the est on this sword. ’Twas made, said the twain. armorer who sold it to me, by the famous —Geraint and Enid. female maker of swords, Elizabeth the LORD WINSTON, then, untricked by the Sword-Maker, who, said he, is so ugly she *“■ king’s plausible speeches and patroniz¬ frightens the spirit of the devil into the ing offers, had gone to France, and, within hot steel and thus tempers it perfectly for two months, he learned that Sir John Tor- riving men’s sohIs from their bodies; rey had brought into a corrupt court though, said the antic fellow, he had never slanderous charges against him, producing seen her, and would not accuse of en¬ forged documents to prove debts of huge chantment one who was called by crafts¬ sums of money, and the court, though, as a men the supreme artist of them all.” peer of the realm, it had no jurisdiction Laughing, he whipped the sword from over him, after giving him three days in scabbard and twirled it with incredible cun¬ which to appear to defend himself, declared ning and speed this way and that around him outlawed and fugitive and his estates his head and by his sides, behind him and confiscated to his debtor, Sir John Torrey, in swishing cuts, until he seemed to be sur¬ in payment of his just debt. rounded by a series of continued arcs of On this matter—and indeed it troubled lightning in the fast failing light. And as Winston not at all—there was no appeal to he twirled the blade, he sang in a timeful the Brotherhood of Swords, for he had left barytone voice, a song called “ The Song England voluntarily for the service of of the Sword.” France, and had not appeared in the court “ These three are one. The hand that to defend himself, but he was still the wrought, leader of the Brotherhood, which had The hand that wields the lambent death, spread, through other exiles, to France, and, And the sweet sword that, swift as thought, Makes vagrant air of living breath, as such, his life could not lightly be taken. These three—are one.” For a time he was kept busy by affairs in France. A year had passed. And then Down the road behind him came a clat¬ Lord Rossford, scarce recovered from his tering of horses and the silhouettes of four wounds, had gone to France and told him horsemen could be seen for a moment at of Torrey’s vile slander against his aster, the top of the hill, melting into a moving and then Lord Winston rode in quest of blur on the road as they descended. Win¬ Sir John Torrey. In Devonshire, and Kent, ston took off his velvet cap and replaced and Surrey he rode, but the knight eluded it with a light steel headpiece that pro¬ him, and he must needs return to France tected head and ears and negk. Such a after killing two men who waylaid him and change, on falling ihto company at night, wounding a third. was a customary enough precaution. Win- A year later he rode once more upon the ton made it almost without thinking, con¬ quest, but this time he had tidings of the tinuing his song the while. knight in the West Riding of Yorkshire, “ These three are one, the quenching blade, where he had bought him a house, and Unsullied honor bravely borne, where, it was said, the knight had boasted And answering eyes of gentle maid, was a woundrous maiden, so beautiful, that Now—or at resurrection morn, These three—are one.” cold steel glowed to heat in her presence. More than this he would not say, though Queen was mincing along at a dainty it was said the king himself was curious. gait, with sidling prancings to the road- 184 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

side as the other horsemen approached. For “Tut, fellow!” said he. “Ride on. I she was a horse of great wisdom and knew quarrel not with every passing plowman.” without touch of knee or rein that at night At which the fellow’s three companions, men coming from behind should be ob¬ who had been supporting him but doubt¬ served, unless her master wished, indeed, fully, laughed in one great guffaw. to keep ahead of them, a feat equally “ An we keep not tryst, we are like to simple. have our heads disturbed,” said one, “ which So she pranced and sidled and half would trouble me more than the disturbing turned, tossing her head the while as if the of my thoughts, so let’s on our way, Joe April air tingled her blood, too, to hope of Steeples. The knight hath answered thee adventure—as there could be no doubt it fairly.” did, but then she was like her master; and “ First tell me, good fellow,” said Win¬ the air of every other month in the calendar ston, addressing the last speaker, “ how far had a precisely similar effect. lies the house of Sir John Torrey?” Winston, in the mean time, e’en let her “ A good twelve mile, sir, an it please prance to please herself while he finished you. The road lies to the left past the his song, greatly to his own pleasure and little church a mile down. There is a good admiration, repeating, with rounded flour¬ tavern at the comer, the Green Dragon.” ishes and gay bravado, the last two lines “ You are free in guiding nameless night as the men caught up with him. prowlers to Sir John’s house, Tom Bed¬ ford,” said the same discourteous Steeples. “ Now—or at resurrection morn, With startling speed and suddenness, and These three—are one.” as if of her own will, Queen executed a The four were evidently retainers or demi-volte, which brought her flank to men-at-arms of some knight or petty baron. flank with the surly Steeples’s horse, be¬ They wore steel morions on their heads and side which she now paced queenly, waiting swords by their sides and were mounted for what should come, alert for lightest on shaggy, ill-conditioned, and ill-trained touch or lightest word and largely confident animals that seemed more used to the plow in the beloved being who bestrode her. or the wain than to the saddle. “ Sirrah!” said Winston, speaking softly, One of the men wore, in addition, a single “ an thou dost speak again I will e’en piece of body armor over his leather jerkin, write my name upon that iron pot of thine.” which evidently gave him a greater sense of He laid not hand to sword, nor seemed privilege, for he slackened gait as he ap¬ in any way concerned about the further proached and stared disapprovingly at the conduct of the man-at-arms or his com¬ lightly singing nobleman, who seemed un¬ panions. Tom Bedford had ridden a little conscious of any audience, though he had forward, as if unwilling to take part in any missed no detail of the party. Ordinarily, quarrel, but the other two, who, truth to a man-at-arms would have passed a person tell, were not averse to the rich plunder of quality without speaking, unless ad¬ suggested by Winston’s horse and accouter¬ dressed, but the song and the night and the ments, pressed about threateningly. deserted road gave license. Queen, casting one eye upon her left “ You sing loudly of resurrection morn flank, needed no bidding to tell her that her upon the king’s highway, friend,” growled lord must not be crowded when his voice the fellow. “ ’Tis a dull subject to be gay spake thus. She heaved a mighty shoulder upon.” into the ribs of the animal on the other side “ The road is narrow, but ’tis long,” from Steeples and sent it whirling sidewise. laughed Winston. “ An you like not the The unfortunate Steeples thought Winston song, ride to the end of the road.” was trying to withdraw, and finding him¬ “ We are enough to ride in what part of self with more room, swung his sword forth, the road likes us best, and to keep it free shouting: of song-birds that disturb our thoughts.” “ Good loot, my masters! At him!” At this Winston chuckled more deeply. Then did Queen, answering the cunning SWORD AND ANVIL. 185

hand and knee, become a black thunder¬ “ Which,” muttered Tom Bedford, as bolt of speed and intelligence. She gave Winston thanked him and rode on, “ which; one little bound ahead, spun suddenly if I remember right, was this day week. I around in her own length, and hurled her¬ love not Sir John, who is but a thieving self irresistibly forward. knight at best, but I would e’en collect my Winston’s sword was still in sheath, but pay for this business ’fore that same joyous in his hand, snatched from his saddle bow, fighter laugh his knightship’s brains out. was a small but heavy battle-ax, and as Then may he meet him where he will and Queen hurled forward, too close upon the may I see the meeting, for if he be not unmanageable plow-horse of Steeples for Winston’s self, I am then a fool.” him to have room for his long sword, the So Lord Winston rode to the house of ax came down upon the morion and clove Sir John Torrey, only to be told by the it, but so well guided that it but creased lodge keeper that Sir John had fared forth, the scalp—for Winston killed not churls whither, the old man knew not, but that he for sport, and this was scarce serious com¬ would some time next day be in the village bat—and as his arm descended his name of Hulcaster, he knew, for one of the old came laughing from his lips: “"A Win¬ fellow’s sons was to meet him there, and ston ! ” would the worshipful knight lodge with him And then, with bound and curvet, like the night, or rest himself and horse an a trained dancer Queen stepped here and hour or twain? The worshipful knight there, and with each swift change Winston’s would not, but thanked him with soft cour¬ arm flew lightly out, smiting with the flat tesy and went to a near-by inn. And the side of his weapon: “ A Winston! A Win¬ next morning he rode toward Hulcaster ston!” laughed, he, and with each flashing singing: move a man fell senseless from his.saddle. Tom Bedford had turned his horse at “ And when I lay my lance in rest, And when my sword with victory gleams, the clatter and surveyed the scene. Unseen, thy favor gilds my crest, “ If you have slain them, I must e’en Oh, wondrous lady of my dreams.” attempt you, Sir Knight,” said he, “ even if you be Winston’s self.” “ ’Sdeath! Thou’rt a man of metal, CHAPTER IV. Tom Bedford,” said Winston. “ They are A maid of such rare chemistry, she seems not dead, unless they died of surprise, Now most to please the eye, now most the though I spared not to bleed that loud¬ mind. mouthed churl thou callest Steeples. Let The richest broidure of a good man’s dreams, He, in the genius of her soul shall find. his sore pate teach him manners.” —The Maid of Maids. “ Are you then in truth, Lord Winston? Or some knight of his?” A BSALOM WHITE, the smith of Hul- “ A knight of his, I am, good Tom.” caster, was a famous worker with “ Then may the saints pray for his metal and forge, but he had a daughter enemies when Lord Winston fights if you of two and twenty summers whose touch be but knight of his. They say he is a upon the white-hot steel was the caress of joyous fighter. For my own part I never inspiration, welding the soul and fiber of saw a fighter more joyous than your knight- her genius into the glowing metal until it ship’s self.” lived, subtle and supple and slender, and “Whom ride you behind, Tom Bed¬ pure as the clean-blown fire. She was a ford?” maker of swords. Her name was Elizabeth. “ Behind Sir John Torrey.” Their forge was not under a spreading “ I am on my way to his house. Shall I chestnut-tree. It was in a secluded part of find him there?” a stout building, for there were secrets: “ Likelier there than anywhere, I should secret tools, secret methods; but the hidden say. He was e’en on his way there last time genius of Elizabeth the Sword-Maker none I saw him. could copy, not even her father. 186 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

She had studied the lore of steel. The choice,” she laughed. “ Know you what I master craftsmen of Europe and Asia Minor shall do, now, father?” had wittingly and unwittingly given her “ I never know what thou wilt do, lass. priceless secrets, for she had secrets to give Except,” he went on, with smiling pride, in exchange, but the secret of that creating “ that it will be nothing thy mother would touch none of them could master. She was not love to see. What wilt do, Bessie?” / an artist. With her, anvil, and hammer, “ Nothing! For three long, lazy months and bench, and tools were implements of I will e’en do not a thing but breathe air, creation. eat food, drink beverage, sleep sleep, dream There was an inner forge and an'outer dreams, and be called by thee and Mistress forge, with a dim storeroom between. In Turner the laziest maid in Yorkshire.” the outer forge Absalom, not being an “ Tut, Bessie! Thou’lt grow fat. Thou artist, picked tip sundry pence by such hum¬ dost incline thee somewhat to plumpness.” ble branches of his trade as the mending of “ Oh, I shall walk, and run, and swim, carts and the shoeing of horses. Elizabeth and ride.” shod no horses, nor mended carts. “ ’Tis but what thou dost always do after She came, one day, from her own work¬ thy labors, to keep brain and body sound. room, and stood for a moment in the door¬ I thought thou wouldst surprise me.” way of the shop, dressed in her working “ Therein I surprised thee.” clothes, which made her look very little like “ And now will I surprise thee. What a young lady artist and very much like a wouldst think of a journey to Milan?” young apprentice. She was happy with the “ Oh! Above all things, my father. The happiness of relaxed nerves, for she had gild of armorers did somewhat overreach just finished and fitted the blade of blades, me in the matter of the suit of armor when the like of which was not in Europe. last we—” She breathed great drafts of the sweet “ Regret it not,” laughed her father. April air, pulling off the leather gloves with “ Did they not wish thee a great lord to which she protected her hands, and spread¬ wear it for thee?” ing her strong but pretty fingers for the cool “A prince, methinks!” she admitted, wind to blow through them. laughing also, “ but ’twas a priceless secret “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she said. “ ’Tis good I bought it withal, and I doubt if the prince to be alive, with work accomplished, and I shall not get, and the armor I did get, the spring whispering its benison. Is it not, glorious though it be, can weigh the value father?” of it.” “ ’Tis ever good to be alive,” answered Thou’rt true woman; ever regretting her wise and practical father. “ Sometimes thy bargain. They undertook but to wish ’tis bitter seeming, but did we not sustain thee a prince, minx, not to give thee one. our bitterness and press on we should ne’er Who rides here? Huh! Sir John Torrey.” reach the times when life seems good. ’Tis “ The prince of evil,” avouched Bessie. all a journey, and the end crowns all.” “ That is no prince to my liking.” “ And what is the end, my father?” “ Get thee out of sight. I’d as soon the . “ Nay, child, I know not. But ’tis in the foul fiend gormandized thy beauty.” wisdom that gives us courage for the Bessie, being of like mind, if not so for¬ journey.” cible of expression, had vanished, ere the “ Methinks the end also, if there is an knight, unaccompanied, rode to the smithy end, must be glorified by the journey, door. The knight was a newcomer of little father, as the finished blade is made perfect over a year to the neighborhood. He was blow by blow and by each cunning heating accounted a man of great wealth, though and cooling, and not by the last blow only.” parsimonious, and, such was the impression • “ Thou are. a wise maid. The saints send he made upon the countryside, he was re¬ thee a wise husband, for a dullard will break puted variously to be a bandit, a retired thy heart.” sea-pirate, and the devil, the only unanimity “ I shall e’en help the saints in the being that he was probably all three. SWORD AND ANVIL. 187

He wore a shirt of light chain mail, “ And who the devil art thou with thy greaves, and a steel cap. He rode half into warnings, fair or foul? I am an honest the smithy, without dismounting. Englishman and can protect my daughter “ Where is thy daughter, smith?” he from all the ugly scum of court or kennel. asked in an ugly growl. Wouldst come forcing an honest maid into “ The minx hath e’en betaken herself to a foul marriage, which belike would be no Wakefield, Sir John,” answered Absalom. marriage at best? By St. George! An the “ She hath gone to buy frippery, for ’tis in king’s justice grant me not quittance of her mind to journey to Milan.” thee I will e’en show thee what a free-born “ Alone?” Englishman can do with his two hands, “ Nay! I shall e’en go with her, and her knight or no knight.” purse affordeth two stout yeomen.” Sir John whipped sword from scabbard. “ When will she be back?” “ Ety crisscross, I am a mind to make crow- “ From Milan? I—” bait of thee now, thou fool! ” he roared. “ From Wakefield?” What might have happened then it is “ Nay, I cannot tell. She may return to¬ hard to say had not a diversion been created morrow before compline, or she may remain by Rufus Tyler, Absalom’s stout helper, a week. She is a maid of humors, and who chose that moment to drag a white-hot hath an aunt in Bishopgate who doth humor iron from the fire and plunge it into a her to the top of her bent.” trough of water into which Torrey’s horse “ I will e’en tame her humors.” was trying to nose. Thereafter for a minute “ Thou?” the knight had his hands full trying to keep “Aye! Hark thee, good Absalom. I his outraged animal from bolting. would save the maid much trouble.” “ Listen,” he said, when he had subdued “ Then e’en keep from her path with your the restive beast to something like quiet. tamings, Sir John. She pleaseth me well “ 1 am for Wakefield. And when next thou untamed.” seest thy daughter thou shalt wish she were “ There are those would do her injury. indeed Lady Torrey. And this for thy Let her come into my service and she shall comfort: every road and port shall be be safe.” watched. There is more powerful force than “ Thy service? An you want anything mine in wait for her, and I have shown thee of her art she shall e’en perform it here, an the one way from the net.” you can pay the price, and the task pleaseth He put spurs to his horse and galloped her. At present she will undertake no off. commission for three months.” “ Then will we e’en abide at home, and “ I want not her art, man, though it see who’ll rive her from us,” said the smith, pleaseth me that she hath it. I want the for he had an Englishman’s touching and maid herself.” sometimes misplaced faith in that place of “ She is not for you, Sir John.” sanctuary. “ Get thee to Wakefield and “ I seek her honorably—in marriage.” search Bishopgate, and Westgate, and Kirk- “ Seek elsewhere. She is not for you. gate. I will e’en consult with my neighbors.” Your seeking improves too suddenly.” He turned to his daughter, who had come “ There is evil intent toward her, man. forth at the departure of the knight. Only by marrying me can she escape it.” “ Bessie, bide thee close about the place. “ She would escape it hardly, whatever Rufus, get thee to thy nooning, but first go it may be. She is not a maid to be injured bid Anthony Bridgman and Simeon Tucker lightly; nor I the man to abide it.” come see me betimes at the Two Swans. “ I have given thee fair warning.” Methinks there is law and good English yeo¬ Up to this point Absalom had managed men to back it, that a man’s house shall to maintain an air of decent civility and be as safe as a knight’s castle. Meanwhile, quiet, but now the red blood rushed to his let Sir John ride to Wakefield.” He doffed forehead, and his great arms knotted, and his leather apron and strode off to the Two his eyes blazed. Swans. 188 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

But Sir John rode not to Wakefield. He Come back, young scampling. There is but had come from there and knew that the one hoof to be shod.” maid had not ridden that. way. Sir John The speaker crossed the smithy and store¬ would lie in wait, and as for the sanctuary room and lifted the latch of the farther of home, Sir John had a weapon more ter¬ door, but the door was fast barred. He rible than any the smith dreamed of, foully shouted, but gained no answer. come by, ’tis true, but based on the abysmal “ Thou’rt a lazy ne’er-do-well, and I ignorance of the times which made it all would I had the flogging of thee,” said he, but invincible. still laughing good-humoredly, “ but as He despaired not of getting the maid thou wilt not work for thy master I will without showing his own complicity in this e’en work for my mare, for we are in some —even as her protector from it—and so he haste.” waited. But if aught should force his hand With which he unbuckled his sword-belt he would use the weapon as his own. He and laid the weapon on a bench with his rode to the back door of the Two Swans. riding-cloak and hat, covered his slashed Inside were half a dozen or more of his men. doublet with the smith’s leather apron, seized a bar of iron and thrust it into the slumbering fire, which he puffed into a CHAPTER V. white glow with the big bellows. Then he These three are one: the hand that wrought, seized the mare’s off hind foot and pulled The hand that wields the lambent death, it between his knees. And the swift sword that, swift as thought, “ Between a lazy knave and a lazy lord,” Makes vagrant air of living breath. said he, “ the knave is the better laggard. These three are one. Maybe the gentleman is the better black¬ Soul of the Sword. smith, Queen. The knave looked over¬ ELIZABETH, thinking not of danger, slight. I’ll cuff him for slighting thee later, L~‘ Sir John being gone, and the idea of sweetheart.” danger being anyhow but a vague blur in Soon the fofge rang to the music of the her free life, was standing in the smithy beating hammer. The worker became so doorway. Around a bend in the road came interested in his task that he forgot .every¬ a man mounted on a big black mare, riding thing else. easily. Strangers were uncommon in Hul- “ You make very free with other people’s caster, for it lies to one side of the main property, sir,” said a sharp voice behind highway. him. “ If the horse is no honester come by Suddenly conscious of her boy’s clothes, than the shoe you should e’en keep your which she wore unconcernedly enough be¬ sword about your waist.” fore her neighbors, the maid stepped within The stranger finished driving the last the shop and wished her father would come, nail into the hoof. Then he dropped the for her ear had caught the clatter of a loose foot and stared thoughtfully at the dainty shoe, and she knew the horseman would vision in pink and white that had addressed stop. him, for Elizabeth, newly and hastily The shod foot left the flinty road and scrubbed, losing nothing of piquancy for her were muffled by the softer ground in front of haste in dressing, was indeed a vision. the smithy. There was a creaking of leather She was of medium height and beautifully and a rattle of spurs. The man was dis¬ modeled; not slender, but not too full for mounting. grace" Her face had the assured lines of Elizabeth made a belated dash across the one who has accomplished through deliber¬ forge and storeroom for her own workshop, ate effort and knows as the result of search, which she had not reached when a chuckling yet the tilt of the chin was altogether voice, rich with deep amusement, caught her feminine and alluring, in spite of those keen and increased her haste. and questing eyes from which genius flashed “ Now by my faith,” it said, “ never saw forth its oriflamme of the singular and I such a speedy flight from so light a task. unusual. SWORD AND ANVIL. 189

“ By my faith,” said the stranger solemn¬ “ Your pardon, blacksmith maiden,” said ly, “ methinks I would steal a shoe or a he. “ I had almost forgotten that gold is not horse or an earldom, an I could dream of polished upon an anvil”. Some day I will such beauty for every theft.” teach you the delicate art of knowing when “ You are as free with your tongue, sir, reproof should become insult, and how.” as with your hands,” and, she added, “ with The red in the girl’s cheeks turned to your eyes. Is it not still the custom for a white under the stab of his gentle scorn and gentleman to bow himself into a maid’s her own rage. Here was a mode of fence all acquaintance?” new to her, and she was helpless before the The stranger bowed low instantly, but subtle play of it. It told her in three swift¬ now the little imp of mischief’had sprung piercing sentences that all the airs and again to the corners of his eyes and mouth. graces she had picked up in her travels and “ Troth!” said he. “ ’Tis so sudden a her associations and flashed upon him as leap from blacksmith’s boy to beautiful the haughty breeding of a lady were but damosel that my manners scarce survived thin and false gilt that melted under the the shock. Is there witchcraft in this searing combat she had invited, in which place?” perfect courtesy sheared her rough blud¬ Elizabeth’s eyes faltered an instant, and geon. Steel she might be, but not gold! she flushed. A blacksmith maiden, but not a lady! “ I asked,” she said, “ by what right you It told her in one perfect sentence that make yourself so free of another man’s gear by her play upon his astonishment and her and goods? ’Twould be fair courtesy to quip about the whipping she had challenged wait for their proper owner.” all that his eyes and voice had ventured, and “ You waited, fair mistress, neither to that her reproof should have been spirited, shoe my horse nor to say me nay, and being perhaps, but not angry and insulting; that somewhat forthright of temper, and given anger and insult there showed the black¬ to helping myself when there appears none smith maid and not the lady; the steel, tem¬ to help me—” pered and shaped upon the anvil, not the “ So I observe. What mean you by my gold, polished with soft care and cunning. waiting not? I am no shoer of horses.” And then the biting stroke of confident “ Then, by my credit, you should e’en authority, patronizing, perfect in politeness leave-off the feathers, an you would not be yet intolerably presumptuous. “ Some day taken for the bird. I have a wondrous gift I will teach you—” And some prescience in for eyes, and though I saw them but an her woman’s heart resented it ragingly while instant under the smith’s cap I avouch there feeling it to be the voice of Fate. It turned are no eyes in'Christendom to match the her to cold wrath. This time the steel rang two I now scarce endure.” true and left no need for gold. “I trow ’twould take a basilisk to down- “ My father will be here anon,” she said, gaze you, sir. Methinks, too, I heard you “ but you need not wait. I give you the bit promise me a whipping.” of iron and the coal in payment for your “ Nay, I but hoped for the pleasure. instructions. Methinks I have learned all By’r Lady, the whipping should be light.” you can teach, and being well paid I pray Something in the musing tone and stare you go.” brought the blood in a crimson mantle to “Now by the rood,” laughed the stranger, the girl’s cheeks. Her eyes flashed like “ the instruction hath profited so much I the cold flame of one of her own swords. am in mind to claim a kiss as added pay¬ “ Your speech, also, is overlight, sir,” she ment, but I will e’en leave it invested, and snapped angrily. when I come again I’ll take the payment For an instant the stranger’s eyes flashed with interest.” fire, but were on the same instant subdued, “Oh! I would my father were—” and only two white spots in the deep-brown A shadow blurred die sunlight. A sneer¬ of his cheek-bones and the ironical twist in ing laugh interrupted. his smile showed that he had been hit. “ Lord Winston! La! ’Tis a romantic 190 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

interlude in a bloody life, by crisscross!’* past, and ye have but ‘ deviled ’ and ‘ rep- came a growling voice from the doorway. tiled ’ me for my honest pains. Now have “ The best swordsman in Europe and the I given him his quittance, which I did in greatest sword-maker. Last time I heard defending my life, and do thou—” of you you had rougher play, my lord. You “ You—have killed him? You have mur¬ have no use for a sword in this game, at dered my father? Tell me I hear not in any rate, so I will e’en hold it myself. You good sense. You have not slain him?” are a thought too eager with it. I have “ In fair defense ’gainst his most ruffian come for the maiden, too, so I fear the rest attack.” of your love-play will be brief. I have Into the heart of Winston there surged a great need of a swordsmith. Mistress, I pity greater even than his ancient hatred have just contracted with thy father for of the man before him as he saw the stone¬ thy services for one year. Gather thy gear like pallor of the girl and heard the crushed together and show my men what tools of and despairing voice. thine thou need’st. I am in haste. Get “ Suffer me a moment,” she said. “ When them, varlets.” I come back I will be ready for your will.” It was Sir John Torrey. As he spoke he “ Five men watch the windows and the had stepped with swift agility and gained other door,” Torrey warned her. possession of the first visitor’s sword. Now “ On p*^word, I will come back this he motioned to two men who had been way,” she said. “ Sir,” she begged of Win¬ standing just behind him, and they lurched ston, “ do you guard my door whilst! say forward, but stopped awkwardly when Lord one little prayer for my poor father’s soul.” Winston, still covered by the leather apron “ Every man shall await your behest, and smith’s cap, debonair and self-possessed lady. Had I but two good friends you and confident as if clad cap-a-pie in steel should e’en supervise the hanging of these and armed with that too eager sword, stood curs ere you went to your< most piteous in the way between them and the girl, the prayers. As ’tis, my life is at your word laugh of irresistible amusement bubbling in to hold your will or your revenge ’gainst his voice, contemptuous, easily superior. them whene’er you list.” “ By my faith, Sir Bandit,” said he, “ you “ Speak them softly, I pray you, sir. You hurry me too much. \My love-play, as you are but one and defenseless, and my only call it, isjDut just begun. Consult the broad friend. I pray you taunt them not into highway and find you another swordsmith. o’ercoming their fear of you.” The maid seems ill-pleased with her father’s “ I will e’en abide them silently and they bargaining, and is, methinks, old enough to intrude not upon you.” do her own. If not, Winston will bargain She was gone. At the door upon which for her.” Lord Winston had so short a time before “ Your bargaining power, my lord, lies thumped good-humored threats against her, in my hand. The bar of iron you toy with he now, unarmed, stood guard o’er her is no tool for an artist. Stand aside, or my heart-broken prayers, pledging his life that men shall quench you quick.” they should be kept inviolate. “ Thy men, gargoyle!” sneered Winston, “ The maid’s devotions,” sneered Torrey, with unutterable contempt. “ I will hear “ protects you for the nonce. When she what the maid saith. I knew not she was returns you shall not crow so loud, or I the Sword-Maker. Methinks so great a lady will quench you with your owr sword.” should devise her own comings and goings.” The mocking smile once more curved “ ’Tis a foul lie about my father,” Lord Winston’s lips. He stood at the snapped the girl. “ What guerdon would he beamed entrance to the storeroom. His take to sell his daughter to such a reptile, horse had sidled up to him there and stood even had he the right?” nuzzling his shoulder inquiringly. She was “ Even the guerdon of heaven, minx,” a horse of many battles and scented trouble growled Torrey. “ I have made honorable at the first breath. At Torrey’s threat Win¬ pffers for thy services this twelvemonth ston chuckled confidentially to the mare. SWORD AND ANVIL. 191

“ There speaks a warrior, Queen,” said The smile died from the eyes of Lord he. “ With mine own sword will he quench Winston. Wonder, horror and black rage me. And we await his quenching, sweet¬ flushed and paled his face. heart; it must e’en be with our own sword. “ By our Savior,” he groaned out, “ never Hush thee, my beautiful, for we are under, was so foul a soul as thine since Satan en¬ command to taunt him not.” tered into Judas, nor so foul a crime ’gainst “ I shall be astride that black beast within maidenhood. Now do I swear—” the hour,” growled Torrey. “ Listen to me, Lord Winston, ere your “ Then will there be more brains under lordship swear away your life. Have her I thy nose than above it,” retorted the obedi¬ will. An I must lull you, kill you I will; ent abider in silence. “As for my sword, but to kill you is a task not to be challenged fellow, when I come to take it do thou move blithely, and I would avoid the trouble of with speed, for men die twixt two eye- it and wipe out the quarrel that stands winkings when Winston strikes.” between us. This tribute, then, will I pay “ Zounds! No mortal man can move to your great prowess, though armed you with speed enough to keep pace with Win¬ are with but an iron bar and must surely ston’s boastings,” answered Torrey, not in¬ fall. Yet to avoid the trouble, and because aptly; at which Winston laughed, for his of my admiration of so great a fighter, this boasting was as frank as his sword-play will I do: swift, and for both he loved to meet a keen “ I will, before the king’s justices, avouch defense. myself mistaken about the crimes charged “ What trick of law hast worked to make against you, and I will return all your this most foul seizure, for well I know thy lands, fiefs, manors, and holdings vested in tricks of brigandage within the law, and me by the courts as your creditor and heir, well I know the law of this groaning land, if you will quietly leave this place and offer juggled by a lecherous king for his lecherous no succor, now or at any other time, direct favorites.” or indirect, of the person given up to me; “ ’Tis all lawful, and so writ—fear not for nor spread rumors nor agitations about her that.” other than she was in truth guilty of al¬ “ Man, dost know thy juggling will bring chemy and necromancy, and that to your thee to the gallows, an thou escape my certain knowledge she practised such arts, searching sword? ’Tis a thing of folly to and that she was probably carried off by the perjure a nobleman’s good name away and devil, or died the death the law and the gain his estates by forgery and lies, but ’tis king’s justice provides.” a thing of madness to lay hands upon a Had Winston then had sword in hand woman known to all good swordsmen. The instead of the rude and clumsy weapon he king’s justice will find thee out, for the possessed, he had made such play within king’s favor is a sudden shifting weight and that smithy as would have made the odds that makes the king’s justice sometimes seem light. But the picture of the maid’s just.” sore need, surrounded as she was, and all “ The king’s justice, fool of an outlawed defenseless, by such a diabolical snare, made lord! ’Tis the king’s justice that attaints him cautious. He even halted the contemp¬ her. How could young and mortal maiden tuous retort that was on his lips from the work the miracles with steel this maiden moment the drift of Torrey’s proposal be¬ works were she not leagued by black magic came clear, for he knew that the moment with the foul fiend? She hath been tried he should definitely refuse the proposal, that by learned men and condemned, and I am moment Torrey would undertake the task appointed her executioner in the king’s of killing him, and he had it in mind to name, but I am first empowered to deal recover his sword ere he forced the issue. with her in such way as I may devise to He had made no answer when the bolt bring her to repentance and to save her of the door behind him moved. The girl soul from hell. Methinks I shall have long stepped swiftly from its light into the dim¬ patience.” ness of the storeroom. 192 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

In her hands were some things that could own, but apparently felt the need of several not be detected by those in the lighter more, for as the first of his men fell he smithy: Winston, in the equal light at the turned and ran outside, shouting: entrance to the storeroom could half dis¬ “Swords! Swords! Kill me this Winston.” cern. He stepped toward her. She stood Three men were rushing up at the first in front of him and looked up into his face shout, but at the name Winston they lagged, with great, glowing, unsubdued eyes. knowing that one at least of them must “ Lord Winston,” she said, “ an you be die before they could kjll the g :at swords¬ true and leal gentleman and gentle knight man, and each was unwilling to be the I give unto you this precious sword of sacrifice. swords with which to protect a clean maid Torrey drew a pistol; a weapon at that from foul shame, and place upon your head time rarely used and little trusted. True this cap of flinted Milan steel. But if you to repute, it failed to explodte. Sir John irk at the emprise give them back to me, now found himself encumbered, a useless and I will e’en hazard m^ way through pistol in one hand and a sheathed sword in myself, and may the Holy Virgin grant my the other, with Winston’s searching blade body the pure mercy of clean steel, and impending, and Sir John promptly saved his Christ receive my soul.” own life by the most natural of all methods Torrey and his minions waited, for they —instant precipitate flight. He dropped had not yet received Lord Winston’s answer, the pistol and Winston’s sword, turned, and Torrey, judging men by his own aims, and ran, fumbling for his own sword-hilt. felt that his offer was of such tune to Win¬ To do him justice, the knight intended ston’s desires that it was impossible he his maneuver for retreat only. He intended would refuse it. to fall back behind his men until he could Lord Winston bent over the girl’s hand, reduce his excessive armament to a more to excuse himself from the enterprise, practical basis, but seeing their master in thought Torrey, smiling. Lord Winston’s full flight, with the redoubtable Lord Win¬ hands grasped the hand that held the sword ston upon them, followed by a huge, black and pressed it swiftly to his lips as he took charger, upon which was mounted a figure the glorious weapon. The balance and metal in shimmering steel, for so her dress seemed of it found swift affinity in his blood and to them, the men turned tail and fled. Sir tingled him with exhilaration. He swung John was behind his men, certainly, and the girl into his horse’s saddle. they were keeping him behind in good “ Now, by God’s light,” said he, “ never earnest, his shouts of rage only increasing had I blade in hand until now. Ho, Queen! their speed, the laughter of Winston follow¬ A queen shall ride thee, sweetheart. Now, ing them like a lash. follow me, the whiles I light her path with Winston followed for only a few yards. sword-flame. ’Sdeath, fool! Dost stand He picked up the abandoned sword, tossed ’fore Winston? Crisscross! How sweet a it to the girl, and then darted to one side to blade!” where Sir John had left his horse. He parried high and drew the blade in Torrey discovered the maneuver tdo late. seeming gentle gesture across the eyes and His own sword was out by this time, and nose of one of Torrey’s ruffians. But that he turned and made a dash just as Winston steel wrist, seeming effortless, had borne was in the act of mounting, whereupon Win¬ the blade home, cleaving the wretch through ston, who could easily have been mounted face almost to the skull. Without interrup¬ and away, promptly slipped from the horse tion it circled upward and swept down, and met him steel to steel. singing of death, while Winston negligently, There were three swift flashes of light as almost indifferently, turned his body to the two blades met, locked, and quivered avoid the other varlet’s awkward thrust, and together in the sunlight, then Torrey’s hewed him through neck to breast-bone, a blade, trying to disengage, spin from his corpse ere he began to fall. hand. Winston could have killed him then, Torrey had Winston’s sword, besides his but he had other plans. SWORD AND ANVIL. 193

“ My mark,” said he, and with incredi¬ “ Whither, lady?” asked Winston again, ble swiftness yet delicate skill he drew the very gently. point of his sword across Toney’s forehead, The maiden looked into his eyes, and her . from temple to temple, and as the blood own eyes fell. She reached out her hand leaped out blindingly, Torrey, half believing and touched for an instant the hilt of the himself killed, put his hands to his face and sword she had given him. gave a moaning gasp. “ I have no protection but this, my lord, Lord Winston laughed; that terrible and which my maiden hands wrought,” she said, deadly little laugh so full of deep contempt “ and this I gave to you as my—as a true and large mastery. knight. I am but an outlawed maiden, in¬ “ My mark,” said he again. “ I spare thy nocent and hunted, and the sword and foul life to make thee undo thy foul wrongs. honor of Lord Winston are my only refuge.” No greasy king in Christendom shall keep Her words were faltering, as if her maiden thee safe when Winston comes for thee mind were all confused and uncertain, and again.” -her brave heart holding courage whilst it When he realized that he was not killed, trembled with unshapeable fears. Torrey took his hands from his face, Winston, ever ready of speech or with stopped moaning, began to curse, and tried sword, looked at her and found no words, to look about with blood-filled eyes for his so chaste and pitiful yet brave she seemed, sword. Winston put his foot on it, seized v trying to tell him that she doubted not his the hilt, and, with a quick wrench, broke honor, yet prayed his honor to endure the it in two. trust, her manifest weakness being her only Torrey’s men, who had evidently left stay. their horses at the inn, now came into view, Then was Winston purged as with fire, mounted, but by no means showing the^ and in his heart was worship, and some¬ haste they had made in departure. Their thing new and wonderful. He took the studied nonchalance was apparent. small, strong hand and carried it to his lips. “ Walk fast and thou wilt catch us, Sir “ Not ‘ a ’ true knight,” he said, “ but Thief,” said Winston, and he turned and thy true knight, and this will I sustain with mounted Torreyls horse. this, thy sword of swords, ’gainst all the Urged to greatenepeed by Torrey’s yells, world, so help me the dear Virgin Mother the men were coming on. of our Lord.” “ Whither, lady?” asked Winston, as he After them now pounded Torrey’s men, set the horses to an easy canter. now four in number, spurred to courage by She made no answer, but looked at him the offer of a great reward. Lord Winston a moment with brimming eyes, as one deso¬ turned in his saddle. One man rode harder late. They rode on, and after a space: than the rest. Lord Winston laughed. (To be continued NEXT WEEK.)

THE LAST PORTAGE

Vf/HEN I drift out on the Silver Sea, Oh, may it be A blue night With a white moon And a sprinkling of stars o’er the cedar tree; And the silence of God, And the low call Of a lone bird— When I drift out on the Silver Sea. Lew R. Sarett, 2 Argosy JAPANESE police official and American case of Japan, we have a feeling that we newspaperman looked at one another want to see you Japanese folks grow up across the low-topped lacquered table. right—and there’s been things take place On the Yankee’s features was a smile of in the immediate past that sort of worries tolerant amusement. us that you, as a nation, aren’t growing up “ Satsey,” said he, “ if I didn’t love you right.” because you were so gol-dumed human, I’d “ I don’t understand, Marlin San. Just take your old argument by the tail and tie what do you mean — this ‘ growing up knots in it.” right ’?” “ But, Marlin San,” protested the Japa¬ “ Well, for instance: Half a dozen times nese in his very precise Harvard English, since you and I and Scottie have been talk¬ “ wherein am I wrong? If it isn’t jealousy ing to-night, you’ve made reference to that you and your people feel for us Japa- Japan’s marvelous ‘ growth ’ within the last nese because of our great progress in the sixty years. You admitted that up to the past sixty years, then tell me what it is that time Perry opened your country to the makes you watch us with such apparent world that you were an empire in darkest suspicion.” autocracy and feudalism. But you have “ In the first place,” laughed the big claimed that, with the adoption of a new Yankee, “ we don’t regard you Japanese international policy of searching the world folks with suspicion. Get that idea out of for the best the world could give you in your American-educated noddle and get an the arts, sciences, politics, and educational entirely different idea in. Maybe a lot of systems, you have turned about and in that Germans would have liked to see us regard commendably short time accomplished as you with suspicion a few years back, so as much in the way of progress as we white to divert America’s attention to the Far folks have in the past twenty centuries. East while the Potsdam gang raised hob in And you’ve particularly riled me by em- the middle of Europe. But the thing didn’t phasizing that we don’t like you because work, because it failed to take racial psy- you are smart, because you are beating us chology into account. If there’s any such Yankees at our own game. Fie, fie, Satsey! antagonism between your people and mine A man in as big a place as you hold down as you seem to contend, it’s just that—a over here in Japan ought to have a better state of racial psychology, Satsey. Jealous grasp on world psychology than that.” 194 WATCH THE YANKEE! 195

“ Well, if I’m wrong, Marlin San, be dental, friend, than I—William Marlin, kind enough to tell me why there is a—a— American newspaper editor and press cor¬ certain reserve between our two peoples respondent—can be K. Satsumi, the min¬ since we won the Russian war.” ister of public safety for the~city and prov¬ The humorous, tolerant smile never left ince in which we are sitting at this moment, the big American’s features. He tapped by merely asking you for your suit, your off his cigar-ash into the lone tray on the boots, your shirt, and your collar. And if table-top and puffed several seconds in si¬ there’s any feeling of animosity or reserve lence. between us that’s arisen in the last ten or “ Well, in the first place ninety per cent twenty years outside of German manufac¬ of it was made in Germany, Satsey. Don’t ture, it’s because of that; because you Japa¬ forget that.” nese people have sort of made yourselves “ And the other ten per cent?” our debtors who thus far haven’t returned “ The other ten per cent is due to the much of anything to our civilization to re¬ fact that you Japanese don’t quite grasp duce the account.” just what is meant by the term progress. “ I don’t think I wholly understand you, Let me put it the other way around, Sat¬ Marlin San.” sey. Tell me, by progress you mean that “ In plain words and all good, big-broth¬ Japan has just as good administrative insti¬ erly feeling, then, Satsey, let’s put it this tutions, courts, educational systems, mili¬ way: You Japanese have indeed come out tary organizations, transportation facilities, of dark autocracy, and perhaps barbarism, and other phases of a highly developed civic within the last half-century, and we hand and national life as any other country on you all due compliment and credit. But the face of the earth, don’t you?” in doing so you’ve made yourselves the “ I do, Marlin San.” debtor people of the world. You’ve taken “ Very good. Then tell me, Satsey, and taken and taken—from other civiliza¬ where did you get them?” tions and cultures and peoples, principally “ As I said before to-night, we searched the white peoples, and given almost noth¬ the wide world over among all civilizations ing in return. You’ve appropriated our sys¬ and races and classes of people, and adopt¬ tems of government and our military organ¬ ed the best we could find for ourselves.” ization. You’ve taken our educational sys¬ “ Then don’t you see, Satsey, that you tems bodily, and appropriated to your¬ have answered your own question? What selves our arts, sciences, and business meth¬ we white people know as progress is a far ods. Hardly a thing which you can men¬ different thing than what you Oriental folks tion by which the modern Japan has grown conceive. Inversely, what you think is great have you invented for yourselves— progress we consider something entirely dif¬ and still worse, after taking all these phases ferent.” and virtues and modern civilizations from “ What, Marlin San? We’re all good the white peoples, you feel humiliated if we friends and allies here together. Tell me. will not accept you all at once into the full- Japanese people are never ungrateful to fledged adulthood of nations.” those who proffer them help.” The Japanese official was silent and “ Well, what you call your progress in thoughtful. The American went on: the past sixty years, we white peoples con¬ “ We’re not jealous of you little brown sider absolutely nothing but adaption. Per¬ or yellow peoples, friend Satsumi, not in haps a plainer word would be imitation. At the least. You do us an injustice to think heart you folks are pretty much the same so. America believes in a square deal for Japanese you always were; in fact, you nations as well as individuals, and nothing boast of your ability to assimilate Occi¬ gets a cheer out of a Yankee so quickly dental civilization while retaining at the and heartily as the individual or the nation same time all of your Japanese-ism. And who sees their own error, recognizes their there isn’t any such animal, Satsumi. You weaknesses, makes a decision to make some¬ can’t honestly be both Oriental and Occi¬ thing of themselves, and struggles upward 196 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

to hard-won success. It’s for a different dentals have been developing individually. reason that there’s been a bit of reserve And the development of individuality come between us of late. makes for initiative, and initiative makes “ We white folks have felt rather disap¬ for evolution and progress. You yellow pointed in you that you should appropriate peoples lack initiative, friend Satsumi. You all we have had to give you, and proffer lack it the same as we white folks lack your nothing but measly dollars in return. We ability for fine art or imitation. Your white peoples, in these twenty centuries you brains don’t work in that direction. Bear refer to, have gone through blood and fire in mind there’s no malice in telling you to evolve these systems and institutions of this. I’m simply explaining the feeling ours. We’ve birthed them in the travail of that has sprung up between our two nations war and pestilence and intoleration and ad¬ that you have wrongly termed cheap jeal¬ versity. We’ve paid for them—an awful, ousy.” awful price. History is merely an inven¬ “ I understand,” replied Satsumi. tory of that price. We have truly pro¬ “Japan does not need numbers of peo¬ gressed because we thought and fought ple, areas of land, or fleets of gunboats to these things out step by step for ourselves; become great, Satsumi. Those things may only in the furnace of adversity and suf¬ force consideration from the rest of the fering do we evolve principles and charac¬ world for a time, but it adds nothing to ters and institutions that make us great, the world’s sentimental regard for you, Satsumi. makes you no friends, has nothing to do “ And now, after twenty centuries of this with the quality of the stuff that’s in you. unremitting toil and bloodshed, you Japa¬ What Japan needs is a new heart and soul, nese people come along in the year 1858, the ability to grasp spiritual things as well cheerfully looked upon the results of all our as material, the willingness to make the struggle and effort as though it was noth¬ rest of the world her debtor because of the ing, appropriate the results of all our evo¬ benefits she has conferred on all mankind. lution overnight, and claim you have pro¬ Show yourselves a great big nation spirit¬ gressed because by appropriating these ually and altruistically, Satsey—bind the things you stand to-day in a place of rest of the world to you because of the world-power. Putting it that way, Satsey, things you have evolved for yourselves and can you blame us white folks for being a shared with the rest of the world as the rest bit disgruntled when you repeatedly assert of the world has shared that which it has that you are as good and great and power¬ evolved in the last, twenty centuries, with ful as we are? Looking at things from this you—and you won’t need battle-ships or standpoint, do you see what I mean when junkets for your royalty to cement the I say you have become the world’s greatest world’s friendship.” debtor nation?” The Japanese official nodded sadly. The Japanese was a well-educated and “ Well, perhaps,” he said. “ But my na¬ fine-principled man. He saw the justice in tion is young yet, remember. We have not the argument. yet found ourselves in the family of na¬ “ I never had it put up to me in just tions.” that way before,” he said. “ I wonder, now “ Certainly. I know that perfectly. that I stop to think of it, just why we Japa¬ You’re like a kid around sixteen years old nese have not originated something to who suddenly springs up to a height of six strike off some of this world indebtedness feet in a few months. Because he is as tall against us.” as his older brother or his dad, and eats as “ Well,” replied Marlin, “ if you want much food, and has to pay as much car¬ the advice of a friend, I think it’s typical fare, he gets the idea he is as big and im¬ of the temperamental difference between portant as they are. The disillusionment is the Orient and the Occident. In the thou¬ sometimes painful, Satsey. When that kid sands of years past, you Oriental peoples has really come into adulthood and made have developed collectively while we Occi¬ his mark and contributed some years of WATCH THE YANKEE! 197 real usefulness to his family and his race, “ The riots are being caused by German he won’t need long pants and a mustache agents,” declared the official. “ We cannot to call attention to his maturity or get him fix responsibility on them.” regard or prestige.” “ It’s immaterial who’s causing them; “ But I won’t admit,” objected Satsumi, we have German agents trying to make all “ that my people cannot originate—that kinds of trouble in America, too. But we they have no initiative. Their initiative found the way to circumvent them.” simply works out in different ways from “ Then I suppose you hold that you that of you white peoples. So far, the could originate such a plan as would quash things we have worked out for ourselves, I them.” admit, we have kept for ourselves; but, all “ I won’t admit I couldn’t if that was the same, there is no real proof that we ab¬ my job. solutely lack Occidental initiative. Put the “ We were accustomed to a wager be¬ individual Japanese alongside the individ¬ tween ourSelves now and then when we ual American, man for man. Give them were at Harvard together, Marlin San. It both the same problem to solve. And I’ll was, I believe, the great American pastime. wager that one will solve it as quickly as I should like to wager with you now that the other. He may not go about it the you, representing your race, couldn’t solve same way. But he will solve it.” this riot problem within forty-eight hours “ All right, then we’re deadlocked. I any more than I, representing mine, have don’t admit it. I contend that if two such been able to do since they started.” men were given that problem, that if the “ Now you’re offering me a job,” laughed Japanese did find a solution, it would be Marlin. “ And I’ve got work enough to do by methods that the white man worked out out here for my papers. I came out to long before the Japanese man ever dreamed study conditions in the Orient, not turn there were white people in the universe. instructor.” Imitation and appropriation again.” “ But I would make it worth your while. “I’d like to see that problem put to the Japan is not ungrateful, I repeat, to those test.” who try sincerely to help her.” “ All right, we’ll put it to the test. Take Marlin turned to his fellow correspon¬ the matter of these rice riots you’re having dent, who had been an interested listener. this month. You won’t let us go out into “ What about it, Scottie? Should I try your streets because it is dangerous; the it?” white foreigner might get mobbed or Scott shrugged his shoulders. brained with a brickbat. For ten days now “ We Japanese have always looked on you’ve been- having these riots. They’re you Americans as our big brothers. I am as bad as they were the first night, maybe hoping that after the war that feeling will a little worse. You’ve said twice to-night grow stronger. If you could help us to you don’t know how to break them and maintain order and do us a service now stop them excepting by overwhelming po¬ in these troubled times, you would only be lice force which you can’t always exert. cementing the relations along that line be¬ Here’s a case in point. I submit that your tween us. And,” added the Japanese, rowdy element has got out of control be¬ “ you would be proving or disproving a cause you—individually now, we’ll say— contention that I should very much like have presented to you a problem beyond to see decided.” your solution. Right this moment you’re Big Bill Marlin was not anti-Japanese confronted with the same thing that might so much as pro-American. Unwittingly confront a white man in his own country. Satsumi was appealing to his pride in his It’s a good test case. You’ve had all the color and his blood. He knew, too, that opportunity in the world to display initia¬ his Japanese college friend’s position was tive. Yet if a white man faced such a sit¬ threatened by his inability to suppress the uation, I say he’d dope out a solution with¬ rioting which had lately broken out in his in forty-eight hours.” city as well as in others, and that his repu- 198 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

tation as a public official was being com¬ help me clean up afterward. It’s a goP promised. Only I’m not doing it alone for the money, “ I would bet you five thousand yen, although my wife at home will probably sir,” Satsumi returned, after a moment, find a way to spend it. I’m doing it be¬ “that you could not think up a plan for cause I love you, Satsey; because we’re old stopping this disorder before morning.” college friends; because you’re one Oriental Marlin laughed. He showed all of his out of a thousand who’s willing to be shown fine, even teeth. and will admit when he is beaten.” “ What do you think about it, Scottie?” “ Thank you, Marlin San,” the Japanese he asked the other. “ What’s your opin¬ man answered quietly. ions of white men’s brains when necessity When Satsumi had gone, Marlin and has to be the mother of invention?” Scott wandered up and down the wide cor¬ Scott was a diplomat. He tried to ap¬ ridors of the big American hotel. pear at ease, and he shrugged his shoulders. “Poor folks!” commented the former. Marlin leaned forward, his arms on the “ They want to be somebody in the world table. like all the rest of us, Scottie. But they “ You say these riots are being caused don’t know exactly how to go about it. by German agents, Satsey?” ‘ Wily Oriental,’ indeed, Scottie. Doesn’t “ We have proof of it. But we do not the idea make you laugh? They’re kid- know their identity.” brothers, that’s what they are, Scottie, and “ I’ll stop your darned old riots within I can’t help liking them for their unsophis¬ three days for five thousand yen,” he de¬ tication.” clared. “ I’d want one night to look the “ But, Bill, you’ve taken on a big order field over, one night for action, one night to quell these riots single-handed. You to clean up. But I think I’d have the sit¬ must have some plan in mind. How are uation well in hand by the third night.” you going to do it?” Satsumi had forgotten all about the con¬ “ Darned if I know! ” his companion re¬ tention of Japan’s superiority or inferiority plied honestly. in the vastly more important and concrete II. possibility of solving a problem which he knew in his heart he did not have the brains They went up-stairs finally, and to their to solve. room. The hour was ten thirty. Marlin “ I give you my word,” he declared, sat down on one of the modern twin beds. “ that I will pay five thousand yen to you The twinkle never left his eyes. if you would stop the riots in this city with¬ “ Am I a blooming idiot, Scottie, or am in three nights. The disorder is growing I not?” worse. It may spread to the capital. I “ I said you’d taken on a whale of a con¬ . may be criticised—of worse.” tract.” “ Aho! As I thought! You really don’t “ I admit it. But aren’t a Yankee’s give a rap about proving the question of brains equal to it?” brains—white against yellow. You want to “ That depends on who the Yankee hap¬ save your official neck. Well, Scottie here pens to be.” is witness to your offer. I’ll undertake, sin¬ Marlin clasped his fingers around one gle-handed, to squelch your rioting in this knee. He tilted backward, his eyes half place within three nights, although if I closed. really encountered an obnoxious person I “ At the age of fourteen I started away might want to use your police force to get from a little Southern farm with three dol¬ him into the Black Maria.” lars and sixty cents in my pocket and “ You can have all the police you desire. Northern blood in my veins from a father But so far our police have been very in¬ who remained in the South after the war. effective. They are pitted against such That was twenty years ago. Sitting here numbers. There have been fatalities.” on the edge of this bed now in Japan to¬ “ I only want them in emergency, or to night, I’m worth a hundred thousand dol- WATCH THE YANKEE! 199

lars in cash and several American newspa¬ Fifteen or twenty minutes ticked away. pers in securities. And no one ever gave Scott thumped his pillow, fixed it in posi¬ me a measly dollar. Am I conceited? I tion, moved the electric light, and started to am! But I’ve never got in a fix yet that read. I wouldn’t think my way out. Thinking Suddenly Marlin leaped to his feet. one’s way out! What is it but imagination? “ Well,” he announced, “ I’ve got it!” Brains, brains, brains! Gad, what capital “ You’ve got it?” they are for a fellow who hasn’t anything “ I have—thanks to you!” else but his two hands and his appetite! “ Thanks to me!” And here I’ve got to turn ’em to quashing “ I said it. Thanks to you. You gave a dty full of Japanese mobs incited by me the idea—the idea that will land forty German agents. Well, watch my smoke!” or fifty German-paid ringleaders in Japa¬ He laughed again. nese calabooses by day after to-morrow Scott proceeded to remove his white pon¬ night.” gee coat and pull apart his four-in-hand tie. “ When did I give you the idea?” Tossing the collar and tie on the dresser, “ I’ll tell you after I’ve got them landed.” he took a seat on the opposite bed and be¬ “ Are you trying to kid me?” gan to unlace his shoes. Next he pulled “I am not. I mean what I say. I’ve off his white trousers. found my idea.” He stopped unlacing his “Confound it!” he exclaimed. “I in¬ shoes and chuckled. “ Scottie—ever hear tended to buy a pair of white Oxfords to¬ the yam about the hurry call sent to the night, and forgot all about it. I’d like to Governor of Texas once by the mayor of know what the polish is made of that these a Texas city who wanted the militia to darned hall-boys use on the black shoes; quell a riot? Well, the train pulled into look at the bottoms of my trousers.” the station bringing the help the Governor* He held them out for (the other’s inspec¬ had promised. The distraught mayor was tion. there to meet the soldiers. But no soldiers But Marlin was not interested in trousers, appeared. Only one Ranger alighted. even though ruined by cheap Japanese shoe ‘ Where’s the rest of your company?’ the blacking. He stretched out on the bed and angry mayor demanded. And the surprised lighted a cigarette. For several moments Ranger looked around blankly, then turned he lay there blowing smoke upward, his to the mayor and demanded: 1 Why—there eyes dreamy and far-away. ain’tT but one riot, is there?’ You know, “ The thing to do,” he said at last, “ is Scottie, ever since I first heard that yam to get the leaders in these mobs. There I’ve seriously wondered just how that lone must be leaders. And if I capture the lead¬ Ranger managed.” ers, the police ought to be able to make “ Well?” them give up the names of the Germans “ I think I understand now.” who are paying them.” “ What’s your wonderful ‘ single-handed Scottie got into his pajamas and laid the system ’?” smooched white pants carefully aside for “ You’ll see in time.” laundering on the morrow. “ How do you open?” “ But it’s some proposition to fix respon¬ “ I open by dressing in Japanese clothes sibility on the leaders of a mob—in action. —kimono and geta—in fact, making my¬ Have you ever seen a mob in action, Mar¬ self over to resemble a plain Japanese gen¬ lin?” tleman if I can, and, after perfecting my¬ “ Yes,” admitted the other. “ Don’t self in a few Japanese costumes, sauntering forget I come from Georgia.” forth to-morrow night and mixing with the He threw the cigarette away, rolled over mob, old man. In the morning you and I on his chest, and buried his face in his will make a few purchases—that is, if you hands. Scott knew his traveling com¬ care to go through the experience with me.” panion. He recognized that the other was “ You know me, Bill! But what kind of thinking—dynamically. purchases?” 200 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ That would be giving the idea away. “ I don’t understand.” Let’s see — Satsey said the mobs usually “ Of course you don’t. If you did you’d start up around Ginza Park. Well, around be following out this little scheme yourself.” seven o’clock to-morrow night we’ll man¬ Marlin chuckled, sorted out the various age to stick around Ginza Park and do a little tin boxes and glass jars of the toilet little rioting along with the rest.” articles and cosmetics he had purchased. “ Do a little rioting along with the rest! Among them was a small sponge. But what—” “ I wonder,” he mused, “ how I’ll ever “ You’re too blooming curious. Shut up manage to keep that sponge wet?” and go on with your penny-dreadful.” “ Keep the sponge wet? Of what use is a sponge, and why should you want to keep III. it wet?” Five thirty of the following afternoon “ Because with this sponge, Satsey,” the brought Satsumi again. His collar was Yankee returned, “ I’m going to queer your wilted, his hair disheveled, and he looked local rice riots.” as though he had slept in his clothes. The The Japanese peered intently into the average Japanese affecting Occidental attire other’s face as though to learn whether the appears mussy on general principles; the whole thing was a practical joke or whether official from the department of public safe¬ his American friend had suddenly gone ty was in a mental condition where the least crazed in his wits. But Marlin, aside from of his worries was his linen. He was a his toilet exhibit, appeared perfectly nor¬ frump. mal and serious. He turned and appealed “ You are going to give us the benefit of to Scott. But that debonair New-Yorker, your imagination, Marlin San?” he asked in negligee and a brand-new pair of white anxiously. “ I believe you said to-night.” tennis-shoes, made an “ I-should-worry ” He stood at the door of Marlin’s big, airy gesture with his hands and a “ You-can- room, torturing his grimy Panama hat in search-me ” motion with his shoulders. his stubby little hands. Marlin was enjoying immensely the mys¬ “ You’re on! ” the Yankee called cheerily. tification he was causing. As he pulled his “ Come in and find a seat. I’ll need your tie apart and unbuttoned his collar, he expert advice on the make-up.” added: The American stood before his dresser “ If I can keep that sponge wet somehow unwrapping several inconsequential little during this coming evening, I’ll guarantee purchases, most of which appeared to be you most of your riot inciters and trouble¬ toilet requisites. Over the back of a chair makers safely behind bars by the day after was thrown a medium-priced black kimono to-morrow. If I can’t—well—I’ll simply be of the style and quality worn by a pros¬ out of luck, and you’ll be out of a job.” perous Japanese of the middle class. On “ And it all rests upon the dampening of the floor were a pair. of geta, or wooden a sponge?” sandals. Scott was watching from his seat “ It does. Not omitting Yankee nerve on the deep window-sill, his crossed legs and a reasonable amount of imagination.” dangling, his fingers secreting a smoldering Marlin disrobed. He sat down before cigarette. the dresser in his union suit. He dipped “ You are wearing a Japanese costume?” into the cosmetics spread before him. He the official asked. rubbed his face with yellow paste, and it “ You said it. I want to get out among became an olive brown. your manufacturers of progressive Hades “ You do that like an old hand, Bill,” without any one taking particular note that Scott declared from the window-seat. I’m a foreigner.” “ In my thirty-four years I’ve followed “ You mean you are going with the riot¬ every known human occupation but the ers?” priesthood and wearing out a jail. I did “ I am. I’m going to do a little rioting this a whole summer once at Coney Is¬ myself.” land.” WATCH THE YANKEE! 201

He changed his complexion, penciled his They slipped out the side door of the eyes, surveyed himself in a side mirror, and hotel, cut through a side street, and came grunted in satisfaction. upon three kuruma men at a corner. “ Now, then, Satsey,” he begged, “ show “ Tell ’em to take us to Ginza Park,” me how to get into these black nightshirts suggested Marlin to the intensely interested you Samurai affect in public.” Japanese. “ If we spring the king’s En¬ Skeptical but interested, the Japanese glish on ’em in this get-up they may take helped his American friend into the kimo¬ us for missionaries disguised as German no. Marlin removed his socks and drew on spies.” over his bare feet, instead, the tight-fitting “ And you desire that I accompany foot-covers of black silk, with the aperture you?” asked Satsumi. between the first and second toes for the “ Only as far as the park, to give us our thong of the geta. When Satsumi pro¬ bearings. Then I want you to fade. Some nounced him complete with his straw hat one might recognize you and think we were and his American umbrella-sunshade, Mar¬ up to some kind of conspiracy. Which the lin, in light that was not too bright, resem¬ Lord forbid!” bled any prosperous Japanese tradesman of They took their places in the rickshaws, the middle class who might be returning the kuruma men lifted the shafts, swung from his office in the cool of the evening. the little vehicles around, wiped their per¬ He clogged a couple of times up and down spiring foreheads with the blue kerchiefs the room. wrapped about their left wrists, and trotted “ They’re cool enough but mighty nerve- noiselessly away in a westerly direction racking,” he commented, referring to the across the city. kimono clothes from beneath which his bare IV. calves protruded. “ Mary Garden wore more than this when she was pinched. Well, Now, this is a peculiar thing about a Scottie, how about duplicating this little Japanese “ mob ” of “ rioters.” It is de¬ costume and coming along to view the ob¬ liberately manufactured. Among white sequies? Or does my seminude appearance people a mob, is spontaneous, an outburst chill your feet?” of popular concerted emotion. It may be “ I’ll go, Bill,” was the answer. “ But born in a moment, do swift and terrible de¬ I’m going in my good old Yankee habili¬ struction, and within ten minutes disappear ments.” completely and leave the scene of the dev¬ Shortly after seven o’clock, when the astation deserted. summer afterglow was deepening into mel¬ But the Oriental, having borrowed as per low Japanese evening and the rickshaw habit, the outward semblance, but not the men were lighting the paper lanterns on inward soul and ethics of the piece, holds their little two-wheeled vehicles, Marlin notice that he is intending to indulge in a paused by the dresser and picked up two mob, sets his date and his time apd his ren¬ articles lying there done up in paper—ob¬ dezvous, and proceeds to his lawlessness jects about three inches in diameter and an like a caucus. It is not because the Japa¬ inch in thickness, thrusting them into the nese are inherently lawless that they ex¬ sleeves of his kimono, for kimono sleeves press themselves in the mob spirit. But are Japanese pockets. Each sleeve held one Japan being a nation where from time im¬ of the little parcels, the contents of which memorial every person fears the person just Scottie had not been able to discover. above him and every one fears the govern¬ Then Marlin crossed to the bathroom, ment and the government, in turn, fears all turned on the faucet, and dampened the the people, they have discovered that a small sponge with as much water as it manifestation of violence successfully car¬ would hold without soiling his clothes. He ried out ultimately leads to some sort of dropped the sponge in one of his sleeves. official notice. Therefore has it been easy “ Well, Satsey,” he declared, “ we’re for German agents to provoke Japanese ready. Watch the Yankee!” riots. 202 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

The unpleasant features about holding a gate, where he caught sight of them and riot are these: sometimes shop-windows are shadowed them doggedly all that night. broken—which is lamentable, to say noth¬ “ What’s your system?” Scottie asked. ing of extravagant. Sometimes police “ We’ll stick around until somebody boxes on the comers of intersecting streets starts something.” are overturned and fired—which is horrible. “ And then what?” Sometimes a brickbat, hilariously hurled, “ Well, we’ll join in and raise Cain, too.” contacts with a human skull in such a way “ We will? How will that stop the mob?” that sundry individuals are taken suddenly Scottie regarded his friend for a moment. dead—which is both lamentable and horri¬ A light broke over him. “ I begin to see,” ble together or not according to one’s bring¬ he said. “ You’re going to spot the ring¬ ing up. Therefore, on the whole, riots are leaders and arrest them.” undesirable. “ Thanks,” returned his friend dryly. Besides, they look bad in the foreign “ You compliment me. There’ll probably news reports. Because other nations—and be a hundred leaders to this rough-house especially the white nations—measuring by to-night. I sure must have to be some little their own standards, are led to believe that arrester.” the Japanese people en masse are out of “ But you’re going to get a look at them hand entirely, and accomplishing things and arrest them to-morrow or the next day, without limit or discretion after the fashion maybe.” of a white man’s mob—such as tearing up “ Yes, I’m going up with a little book, street-car rails and wrapping them around and ask each mob leader his name and ad¬ maple-trees or throwing taxicabs through dress, and take it down so that some of second-story windows. these little comic-opera cops can call Yet, despite their mild peculiarities when around the next day and pinch him. A measured with an American yardstick, de¬ great idea that! ” Marlin was not sarcastic spite the fact that time and location of a —not in the least. mob are known in advance, Japanese police “ Well, what the devil are you going to are unable to cope with them. Therefore do? Surely you can’t remember the fea¬ we have a narrative. tures of the leaders to-night out of all these The darkness deepened into complete Buddhistic mugs. And the chances are a night as the little six-mile-an-hour vehicles thousand to one you’d never see them again wheedled their way softly across the quiet even if you could remember them.” city. The streets were strange, for the “ I know it.” shops were unlighted. Most of the fronts “ Then how are you going to get them?” had been boarded up to protect costly glass “ With a sponge, my dear boy—with a from the evening’s expected lawlessness. sponge,” the other chuckled. The night was hot. After a time a soft, Scott scuffed along the broad driveway dim Japanese moon came up. In Japan into the park beside his companion, Marlin in the summer-time most of the men go kicking up. little clouds of dust in the finely nude from the waist down and the women crushed traprock by his inability properly from the waist up. The streets are peopled to manipulate his footwear. now by these seminude men in white cotton “ Stop a mob with a damp sponge! ” the shirts and bare brown legs. Women were former mused. “ Well, I’m stumped!” conspicuously absent. “ Of course you are,” said Marlin. “ So At the entrance to Ginza Park, the three was Satsey!” alighted. They paid their rickshaw men The park was filling with males. The and dismissed them. Then, as per instruc¬ little Japanese policemen, in their white tions, Satsumi quitted them. That is, Mar¬ uniforms, sour faces, and two-foot nickel- lin and Scottie thought he quitted them. plated swords, were everywhere. No one They went into the park. They did not was allowed to stop, nevertheless; though see him double back and gain an entrance the police kept the increasing crowds in mo¬ to the great public gardens from another tion, they did not leave the locality. WATCH THE YANKEE! 203

Around and about the great park they “ I’m supposed to do what I’m going to milled, ready to start the riot on schedule, do. Just keep quiet and watch my smoke.” as per custom. And the police knew it per¬ “ Well,” suggested the uneasy Scottie, fectly. “ let’s take another turn around the whole Besides, if the truth were told, regardless place. By the time we get back it ’ll be of whether German agents were at the bot¬ after eight and things ought to happen.” tom of these sudden nightly disturbances, They walked completely around the the police themselves had small heart in the park. It took them twenty minutes. On business of stopping the rioters. Their the whole, aside from a few fantastic Jap¬ chief objective was governmental action in anese shrubs, Scott realized that the place curbing the profiteers and bringing down was not unlike any public park in America, the high price of a great food commodity. for instance the Boston Public Gardens. The police themselves, paid the Japanese Suddenly big Bill Marlin grabbed his equivalent of fifteen to thirty dollars a friend’s arm. month, were suffering, too, from the high “ Gosh, Scottie, we’re due to get bun¬ prices. Although, of course, one K. Sat- coed! ” he cried. “ Look off here to the sumi, being of another cast and rank, had left under the arc-light. Come on, boy! nothing in common with their predicament. We’re missing the grand stand!” More and more people came into the A great commotion had started over in park. They kept in motion, but they kept the other big driveway east from where coming. they were walking. Marlin started for¬ “ Business will be good,” quoth Marlin. ward with Scott after him. They were “ Behold, we have many, many customers! ” suddenly fused in with a mass of pushing, But the puzzled Scott only scowled. shoving, excited humanity, a thousand “ I don’t see how the crowd expects to pairs of geta kicking up the powdered trap- start a riot with all these cops around,” he rock of the parkway. said. “ Bill, if there’s so many of them Up ahead an arc-lamp shone down on a that their presence puts a kibosh on the half-nude man with the kerchief of a coolie riot and I don’t have the chance to see you wrapped about his closely cropped head, shine after all this mystery, I’ll drag you who had balanced himself on a stone post home by the feet and paint that complexion and started jabbering and gesticulating of yours on permanently with iodin!” crazily. An excited rabble milling and “ Keep your shirt on!” the other ordered. seething, answered hysterically. Long- “ If the people keep coming like this for drawn, hideous screeches ending with the another fifteen minutes, the police will be sinister “ Hoosh! Hoosh!” of the fighting as powerless to stop the rough-house as Japanese were taken up. they’d be to keep back the ocean surf down Two police sprang forward crying orders. at Yokohama with a whiskbroom. Let’s Violent hands were laid upon them. They see; Satsey said the trouble was due around were lifted bodily over heads and tossed eight. It’s quarter to eight now. There’s into the shrubbery. thousands of people in this park right at “It’s started!” panted Marlin. , “Be¬ this moment, Scottie. Well, here’s hoping hold, we have a riot!” I don’t get pinched myself.” He plunged into the milling mass of “ You get pinched! What for?” seminude humanity. Scottie felt himself “Rioting, of course!” propelled violently forward by the masses “ Rioting! Are you going to do any coming on behind. He lost his hat. Some rioting really?” one stepped on his stick and broke it off “ You bet your happy life, boy. I’m go¬ in the middle. He stumbled over some¬ ing to have the time of my life to-night body’s lost geta and nearly fell headlong. helping pull up this town to look at its Catching himself, he saw his companion roots!” clawing his way to the front and fumbling “ But you’re supposed to stop the mob, wildly for the kimono sleeve in which lay not aggravate it.” the sponge. 204 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Then the rioter on the post leaped to overturning an occasional police stand, the ground. The long, weird cries, sus¬ now and then breaking a window. It had tained and malicious, sounded with in¬ no especial place to go, no especial work creasing volume afar over the city. The to accomplish, unless a rice-shop came into milling stopped, and the chaos of humanity view. Then the shop was entered and the resolved into a consistent direction. Oriental food thrown out and scattered It flooded and flowed down the wide about and showered on the heads of the avenue to the junction at the gate where luckless like a gigantic wedding procession Marlin and Scott had entered. The dev¬ lacking a bride and groom. astating swarm swept through and out Scott tried to get out of the melee. His into the city with the business districts be¬ new white shoes were ruined and filled with fore them. Pedestrians fled. The mischief cruel bits of rock. His white pongee suit was afoot. Into a narrow street the mob was a mess. Some hysterical person had was wedged and the brickbats began to once laid hold of his four-in-hand tie and fly. A fruit-store stock was upset and a nearly strangled him. Consequently his small cobble broke a forty-cent window. collar was wrecked and bis bead ached And in the front rank was big Bill Mar¬ with the pommeling and jostling and shov¬ lin, as wild and excited and hysterical as ing and pushing that had gone on all the rest, uttering hoarse, incoherent cries around him. and urging the vanguard onward! He was positive that Bill Marlin had Several times Scott saw him when the gone completely loco. He was not trying rioters got out on to the Ichi-Cho or main to stop the rioting. He was abetting it, street of the business section. He was working the crowd to greater hysteria and working himself into an absurd fury. He fury, towering over the natives, yelling knew no Japanese language, but the lan¬ hoarsely, slapping them right and left on guage of a mob, and the language of a mob the shoulders, hammering them over their is not a language of words, but of froth heads with the wreck of his umbrella-para¬ and of action. And Bill Marlin had both. sol, throwing fruit and cobbles with uner¬ They found a police sentry-box on a ring American aim into the panes of un¬ street comer, tipped it over, swarmed over protected windows. it, stamped it into, kindling wood, and Once a Japanese policeman made a pass waved the broken pieces ominously, con¬ for the big American with his sword. Bill tinuously moving onward. Most of the grabbed the little officer and twisted the shop windows had been boarded, and weapon from his grasp. He threw hhn against them rattled and banged the brick¬ bodily back into the crowd which promptly ■ bats. Now and then a bit of glass was passed him on, yelled the louder, carried smashed. A luckless rickshaw or kuruma- him to the edge of a canal bridge at hand man had his little vehicle demolished. At and dumped him over. one place a cordon of policemen appeared, Just once, far down toward the steamer charged down upon them, were turned and docks, Bill Marlin and Scott came face to driven back, and they scurried off like face. The recognition was instantaneous. white rats, diving into doorways and shel¬ “ HoorahJ” yelled Bill. “ Ain’t this the ters and vanishing through alleys. Charlie Chaplin of a time, though, Johnny Another fruit-store had its stock de¬ Scott? I ain’t had such a night since we molished. A bicycle-shop was plundered, painted Cambridge red, back in nineteen and scores of boys tried to riot cm wheels. four and left old man Washburn’s cow up They were knocked off and bruised, and on the roof of the Holworthy Dormitory. they left their machines behind for those Oh, boy, kick in! It’s glorious!” And following to stumble over and become bat¬ with the whoop of a wild Indian he hit tered and braised likewise. Scott a crack on the shoulder that loosened This was a Japanese “ mob,” cramming a dozen of his teeth. through the streets, shouting, shoving, “ Bill! Bill! ” cried Seattle. “ Come throwing around fruit and little cobbles, back, Bill! There’ll be hell to pay for this, WATCH THE YANKEE! 205

Bill. You ain’t stopping nothing, you’re I suppose next thing they’ll be calling us only making them worse. And I thought German spies and ordering us shot at sun¬ you had some remedy up your sleeve for rise. Where’s my side partner?” stopping it all and making good your claim “ I do not understand.” to American brains. Oh, Bill!” “ By any chance there isn’t another big But Bill had gone onward in the pande¬ Yank incarcerated in this amputation par¬ monium, and Scott was caromed around lor who looks as if shooting at sunrise was and around and finally spun out of the way too good for?” and into a gate which gave way before him “ I am very sorry, do not understand.” and precipitated him into an alley between “ Am I the only American carried out two buildings. of last night’s ruckus on a door?” Its cowering owner from his hiding-place “ Door?” on the premises ran forward wih a club. “ Dammit! don’t you understand human A great shower of sparks suddenly bloomed conversation? Am I the only victim of before the rabble-buffeted American and last night’s riots?” his head tried to explode. “ Oh, no,” replied the doctor, “ there are When he opened his eyes—it seemed like many of them; but you are the only for¬ an instant—the sun was shining! eigner—at least who was injured for hos¬ pital.” V. “ Don’t call me a foreigner or I’ll make “ Where the devil does that sun come your head look more wonderful than mine. from?” Johnny Scott demanded. Where’s Bill Marlin? And get the Ameri¬ He sat up in a cot bed arid gazed blank¬ can consul here within ten minutes or I’ll ly at the window. Then his head felt run amuck in this vivisection museum and queer and weighty. He lifted his trem¬ turn all the customers out of their beds! ” bling hand and found himself swathed in “ If you do not keep quiet it will be bandages. necessary for me to call police. They will A little fat Japanese doctor, who looked remove you to prison.” like a Buddhist idol, came across to him. “ What for? I haven’t done anything, The doctor spoke English brokenly. only take what usually is handed out to in¬ “ You were not wise foreigner. You nocent bystanders.” must stay in hotel while are rice riot.” “ Ah, but the police have proof.” “ Where the devil am I?” “ Proof? Proof your grandmother! “ You are in hospital. You were hurt Tell that to your ancestors. You’ve got in riot.” the wrong bird. A crazy fool named Mar¬ “ Yes, that’s it, some one danced for¬ lin is the Exhibit A you’re looking for. ward with a club and cracked me a couple If you don’t let me go home I’ll make this while I was down. I’m going back. I place look like Belgium.” think I’d remember that guy if I met him.” Scott was becoming violent. The doc¬ “ Very sorry,” declared the doctor with tor summoned an attendant and spoke curt¬ his inscrutable grin and mask of superpo¬ ly to him in his native tongue. The man liteness, “ but you cannot go until police started away on a double-quick run. have said so. You are under arrest for “ Do I get out of this place?” demanded making riot.” Scottie. “ Outside of my head I’m all “ I’m wkat!” right.” . “ You are under arrest for making riot.” “ The officials—I have sent for them. “ Who said so?” They will come presently. There will be “ Police; they said so when they brought explanations.” you.” Scott was appeased but not calmed. “ So the police brought me here, did “ What time is it?” he demanded. they?” Scott groaned. “ I knew it, I “ Three o’clock,” the doctor answered. knew it. Bill Marlin went completely off “ Three o’clock in the afternoon?” his nut and 'got both of us into this mess. “ Yes.” 206 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ How long have I been in here taking “ Where’s the consul?” Scott demanded. the count?” The officials indicated, none too pleas- “ You were brought here early this morn¬ ahtly, that he should seat himself. An in¬ ing.” terpreter entered. Scott lay back and considered. “ We have notified your consul. There " I know now why Bill wanted a damp will be Americans over here shortly.” sponge,” he declared. “ He had visions of But Scott never heard the last of the himself with his own head busted open. Sentence! He fainted and fell forward. Only instead of his head, it was mine. When he recovered, big Bill Marlin, in a They’ve operated on the wrong Yankee!” fresh, natty, pongee suit, Panama hat, and Within ten minutes the police came—a white shoes, was seated before him, all fiery little man who felt the weight of his traces of last night’s disguise removed from position keenly. The doctor interpreted: his features; on them, instead, a cheerful “ You must go to the police station with grin. Satsumi was present also. The offi¬ the officer,” he ordered. cers had disappeared. “ But I’m innocent!” swore Scottie. “ That sponge,” began Scott in beautiful " That is for you to prove,” the doctor sarcasm, “ you forgot to let me carry the replied. “ It is different in Japan than in otherwise useless thing for you. Can I America. It is for you to prove your in¬ borrow it now—that is, if you’ve kept it nocence, not for the police to prove your damp so long?” guilt.” “ Sorry you got brained, Scottie, but on “ I want to communicate with the Amer¬ the whole you don’t seem much the worse ican consul.” for it. You’ll probably finish life without “ The police will do that for you. You seriously noting the loss, I dare say. As must go with the officer.” for the sponge you make so much sport Plainly the little policeman had no relish over, I kept it damp enough, thank you, to for the job of handling the big American. accomplish the purpose I had in mind.” He was a badly scared man. But what he “ Oh, you did? You’ll be telling me lacked in courage he made up in dignity— next that you stopped last night’s riot.” and trusted to his ancestors to get him “ I did not stop last night’s riot. I had through safely. no intention of doing so. But there will Scott arose rather- dizzily and suffered be no rioting to-night. Am I right or the young attendant to lace on his oxfords. wrong,- Satsey?” “ Where’s my coat?” he demanded. “ You are right,” the Japanese admit¬ “ It will be returned^ to you at the proper ted. time at the police station. It is being held Scott looked from one face to the other as evidence.” blankly. “Evidence! My coat? This is certain¬ “ Well, then, what the devil happened ly some country where the comic-opera after I got the knock-out?” '* cops go around arresting people’s clothes! “ Nothing specially. The mob gutted Well, come on, old doughnut-face. But if a few more rice shops, wore itself out, in¬ the American consul isn’t there by the time jured two policemen permanently, and we arrive at headquarters, I’ll start some¬ then went home to bed. On the whole, a thing between the nations that ’ll make pleasant time was had by all. But there the California alien land-law look like will be no repetition. And Satsey admits Kaiser Bill’s future!” the Yankees have shown him a new wrinkle They went out and through the after¬ to copy.” noon streets. They arrived at the police The Japanese looked rather chagrined. station, Scott being on the verge of faint¬ “ It is so,” he admitted. ing several times with the effort. “You see, Scottie, if you hadn’t met He was taken up-stairs where several with an accident you could have been little men in very big and imposing uni¬ around last night and to-day to see the forms sat around tables. fun; but you had to go and get your day- WATCH THE YANKEE! 207

lights knocked out, and arrested besides, ed—thinking and staring at the foot of and as long as you didn’t communicate the bed. His trousers hung over the chair with the consulate I couldn’t tell where that was placed directly in the line of his you were and come to your assistance.” vision, the trousers that the day before had “ And you mean I’m arrested for my been spoiled by cheap Japanese shoe-black¬ part in last night’s melee and you’re going ing. On the corner of the chair-back, too, free? You blooming rascal, you! You hung the pongee coat ruined in the pre¬ know very well who was in the lead of that vious night’s pandemonium. Suddenly riot, inciting those coolies.” Scott sat upright in bed, disregarding the “ Which was all a part of the big idea,” violent pain in his skull. his friend replied. “ Come on, Johnny. He reached for the telephone. We’ve fixed the officials. It was all a mis¬ “ Get me the office of the Japan News take that you were arrested, anyhow. Or and Journalhe directed. perhaps it was my fault. I never should In due time he got the Englishman wrho have hammered you on the shoulders hard owned that newspaper at the other end of enough to loosen a dozen teeth.” the wire. “ What’s loose teeth got to do with me “ Henshaw? This is Scott talking— getting pinched?” Johnny Scott, of New York—you remem¬ Marlin glanced at Satsumi. ber me. Henshaw, tell me something: “ Shall we tell him?” he asked. have there been a lot of arrests this morn¬ “ As you wish,” the Japanese replied. ing because of last night’s rioting?” “ Because he’s so beautifully sarcastic “ Yes, over seventy ringleaders have I’m minded to keep him guessing how I been taken into custody.” handled that mob and busted up these rice “ And has anything come of it?” riots—at least locally—until we get back “Well, I should say so; there wasn’t a to the hotel.” He turned to the door and wrong man among the whole bag. It was put his head out. “ Call three kurumas,” so uncanny—the way the network of po¬ he told the boy in the hall. lice all over the city brought in those ring¬ They helped the unfortunate victim of leaders from so many districts, that they the night’s adventure down-stairs and into lost their nerve, broke down and implicated the rickshaw. Scott had been given back his three of our prominent German citizens. coat. From the color of it, surely it was I understand the Germans will be interned excellent evidence that he had engaged in or deported. And the government’s now some kind of progressive hoodlumism; but salving the trouble over by selling a lot of it was a coat, and covered his torn shirt rice on a subsidy.” and battered arms. “ Do you happen to know how the po¬ Arrived at the hotel, Marlin helped his lice, in far different parts of the city, prob¬ friend up to their rooms and into bed. ably acting under orders, were able to bag “ Better go to sleep and slumber off that the right men everywhere?” * head,’ Johnny,” his friend advised. “ By “ I know, Mr. Scott. But it’s a police the time you’re fit, the morning papers secret. They might want to employ the will be out and we’ll know for certain same method again.” whether my cure worked. If there are no “ I understand. I just wanted to make riots anywhere to-night it ought to be a sure my deduction was correct. There’s pretty conclusive thing that I made good a smart Aleck down-stairs who originated last evening, hadn’t it?” the idea, and I’m going to double-cross “ Keep your confounded explanations! ” him. Henshaw, did a sponge have any¬ stormed Scottie. “ I wouldn’t listen to thing to do with it?” them for fifteen cents a word.” Scott could hear the editor sputtering violently with indecision at the other VI. end. Scott lay thinking for a long time after “ Yes,” he said finally. “ How did you Marlin and his Japanese friend had depart¬ know?” 208 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ Because I figured in that plan while it cover removed, and then suddenly slapped was being put in execution, and I’ve got a his countryman on the shoulder with a suit ruined that cost me thirty dollars. blow that jarred the previously mentioned Thanks, old man. See you later.” And and requisite number of teeth. he hung up the receiver. “ What the—” cried Marlin, springing He climbed out bf bed and searched up. around in Marlin’s closet until he found “ Officer, arrest that man!” called Scott the Japanese kimono his friend had worn dramatically to an imaginary policeman in the night before. He ran his hands into the doorway. ’ the sleeve-pockets and found the object he Marlin looked at the shoulder where desired. Chuckling, he crossed to the bath¬ Scott had slapped him. room. On the white-pongee material, as clean He dressed himself presentably as best and sharp and distinctly as it had shown he could with his head throbbing, and a for the identification of the city police on few moments later returned down the big the shoulders of seventy Japanese rioters wide hotel stairs. One of his hands was early that morning, was the imprint of hidden in a side-pocket of his Palm-Beach four fingers smooched with cheap Japanese coat. He saw Marlin and Satsumi sitting shoe-blacking! before the same lacquered-topped table in “ How did you discover I marked the the enclosed veranda they had been gath¬ ringleaders in that way?” demanded Mar¬ ered around when the wager started two lin. days before. “ Oh,” returned Scott quite carelessly, Scott walked up unnoticed. In place “ leave it to the Yankee! How about it, of a sponge he wetted his fingers with sa¬ Satsumi?” liva, rubbed them on the object in his But Satsumi only made a despairing pocket in which was a little tin-box with the gesture with his hands!

Nine Times Out of Ten

WAR, to the average German military expert, was, first of all, a spectacle; and the more spectacular it could be made, the better he seemed to like it. Von Kluck’s drive on Paris was admittedly most spectacular, but, as it happened, he would have been a whole lot better employed at the then much easier job of capturing the Channel ports. What he and the German High Command seem to have forgotten most persistently in the early stages of the great conflict was the simple but potent fact that the principal objective in war is to win—and that the frills and furbelows of pomposity and power mean nothing whatever if they are not on the winning side at the finish. There doesn't seem to be any particular connection between Germany’s defeat and the business of writing stories. And there isn’t, except that the unsuccessful story is unsuccessful nine times out-of ten because the author has omitted a simple but all-important truth from his calculations. He has forgotten or ignored the fact that the most essential thing about the job of writing a story is the story itself! While it is'quite true that there are a great many good stories ruined by bad workman¬ ship, it is just as equally true that there is a lot of good workmanship thrown away on bad stories—stories that are not worth the telling in the first place. Knowing how to tell a worth-while story in a worth-while way is mostly a matter of practical writing experience and the author’s inherent artistry. But the matter of deciding not to tell a certain story at all— That’s fiction sense—plus! The Look-Out Man. COMPLETE IN THIS ISSUE.

I. poverty-stricken neighborhood that the Ghetto can reveal anywhere from Cherry IT was Artist William Rawley, I believe, Street to the Gas-House District and from who said that Ludlow Street never the Bowery to the East River. laughs. Yet Ludlow Street had its laugh! But Bill’s opportunities for dose observa¬ Not loud and boisterous—nevertheless, a tion were limited—owing to his fixed resi¬ laugh, despite its softly jeering note. It dence, which was Ludlow Jail. Further¬ crept like a miasma, from Dvinsky’s Hair- more, he only was repeating what others be¬ Dressing Parlor—ordinary barbering is un- fore him had said. remunerative in Ludlow—to the Rumanian There are such crabbed pessimists: men and Russian delicatessen-shop, “ La Cioba- who, in cold blood, will defame a character, nul din Vaslui,” at Houston; infecting every a city or world—twist and pervert a half- garret, cellar, and tenement hovel, with its truth to their own base purpose of sensa¬ contagious, derisive chuckle. tionalism. And this was the way of it. Ludlow Street’s adults seldom smile, per¬ haps. But the pessimists are unfair to Lud¬ n. low’s children, who they claim, don’t know Lou Raridan mentally turned the leaves how to laugh or sing or play! of his imaginary “ Rule-Book on Young When the youngsters go to the public Ladies’ Behavior ” to th§ formula on school opposite Ludlow Jail—that is, when “ What a man should do when he forgets they cannot escape the truant-officer or the to show up on time to escort his fiancee to factory-inspector, or if they are not too the play to which he has invited her.” dirty and ragged to be admitted—they very The formula for procedure, if a bi{t tedi¬ often do learn to laugh honestly, and to ous, at least appeared quite simple. sing and play, as well. Of course, between He would find Carol indignant, piqued, school, sessions and during vacations they possibly bitterly offended. are too busy helping earn their keep to His first move, then, would be to scourge waste time in profitless merriment. himself mercilessly with verbal cat-o’-nine- There isn’t must to laugh about, any¬ tails; denounce himself before her as an in¬ way—if you live in the heart of the most excusably rude, selfish, inconsiderate chump 3 Argosy * * 210 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE,

—and a foozling ass who could not gage ac¬ Carol now spoke reflectively: curately the hours, minutes, and seconds re¬ “ A great number of men seem to find it quired for a few rounds of drinks with the helpful to possess ambition or some definite “ boys.” purpose. Have you ever thought of taking She probably would endorse these state¬ up anything serious, Lou?” ments—since this was by no means his first Raridan’s laugh was short and cynical. transgression, and her anticipated enjoy¬ “ The public’s conception of a ‘ comic ’ car¬ ment of the Barrie play had been so keen. toonist’s life! Just one, long, grand joke! But the edge of her wrath would be turned. May I inform you that it’s a serious enough After a further period of self-abasement, job for me to get out a daily cartoon, a he could advatice discreetly to the shamed Sunday 1 comic,’ another ‘ strip ’ for syndi¬ apology and hopeful suggestion: “ Nothing cating, and my ‘ animated pictures ’ for the for us now, I suppose, but a Manhattan movies?” Roof show or a cabaret. What do you “ No doubt; but you’ve confessed that say, Carol?” you have no interest in your work aside And from this point he could return safe¬ from the money it brings. And that goes ly and expeditiously to his own jovial self as fast as you earn ft. Something like the again. Simple—quite simple! With a little squirrel on his wheel; don’t you think? He finesse. has his ‘ good time—hitting the high spots,’ The only difficulty Lou found was that too, you know. Carol refused to behave according to for¬ “ Candidly, Lou, I’d rather you were a mula. ribbon-clerk, working with an ambition to Knowing Carol, he did not expect tearful progress somehow. There would be hope reproach or an outburst of rage; neither, for you then.” in fact, was essential. Still, he did not Imagine! This twaddle from the amuse¬ dream that any girl could be so emo¬ ment-loving girl who accompanied him to tional, under the circumstances. Her cloak' every mask and artists’ ball and “ show ” in lay in an unhurried fold upon the Louis town. If she had not enjoyed them, why Quinze lounge in the music-room. Only a hadn’t she said so? It was on Lou’s mind calm seriousness was in her gaze, and the to unchivalrously tax her with this—when tone of her voice was quiet, almost patient. his heart sank like a plummet to unknown The cumulative effect of all this serenity depths. and poise was more disquieting to Lou than Carol was fingering her engagement-ring a tantrum would have been. There was —the diamond solitaire he had given her. something ominous about it. That she merely twisted the ring, absently, “ Really, Lou, it doesn’t matter,” she did not lift him appreciably from his de¬ was saying—that much being encouraging. pression. “ The only thing that does matter to me Silences between lovers often come as a is this: with the present rate at which I’m caress, a benediction, a communion of souls; losing respect for you, how long will it be again, they are painful and disturbing. Lou before I shall have none left? Sounds like a Raridan now discovered them in the latter problem in arithmetic or algebra; doesn’t classification, and did not delay his con¬ it? strained “ Good night.” “ I’d like to know the ‘ answer,’ because He carried away with him a vision of I’m dreadfully old-fashioned. I do believe Carol, standing in the reception-hall: the I want to respect the man I marry.” soft, amber light touching her waves of Finesse deserted the wilted Lou. Under deep-chestnut hair with unexpected gleams her calculating eye, he felt like a “ Sum ” and rich burnishings; her lovely face set in on the blackboard—a sum from which its resoluteness. Too greatly perturbed, he the “ chances of the prospective husband ” did not observe that her eyes yielded a were to be subtracted, one by one, until only trace of pity and—a close-guarded affection. a cipher remained and the board would This picture of her did not help restore be rubbed clean of him. his tranquillity. Carol was in earnest. But WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED. 211

wh^t could he do? How could he make Raridan peered under lowering brows at himself over? A “ gay life ” always had this excessively irritating chap. appealed to him—it was too late to change “ Nowhere,” he grunted, attempting to habits already formed. rub liis spine. “ Got enough o’ this con¬ This was Lou Raridan’s belief, which he founded old rattle-trap. Needs new mat¬ straightway acted upon. 1 tress.” His speech, then and thereafter, He quit the poker-game some time after was somewhat thick in utterance and suf¬ midnight. In some strange manner, the fered impediment, elision and liaison of syl¬ pavement had usurped the functions of a lables that cannot be rendered gracefully treadmill; so that, while he kept moving in printer’s type. constantly, he wasn’t getting on. A night- “ But you can’t go about in yer full- hawk, recognizing his predicament, swooped dress suit, sir!” protested the cabby. down upon him. “ Who says I can’t? Go about dressed “ Where to, boss?” the cabby inquired as I please! What’s the fare?” when his fare had negotiated the perilous Lou. discovered that more skill was re¬ climb into the hansom. quired to count out the twelve dollars asked “ Round ’n’ round ’n’ round,” murmured than he would have imagined. Finally in the weary 'Raridan, trying to pin his whirl¬ exasperation he proposed: “ Make it five! ing head down to the musty upholstery and Here’s a five-spot right handy. Didn’t stretch his legs comfortably over the dash¬ take me where I wanta go, anyhow.” board. “ Twelve it is, sir. Not a penny less! “ Right you are, sir,” said the cabby, con¬ You says to drive ye aroun’ and I been firming the instructions. He had had many doin’ it th’ whole blessed night.” a fare who wished to drive aimlessly “ Who wants to ride in that junk-cart all “ around,” taking the air. night? Did / say so? No! Had a right The cabby clucked from his perch, and to ask me. You’re too presumin’—too the ancient equipage rattled off upon its damn presumin’!” journey to nowhere. Shaky in body, but still energetic in the Lou was awakened by the loud and glee¬ defense of his “ rights,” Raridan lifted him¬ ful laughter of fresh young voices. His self to the floor of the cab. Thus seated, sun-worried eyes perceived that it was day¬ with legs dangling outside, he was prepared light. Removing his cramped limbs from to argue his cause indefinitely. the dashboard, he carefully pulled himself Eying him bellicosely, the cabby forth¬ up to a sitting posture and looked about with delivered this ultimatum: “ Either ye him. cough up, or ye go tell it to the judge.” The youthful shouts now were explained. Raridan seized with delight upon the sug¬ Somehow a group of schoolboys had ac¬ gestion. “ That’s fair—perfectly fair! Let’s quired his silk hat, and they were trying put it up to the judge—any judge you it on, in turn. Floundering from the cab, name. He oughta be a man o’ sense. Bet Lou rescued the hat; then, teetering by the you a ten-spot I win—th’ judge holdin’ curb, tried to orient himself. stakes!” Apparently he was in a cross street, some¬ But the cabman already had leaped to where off lower Fourth Avenue. The mel¬ his seat, and the horse now started with a ancholy nag—doubtless second-hand, like jerk that tossed Raridan backward in a the vehicle—was nosing pessimistically in huddle. its feed-bag. Yonder, at a lunch-wagon, The magistrate, while sympathetic, evi¬ the driver also was refreshing‘himself. dently had opinions of justice that conflicted Observing that his fare was awake and with Lou’s. Upon learning the identity of up for the day, the cabby crammed the last the artist, whose work appeared in the of a sandwfch into his mouth and came judge’s favorite morning newspaper, he bustling thither. urged Raridan to pay the cabman’s charge; “ Good mornin’l” was his cheery greet¬ explaining that the alternative was impris¬ ing. “ Fine day, sir. Now where, sir?” onment. 212 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

For once, Lou refused to abide by the rul¬ After several days of durance, he collected ing of an umpire. It suddenly had occurred his poker winnings; then, disregarding the to him that his rights as a free-born Ameri¬ taunts of the Alimony Club members, who can citizen were being trampled upon—and accused him of ignoininiously weakening, all bets were off! He hoped to go to jail, he sheepishly bought his way out of jail. before he would permit an unjust, tyranni¬ III. cal court to uphold that thieving black¬ guard, meaning the cabby. “ Gwan, say it! Do yuh, or don’t yuh, Therefore, the regretful magistrate was agree tuh t’row up yer job in favor of a obliged to grant him his wish. better man—which is yours trooly?” de¬ Apparently ennobled by martydom, Lou manded Zech Samstag, who had Hennie freely forgave the judge hfs “ rotten deci¬ Hymowitz exactly where he wanted him. sion ” and offered to shake hands. Oh, Hennie darted despairing glances, this yes! He had one little request to make. way and that, from the corner of Stermer’s “ Your honor, if ’tis the same to you,-I’d push-cart garage into which he had been prefer a nice, comfortable jail like Ludlow lured. Possessing a high order of courage, —where I know Bill Rawley and some other however, he still demurred. fellows. Sort o’ congenial atmosphere, Zech planted the muzzle of an automatic y’ know, so I’ll get the right ideas for my in the pit of the young man’s stomach and * comics ’—and can send them along regu¬ backed him up against the wall. Then, larly to that other tyrant, the managing with his unemployed fist, the tough coolly editor. He’ll demand ’em—jail or no jail— battered the defenseless Hennie into a con¬ the slave-driver! ” dition that precluded all possibility of job- “H-m!” thoughtfully remarked the holding for some time to come. judge, who, being very human, would as Kicking the sprawled victim once or soon have missed his coffee as the Raridan twice, Zech cheerfully made his way across cartoon that went with it. to the pickle-works and announced to the So it happened that Lou Raridan was nervous manager that the new driver for committed to the “ debtors’ prison,” Ludlow their wagon would be on the job in an hour Jail—reminiscent, in certain aspects, of or so. London’s Marshalsea that was. Zech’s methods, while hardly those of a On the following day, which brought . chevalier sans reproche, almost invariably clearer vision, he could not have told exactly brought results. why he was there—except that a cabman Driving a pickle-wagon did not appeal so had robbed him, under protection of the very strongly to him, although, having just law, and that as a true American citizen returned from the Island and hard labor, he could not in conscience submit to the the job would not seem too exhausting for outrage, and would not. Furthermore, it the few days he would hold it. was good sport and a decided novelty to And, together with the drubbing, it af¬ join in the “ beer and skittles ” of the jolly forded a convenient means of revenge upon “ Alimony Club ” in Ludlow. Hennie. Of course, Zech’s girl—Becky He sent his drawings to the Daily Sphere, Levinsky—had been free to console herself upon schedule; each strip and cartoon bear¬ as best she might during his absence, but ing as usual, beneath his signature, the tiny it was Hennie’s present misfortune that he thumb-nail sketch of a teddy-bear—from had been the chosen recipient of her favors which Lou derived his nickname, “The while Zech had been “ doing his bit.” Teddy-Bear,” dubbed him by the artists’ Well pleased with himself, therefore, this fraternity. Now, it amused him to attach bantam of Beelzebub swaggered down Lud¬ a ball-and-chain to the hind leg of the toy low Street, bound for refreshment at Rol¬ cub. ler’s Saloon. His cap was slanted cockily Nevertheless, the fun soon staled. Hap¬ over one eye, and the hand that was not py-go-lucky Lou was. not meant for cap¬ thrust into his pocket levied toll impar¬ tivity, however gilded the bars of his cage. tially upon Japanese figs, pickled herring WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED. • 213

and vegetables,, and other appetizers dis¬ “ Believe I’ll take a stroll here, while I played by booths and push-carts along his dope out what’s what,” Lou murmured. path. Not even “ the cop ” walked with And nonchalantly stroll he did, while await¬ more assurance. ing the “ idea ’’—after his manner of idly The yendors thus despoiled had not yet tracing whirligigs on bristol board, until in¬ learned what Zech had done to Hennie Hy- spiration for a “ comic ” arrived. mowitz; but they knew things far worse He walked north, past Delancey Street about the gang of thieving toughs and gun¬ and the “hot-and-cold marble baths”; men headed by Zech. So they muttered through the lane of jobbers’ diops handling their protests into their beards joining soft¬ stationery, notions, and toys—toys destined ly in the maledictions whispered by every never to reach Ludlow’s hoys and girls in honest man or woman who watched the no¬ the tenement rooms up-stairs. torious gangster pass. Facing about, at the head of Ludlow, he The terror he inspired naturally increased retraced his steps—passing such busy places the gunman’s pride. And his triumphant as the kosher meat-shops, and “ live fish progress was marked by a festal fountain markets,” with their wares swimming in a of tobacco-juice spurting almost continuous¬ large tank by the window—from which each ly from the comer of his mouth. customer’s choice was caught by hand-net As he spat with contempt and arrogance, and “ landed,” flopping and gasping. one of these brownish streams narrowly His eyes was drawn to the ramshackle, missed spraying the aristocratic boots of a Hebrew and Yiddish book-shop displaying gentleman who stood abstractedly outside almanacs, copies of the “ Book of Holi¬ the red brick walls and high, grated win-. days,” profound religious treatises, cere¬ 'dows of Ludlow Street Jail. monial and prayer-cloths, candlesticks; It was characteristic of dapper Louis while in the cellar beneath a produce-dealer Raridan that, just released from prison, he was storing cabbages. had- not the faintest idea of his next move. A “study ” of a shawled old woman cut¬ He had concluded that Carol was lost ting huge loaves of sour black bread and to him—she might as well have handed him selling them by the slice, commanded his the ring and have had it over with; yet interest. Back of her booth was a ship- her extremely frank criticism had brought window glorified by immense cheeses re¬ him a sudden, violent distaste for his work, sembling cart-wheels and grindstones. so that he had arranged for a vacation Thus he came to the curb apple-market, from the Sphere office. near Canal Street. He saw the barrels un¬ “ Now what?” repeated Lou, whose plans loaded from drays and placed upright on had not gone into such petty details as to pavement or in the gutter, and the whole¬ .where and how he would spend his holiday. saler proceeding to remove the barrel-heads. Subconsciously he was attracted by a Immediately, provision-store dealers, gro¬ beer-sign, and his feet started ambling across cers, push-cart men, apple-women — all the street. He was almost over the threshold swarmed about; poking their fingers below before he discovered that the graphic pre¬ the top layer of fruit; questioning, arguing, sentment of a supposed “ foaming glass ” grumbling, perhaps denouncing the whole¬ actually was the highly colored likeness of saler as a thief and a robber. a tombstone, with its appropriate back¬ Lou studied the excitedly chaffering ground of fleecy clouds and greensward. groups—the straggly beards furiously wag¬ This association of ideas so tickled his ging; palms raised supplicatingly; bodies fancy that he turned from the monument- writhing in agony of protest; a retailer’s shop to grin into the window of the bakers’ shoulders shrugging their resignation as— supply store. To his keen gratification, the bargain closed—he departed sorrowfully grin was returned with interest by a pretty, with the expectation of reaping a paltry sloe-eyed young miss at a desk inside. hundred per cent profit—or so—on his pur¬ Ludlow Street obviously was rich in di¬ chase. He marked the sober gray—the verting surprises! Jew’s favorite color—revealed in long coats 214 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

and caps and shawls and dresses, blending over, her knowledge of the English tongue in with the asphalt of littered street and was limited. drab tenements and bringing out in sudden Lou discreetly flashed a modest roll of contrast the cheerful, rosy-reds and bright bills, thereby promoting immediate under¬ yellows of the fruit. standing. The dumpy woman’s husband “ Oh, for a board and crayons! ” he mut¬ was summoned, and after animated con¬ tered, for the first time in almost ten years. versation between the couple, the man set A suggestion flashed upon him. “ Why forth the highest rental he deemed the not?” he asked himself at first, jokingly, “ tariff would bear.” To his disappoint¬ then more than half in earnest. ment, Lou'accepted the terms without a When in art school, and a while after, he moment’s haggling. had been ambitious to do something “ big ” A lodger to whom “ money was no ob¬ —painting, genre and portraits, maybe. ject ”! Promising himself to raise this Hope of fame had fizzled out long before affluent fellow’s rent in the very near future, he had become “ famous ” as the creator the “ landlord ” supervised his wife’s re¬ of popular comics—but now—now he had a moval of the coal from the bathtub and corking chance to indulge his old-time the few bundles of personal belongings from foible. the room. Indeed, why not spend his entire vaca¬ Louis Raridan shortly found himself the tion, painting these amusing people? Ad¬ possessor of a stunted apartment and a mittedly, painting wouldn’t bring him any bathroom in miniature, but he took no great money. He knew—because he’d tried it. pride in either. Closer inspection merely On the other hand, he could think of no intensified his dismay. Before he could be¬ other holiday pastime that would run him gin regretting his escapade, he determined less into debt. to get busy.. “ Christopher! Wouldn’t it be a lark to Luckily, hardship had been no stranger live right here among my models! ” to the artist in past days. Experience Louis Raridan was a creature of impulse. guided him as he went out hastily to buy He spun on his heel, swung up Ludlow, and soap, bucket, scrub-brush, insecticides, and presently entered a shop that offered “ bar¬ other household implements and supplies. gains in new and misfit clothing.” On his way back he met an urchin hauling “ This makes me feel more in character,” stolen wood in an “ express-wagon,” and he thought, self-approvingly as he reap¬ despatched the boy to Ludlow Street Jail peared—now the “ needy artist,” togged in with a note requesting his drawing mate¬ cheap worsted, a gray flannel shirt, limp rials. tie, and worn fedora. His natty, expensive¬ Lou was tired when, after hours of scrub¬ ly tailored suit was tied in the bundle under bing, he gazed out of a now clean window- his arm. pane that overlooked the curb apple-market. He found Blochstein’s a dairy restaurant His “ housecleaning ”—done of necessity agreeably clean; discovering likewise, a new with the door open, part of the time—had edge to his appetite. Now refreshed, he become the marvel of the tenement. Not repaired to lower Ludlow Street, to begin even at Pesach, the annual cleaning-time, his search for a dwelling-place. had his fascinated neighbors ever beheld That afternoon, Lou came upon the room the like! Then and there, “ Philip Brad¬ he sought—two floors above the “ herring ford ”—the name he had assumed—ac¬ and fish ” store that specialized in “ new quired his reputation as an eccentric. Matjes herring ” and “ real Halvah.” Philip himself was inclined to be pleased The dumpy, Russian woman was quite with his labors. “ Won’t be half bad when willing to crowd her brood into one room I get the walls patched and redecorated, less—in behalf of a paying lodger; but she the floor stained and covered with a few could not understand his insistence upon rugs, and buy some decent furniture—and having exclusive control of the floor’s bath¬ an oil-stove,” he soliloquized. Of course, tub—one of the few in the block. More¬ he must watch his purse, which was not as WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED. 215 well-filled now as it might be. But, if nes- fling it far across the “ banquet ” board— essary, he could sell humorous sketches— thus signifying die casting away of sin. “ pot-boilers ”—to magazines. Among those in the gathering below had His newspaper connection had no place in been the Widow Polsky. She went up¬ his holiday scheme. stairs—invited to the feast of a family who After dinner at Blochstein’s — which lived in a rear room on Philip’s floor. seemed the safest bet—Philip became con¬ It was during the progress of this feast vinced, as he sauntered down the street, that the widow’s two small children, whom that Ludlow was in the throes of celebration she believed fast asleep in her room near by, and was striving to make merry. He had ferreted out such attractive playthings as sensed this before. a box of matches and a can of kerosene. In fact, the Ghetto was observing Succoth Philip was aroused by childish screams —the harvest feast, or “ Feast of Taber¬ and the acrid smell of smoke. He sprang nacles.” And the droning, humming sounds into a few garments, and rushed into the that he heard come from hallways were hall—already thronged with frantic men, the chant of rabbles, and cantors; mingled women, and children, tumbling over one an¬ with the responses and shouts of the holi¬ other like sheep. day-makers. As fires in this district go, it was a .trivial He passed through the hallway of his own blaze. Engine No. 17 came clanging down tenement, and discovered in the rear court from near Delancey, almost as soon as a bower constructed of lattice, interwined Philip had remedied the Russians’ over¬ with twigs and artificial greens and over¬ sight and turned in the alarm. The assist¬ laid with boughs. In and about this ing companies arrived with their accustomed “ booth ” men and women were singing, promptness. And the fire was got under dancing, drinking wine, eating cakes. The control and subdued, with no more damage fitful flare of gasoline torches illuminated than the gutting of the rear rooms on several the scene weirdly. floors. The incident brought to Philip, Philip, with an artist’s appreciation, no¬ however, an experience out of which grew ticed particularly among the dancers two far-reaching consequences. girls who never lacked for partners or for At some little risk to himself, he dragged a circle of male admirers. One—whom he fair Becky Levinsky from the suffocating was to know better as Becky Levinsky— smoke—and then the comely Rachel, who was sturdy, plump, ample of body and opu¬ boarded with the Levinskys—and carried lent of charms. The other, Rachel Inkel- them, singly of course, down the stairs to witz, whom he was to know as intimately— the hallway below. carried her height and slenderness with the On the way down, each young woman poise and sinuous grace of the Oriental girl revived sufficiently to study the pleasing whose head bears the pitcher from the well. countenance of her curly-haired gallant— She sparkled with vivacity. but, mum of remonstrance and without the Even the interest of this spectacle could slightest inclination to “ slam de face o’ not ward off the drowsiness induced by dis fresh guy,” each was content to be borne his strenuous day’s house-cleaning. Philip in this romantic manner until deposited in presently retired to his room, and soon was a place of safety. slumbering soundly on the floor—in a nest “ Gawd! Ain’t he handsome! ” were the of big red pillows stuffed with goose-down, first words from Becky’s provocative lips. which he had bought at the pillow-shop. Rachel said-nothing, but her great, dark Soon, also, the party in the court dis¬ eyes spoke volumes as they followed the banded. The celebration was to be con¬ “ poor young artist ” who was running back tinued indoors—not only because of the bit¬ into the smoke. ing winds of this late September night. A IV. special feast was scheduled for the evening; during which the head of each family would Becky’s “ old man ” kept the poultry- whirl a live fowl round and round, then shop — its window embellished with a 216 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. painted goose and a chicken, bill to bill in out. I ain’t goin’ tuh have no lounge-lizard ardent conversation; and exhibiting, inside, sloppin’ over my goil. You tell ’im so— a serried row of frowsy, half-plucked fowl. y’understan’? Or I’ll knock his block off, The plucking was done by Becky herself an’ youm, too.” —when she was not “ under the weather ” Becky jumped lightly to the pavement. or off upon wayward adventures of the “ T’ell yuh will! ” was the clear, cool reply heart. as she swung up the tenement steps. She was at her post this afternoon. Judg¬ The gunman, thus publicly defied and in¬ ing by her frequent interest in the clock, sulted as never before, scowled wolfishly however, she was not likely to remain there after the disappearing girl. For a moment, long. it seemed as though he would follow. Then Presently she left her chair, and, indiffer¬ gathering up the reins and whip, with ent to the wrathful glare shot from beneath vengeful threats, he took it out on the un¬ old Levinsky’s bushy eyebrows, slipped into offending horse. Nevertheless, that sneak¬ her worn ulster. Becky was ready for de¬ ing artist was engraved upon his memory. parture, and said as much. Phil Bradford was absent when Becky The old man said much more, heaping opened his “ studio ” door and entered with¬ curses upon her head for her filial ingrati¬ out knocking. Such formalities are dis¬ tude and indulging in personal references pensed with—perhaps unknown—on lower that finally even stung through Becky’s Ludlow. none-too-tender skin. The artist happened to be outside Mrs. “ Keep yer shoit on,” she advised. Bodansky’s room, standing among a group “ Ain’t I gonna shell out one o’ de two of would-be sympathizers, and trying to plunks I earns dis a’temoon? If yuh wasn’t make a sketch of the dry-eyed young widow so tight, yuh’d hire a boy f’r fifty cents to who sat in dumb misery, her little daughter do de pickin’, and be satisfied wit’ yer profit. tugging wonderingly at her skirts. But hog it all, if yuh wanter, an’ woik yer Her case was peculiarly distressing. Levi fingers tuh de bone—as yuh say. I should Bodansky and his family had emigrated but live so! ” recently from the “ old country ” to this With this parting comment, she slouched land of promise. His New York employer out of the shop and promptly unburdened —a former fellow townsman—had taken her mind of the parent’s grievance. advantage of the newcomer’s ignorance and Zech Samstag espied the familiar figure had repeatedly cheated him of money, until hurrying along the sidewalk of lower Lud¬ Levi had despaired of making ends meet. A low Street. Shifting his quid to the other stranger and exceptionally reticent, he had cheek, he lashed with unsparing vigor the learned of no Legal Aid Society or Jewish emaciated animal struggling with the heavy Relief Fund. wagon-load of pickle kegs. So, with his family slowly starving, Levi “Hey, Becky!” he yelled—then, growl¬ had slipped quietly from the room this ing, as the girl halted: “ Wot’s all yer morning after prayers. The tallith still cov¬ rush?” ered his shoulders; the praying-band was Becky scrambled to the driver’s seat. clasped upon his forehead, and the tefillin Crossing her nether limbs so that Zech wound about his left arm and wrist. He would have been an extensive and satisfac¬ proceeded to the edge of the roof, prayed tory view of the “ silkene ” hose which had forgiveness from the God of his fathers, been Hennie’s last gift to her, she made then plunged down six dizzy stories. nonchalant response: When Phil had obtained a sketch that “ On me way tuh pose f’r a fine-lookin’ rather pleased him, he returned to his room artist guy wot’s came tuh Ludlow. Dat’s —to find Becky examining the portrait he all.” was making of her. “ Dat’s all?" cried Zech, almost bouncing “ Does look somet’in’ like my mug,” she out of the seat. grunted admiringly. “ Artist, heh? Posin’! Well, yuh cut it “ Not nearly handsome enough for a pip- WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED. 217

pin like you, Becky,” insinuated Phil, in Phil speedily learned that if Becky’s neck’ mock disappointment. was like “ the tower of David, builded for “ Tie de bull outside! Y’oughta gimme a an armory,” her mighty arms were as the real chanst—and make a pitchur o’ me in cedars of Lebanon for strength. me glad rags. I gotta swell charmoose Encompassed by the violence of Becky’s dress, sewed over wit’ beads, artistic. An’ sweet passion—enfolded in her loving but my velveteen tarn wit’ a crushed rose tas¬ crushing embrace, he felt his breath depart sel—oh, boy! Class! Believe me, if I do from him—as though from a suddenly de- say so.” . flated bellows—and his ribs crack in sinister Becky couldn’t see “ the idea ” of this warning. Phil thought he was done for portrait of her in working clothes, plucking when— at a goose, just as she worked—when she “ There’s some one coming!” he gurgled, worked—in her father’s shop. She certain¬ brutally disengaging himself. ly looked “ classierv in her finery—ob¬ The exasperated Becky seized her coat, tained in various and perhaps somewhat flung herself across the room, and opened devious ways, familiar to Ludlow Street. the door upon—Rachel Inkelwitz. Artists were “ queer guys,” though, she ad¬ “Wot yuh buttin’ in here for?” demanded mitted. Becky, voice hoarse with wrath. “ That ’ll come later, Becky dear,” the “ You tell me foist about yer own buttin’ artist consoled, as he transferred bold in!” challenged Rachel. strokes to canvas. “ So dat’s why yer alius late f’r supper,” Temporarily changing the subject, she Becky mused, suddenly enlightened. said in disgust: Angry glances clashed, and angrier words. “ Say, Phil, I meant tuh leave dis ’ere Just when bodily conflict seemed inevitable, goose f’r you to cook up. But de ol’ man the alarmed Philip cleared his throat sten- wants it to-morrer tuh sell. So I’ll take it toriously. Becky hesitated, then proceeded back in de mornin’ and bring yuh a fresher down the hall, leaving behind her a trail one. Mebbe he’ll forget about dat. Penny- of innuendoes, rich and racy—all of which snatchin’ ol’ crab!” had Rachel for their subject. “ Thanks just the same, old dear,” ac¬ Rachel’s eyes were snapping as she en¬ knowledged Phil, coughing slightly while tered. Phil had thoughtfully turned to the he bent over his palette. wall the canvas he had been working on, “ There, I guess we’ve finished for to¬ but the half-plucked goose was in plain day,” he said, some time later. view. Over his shoulder the girl murmured “ Dat’s wot she’s doin’ here—bringin’ ’im critically. “ It ain’t so rotten—though I’m presents!” thought Rachel bitterly. sure some swell in de charmoose! ” She controlled herself with an effort, and The man looked up meditatively into her muttered: “ Guess I’m early to-day, Phil. face. “ You’re swell just as you are, Becky Got off a little sooner.” darling,” he softly flattered. What was it “ I’ll say you’re a mighty decent kid to that the golden-tongued Solomon had sung help me out at all, Rachel,” said Philip —doubtless with some radiant daughter of warmly. No girl made a mint of money, Judea in mind? covering umbrellas at the umbrella-maker’s. And for some reason, Rachel refused pay “ Behold, thou art fair—thine head upon for her posing. He didn’t feel right about it. thee is like Carmel—thy neck is like the The girl stepped behind the screened- tower of David—thine eyes like the pools in Heshbon—thy lips a thread of scarlet—thy off “ dressing-room,” which was one of mouth like the best wine.” “ Phil’s funny ideas,” and shortly reap-. peared as Judith—robes flowing and sword Quoting with fervor to himself, he rose in hand. When she took position on the half-unconsciously toward lips that were a improvised dais, Phil remarked:' generous thread of scarlet, and touched “ Heaps of light left, Rachel; but I’m not them with his own. going to have you miss your supper.” 218 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ Where’s youm?” she asked pointedly, At that, Phil became no more than pleas¬ ignoring the goose. She knew that he antly “ jingled.” His fickle fancy was ■wasn’t selling any pictures. And Phil had Rachel’s one complaint. He flitted about -stopped going out for his meals. like a will-o’-the-wisp. Coolly but gallantly “ Mine?” laughed Phil. “ I’m living he bestowed his acquaintance upon virtu¬ high, old girl! Peek into my bargain re¬ ally every girl in the hall, were she plain frigerator, if you don’t believe it. I wanted or pretty; invariably dragging his latest a little change from Blochstein’s, so I hired captive away from her escort, for a whirl myself as cook. Believe me, Beauty, as a in the dance. Then on to the next—so cook I’ve got something on Oscar.” rapidly and good-humoredly that even the He could have added that, after seeing escorts had no time for offense. the health officer’s cart travel down Lud¬ Rachel—whose reputation as a dangerous low — confiscating rotten fruit, decayed enemy, was well known among the girls— vegetables and putrid meats, his confidence always succeeded in getting Phil back to was somewhat shaken in the food that other her, however; and they finally left the hall, restaurants near by might provide. Be¬ amicably together. sides, his present method was more economi¬ On their way home they came to Lora- cal—and he always had been cook at the loff’s, the .Essex Street “photography camp. studio.” “ Well, if yuh want a change,” carelessly “ Wot d’yuh say, Phil, we get mugged?” said Rachel, who was waiting her chance, the girl proposed craftily. 111 snitched two tickets to de Peczinzner “ Great! Jus’ the souv’nir for th’ ’ca- Ball to-night, wit’ eats; an’ if you wish to sion!” he recklessly agreed, not caring now go, I’d be pleased tuh accept of your es¬ what happened to him. cort. It’s bot’ ‘ full dress and civic ’—you With a merry chuckle, he swung her wouldn’t need dress up.” \ through the gate with the arch of iron “ Now I call that sporting! Sure I’ll go. grillwork, and they raced up the side stairs Just to show you how flush I am, I’ll run to the second-floor studio. right over to the shop that has ‘ wedding- Returning, they had reached the sidewalk dresses and full dress suits to hire ’—and when Rachel stopped short. A young Rus¬ I’ll get a whole soup-and-fish outfit with sian Jew, distinguished by the unorthodox a shiny kelly to go with it! ” cut of his smartly trimmed beard, and a fur- Rachel, who could have hopped about in lined coat with a near-Persian lamb collar, her excitement, felt this was worth several brushed by her—muttering brokenly, ac¬ times what she had paid for the tickets. cusingly, as he passed. How elegant he would look—and what a “ Who’s your swell friend?” lightly in¬ splash they would make! quired the artist. Then noting the man’s And they did make a splurge—Rachel in sorrowful face—his distrait, almost desper¬ her crimson frock and imitation jet ear¬ ate, manner — Phil looked sharply at rings, and Phil looking like the hero out Rachel. He saw that she appeared con¬ of a play. It was whispered freely about fused. the hall, on Essex Street—by young as “ What’s the row?” he demanded. well as by old—that there wasn’t a hand¬ “ Nothin’ much,” she said evenually. somer couple on the floor. And dance— “ It’s Micah Oskolsky, who’s got a high- how they did dance! Phil even attempted class joolry push-cart on Grand Street. a kazatzki, with fair results. Mebbe he’s sore because I turned him down He himself admitted that he was “ right f’r de ball. / should worry!” there ” this evening—“ there ” frequently Phil shot a penetrating glance at the girl. meaning the informal buffet where “ Your steady fella, eh?” “ drinks ” were dispensed, for a considera¬ “ Oh, we’ve had a sort of understandin’ tion. But, as he explained confidentially: an’ so on, and he gimme a bum ring; but— “ Beauty, it’s been a long while between say, look where de poor prune’s goin’!” ‘ good times ’—for me.” Her voice rose angrily. “ Trottin’ wit’ his WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED., 219

sourith (trouble) to Lawyer Pardow, ’stid He rose abstractedly and reached for the o’ cornin’ to me like a man. Dat’s Micah, painting of Becky. His fingers encountered every time! Anyt’ing at all happens, an’ only a stack of sketches and studies. The right away he goes to law. Lotta good it ’ll painting was gone. do him!” While he yet stood frowning, there came She scornfully watched the man disap¬ a rustle at the door. To his surprise the pear into the old frame building, on the visitor proved to be Becky herself; brave second floor of which was plainly visible as to attire, featuring the inevitable “ char- from the street an extensive and imposing moose,” and otherwise agitated. law library, its book-shelves brilliantly She bore a large, flat parcel. When she illuminated, by many electric lights which had burst open its wrappings, the missing the attorney kept focused ingeniously. canvas was disclosed. The artist quickly sobered, remarking in “ Dat fresh guy, Zech Samstag, cops it,” a serious tone: she explained in a fury. “ We was havin’ a “ Sorry I didn’t know about Micah. We drink over tuh Klotz’s, an’ he owns up he’d haven’t been playing exactly square with been here tuh see you about somet’in’. him, do you think? Now, you two had You was out, and he swipes de pitchur in¬ better make up; perhaps he’ll forget your stead. Get de noive?” turn-down to-night.” “ Who is Zech Samstag, and why did he “ Much I care whether he does or don’t! take the painting?” —rebelliously. “ I ain’t tied to ’im fer life. Becky tossed her head, explaining with Dey’s others ”—long lashes swiftly veiled a shrug and a sneer: “ Zech’s my ole fella. her dark eyes—“ wot I t’inks more of.” Gets on ’is ear—cops de pitchur jes’ be¬ In silent disapproval Phil gave the girl cause I was posin’ for it! Right along he’s his arm, and they turned west toward Lud¬ been bawlin’ me out for posin’; says goils low. She, too, after pouting, grew taciturn, don’t pose for no good—only tuh be made sullen; but brightened and clung more love to an’ so on. tightly to him as they entered the black- “ I says he’s a liar—your jollyin’ and shadowed hallway of the tenement. kissin’ bein’ none o’ his business.” “ Much obliged to you for the bully eve¬ Philip gnawed nervously at his lip, at ning, Rachel. See you to-morrow.” Gently last deciding: loosening her arm Phil nodded to her kind¬ “ I think we’d better call off the posing, ly, stepped to his door, and passed within. Becky.” For a while the girl stood dumbly, staring “But I wanta pose, Phil!” she cried, unbelievingly at the door that had closed puzzled. “ Wot’s dat mashuka Zech got after him. Then, staggering against the tuh do wit’ it? I’m done wit’ him.” wall, her back to the unyielding surface, “ Have it your own way, then,” was the she drew her tense, quivering body to its short reply. full height, arms outstretched and clenched “ What could I want wit’ Zech?” mur¬ hands pressed hard against the plaster, mured the charmer, as, dismissing the un¬ breasts heaving, head flung back. And she pleasant topic, she leaned invitingly toward panted with a wild, bitter, passionate anger: Phil. “ He left me—left me wit’out even a He turned away crossly. “ You’d better single kiss—damn him!” run along home, Becky,” he said. Beautiful as a moon over the gardens of In some way the girl found herself in the Cedron; cunning, in many ways, as a ser¬ hall, wondering how and why she had got pent; strong and implacable as Judith, there. -Arms truculently akimbo, she daughter of battle, Rachel Inkelwitz was gasped explosively but futilely: not accustomed to be scorned! “ Now, wouldn’t dat make yer hair curl? Philip, after lighting the gas-lamp, sat Ain’t ’e got sense enough tuh see where ’e down thoughtfully before his easel with its stands wit’ me? Why didn’t I take de ex¬ half-finished painting of “ Judith,” fierce, asperatin’ snip ’cross my knee an’ spank burning eyes searching into his. ’im or choke ’im?” 220 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

The disgruntled Amazon tried to reason could begin a vociferous pleading to go, too. it out, starting with the premise that Phil Despite his courage in taking in little Joey might be jealous of Zech. But—the argu¬ Seigel, it is doubtful if Philip could have ment being beyond her realm of elemental managed without the aid of the unwilling facts and primitive impulses—she was Becky—or of Rachel. obliged to give it up. Anyway you looked at Joey’s mother, who had lived on the same it, it didn’t seem possible that a “ live guy ” floor, had been doing finely, the “ prac¬ like Phil could be also such a “ boob ”1 tical ” midwife claimed, until some boob Rotten luck, too! For she could almost blabbed out the news that Mr. Seigel (in a taste that kiss he hadn’t given her. hurry to get home) had fallen off the scaf¬ folding, where he had been painting a dead- IV. wall sign for “ Klinger’s Klassy Klothes.” Upon the floor of the only oasis of He broke his neck. Mrs. Seigel died in brightness and cleanliness in forlorn, ill- convulsions, and four-year-old Joey was left favored lower Ludlow Street knelt a likable an orphan. Fortunately, perhaps, Joey’s young man, his brow a thunder-cloud, a promised brother had been still-born. laughing twinkle in his eye. Becky impatiently insinuated the young¬ In front of him pranced a child, who ster into hfs fine clothes, muttering the seemed out of place in Ludlow. while her usual complaint: “ Damn kid! “ Now, stand still, Joey, you little rascal, Dat’s all Phil t’inks about. Pity he couldn’t or I won’t draw you any more teddy- fin’ somet’in’ better to do dan feed ’n’ fuss bears,” the man scolded for perhaps the over somebody else’s brat!” seventh time. After straightening up the room—Phil Like most artists, Phil Bradford was not was such a “ pa’tickler guy ”—and throw¬ lacking in manual dexterity, and the snaps ing Joey bis toy soldiers to keep him quiet, on the little undergarments seemed absurd¬ she listlessly crossed the studio and sat by ly simple, if only the youngster wouldn’t the window. squirm so. The girl had changed lately. Her high He glanced up from his task, to see spirits, her boisterous jollity—which once buxom Becky Levinsky looking in, sourly, had set her apart from most of the girls of from the doorway. the tenements—gradually had faded into a She and Rachel had this habit of bobbing morbid brooding; and Ludlow Street, into the studio with irritating frequency. grimly chuckling, now recognized her as And their comportment was at times dis¬ one of its own. So, too, it had been with turbing. Rachel Inkelwitz. “ Good morning, Becky. How’s the An older woman, shapeless, careworn, mother?” he inquired in a decidedly con¬ timorously shuffled into the room. Becky ventional tone. twisted abruptly, as one whose nerves are “ Mom’s gettin’ on ’er feet again,” was on edge; her morose expression became that the disinterested response. “ De ol’ man’s of angry annoyance. raggin’ me tuh come back tuh de shop “ Now wot de devil yuh doin’, mom, outa ’safternoon. bed?” she demanded sharply. “ Yuh seem to be havin’ trouble, Phil,” “ How could I be peaceful with thee in she added with faint sarcasm. here?” bitterly quavered the older woman Philip snorted good-naturedly. Then— in her native tongue. Her breath came in so long as the girl was here: uneven jerks. “ Be a good Samaritan, Becky, and finish “ What d’ yuh mean—‘ in here ’?” dressing this little eel. Then take him in The mother looked accusingly out of sor¬ with you for a while, will you? I want to row-stricken eyes, as she said with painful go over toward the Bowery for that Christ¬ slowness: mas tree. Joey’s had his breakfast.” “ You know; what all say he keeps this She came in somewhat reluctantly, while place for. And art not thou and Rachel Philip bustled into his overcoat before Joey and this man the talk of Ludlow Street?” WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED. 221

“ Much Ludlow knows about his busi¬ tion, but which apparently had not slipped ness! And yuh don’t see any of ’em hold- Rachel’s memory. “ She ain’t got no more in’ it against ’im, do yuh? It’s ‘ Phil Brad¬ right to it dan me; an’ Gawd knows I ford dis,’ and ‘ Phil Bradford dat ’—alius ain’t! callin’ on ’im f’r help or advice. Got deir “ Oh, can it, mom!” as the parent broke doity hands in ’is pockets all de time. D’ out afresh. Seizing her by the shoulder, yuh know ’is latest? Becky bundled her out of the room, yank¬ “ Strunsky, de cobbler, wot lives wit’ his ing Joey along. fam’ly out in de hall underneat’ de stairs, Joey’s Christmas party began, on the gets sick. Wot does Phil do but make a morrow, with his terrified flight from the drawrin’ of deir coop—which he ’as no use tree—Christmas trees being a very great for nohow—and pays ’em ten beans f’r de rarity in Ludlow. What with Phil’s activ¬ privilege! Jes’ one sample!” ities as the strange, new “ Santa Claus In a less ruffled tone she observed: “ For who distributed numerous gifts to the tene¬ me, dey c’n keep dere kin’ woids. Let ’em ment children—and the prolonging of the talk.” Then, with cruel enjoyment of the Christmas tree party for the better part of effect produced: “ Wot would yuh t’ink if a week, it was not until early on New I says I wished tuh Gawd it was all true?” Year’s Eve that he found an hour for work. “ Oi; oi! That I should bear me such a This hour he spent in assorting his sketches daughter! Thou wilt bring me to my and canvases. grave!” wailed the horrified parent. Out Then, consulting his watch and entrust¬ of her lamentations rose the mournful com¬ ing Joey to the Levinskys, Philip hastened plaint: up Ludlow Street. “ It was not so in the old country. There As he paused at Hester Street for a word a father could rule his house, and bring up with the humble street vendor of fish, who his children in the ways of righteousness. withdrew benumbed hands from above his Here, how can he watch and keep a family, pail of glowing coals to wave the genial where thousands and tens of thousands all Phil Bradford a greeting, a shadow crept live together like the cattle? How can from the concrete, tunnel-like “ family en¬ there be virtue? trance ” of Klotz’s saloon. It resolved it¬ “ Yet it is not enough that our sons and self into Zech Samstag, gliding forward in daughters should sin among themselves. A the direction that Philip had taken. schaigotz—one not of our faith—must Folk who had seen Philip pass now come to tempt them!” quaked with dread at the sight of the no¬ The girl surveyed her mother disgustedly. torious gangster, so obviously upon the trail “ Well, wot if Phil ain’t a Jeheudah? of his “ rival.” They noticed, or so it Can’t he live anywhere he wants? This seemed to their frightened eyes—that the ain’t Rooshia—this is Noo Yawk. Come gunman-’s fingers kept stealing repeatedly up to date, mom. toward his hip. “ An’ temptin’? Say, yer talkin’ troo With the gunman in pursuit, Philip yer sheitel (wig)! I ain’t no saint. It’s moved on to respond briefly to the cordial Phil wot’s got de col’ feet.” salutation of the important grocer, whose Sniveling and shaking her head, the old open sacks of grains, cereals, and curious woman murmured plaintively: “ I do not seeds covered half the sidewalk space out¬ know what evil spell hath come over thee, side his store. From this point the artist Becky.” hurried at a good, round pace, shortly turn¬ “ Dis is one t’ing wot’s de matter wit’ ing in at Grand Lyceum Hall. me: Yuh gotta get Rachel Inkelwitz out, Zech’s plans apparently frustrated for or somet’in’s gonna happen! I’m sick o’ the time, he stalked’into Roller’s for com¬ her shmoosin’ over Phil an’ dat kid. Jes’ fort, while Phil Bradford busied himself to-day I fin’s in her room a pitchur of her within the hall, where he was to address a an’ Phil ”—referring to the pose at Loral- mass meeting held to enforce action upon off’s studio, of which Phil had lost recollec¬ improvements desperately needed in some 222 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

of Ludlow’s tenements. A Yiddish news¬ handle to you, and now, she’s all broken up paper editor would translate Mr. Brad¬ for fear she’s caused you to do something ford’s speech for the benefit of all. What¬ rash.” ever opinion Ludlow Street might hold of “ I’m sorry about that—mighty sorry,” Phil Bradford’s studio, it had learned to ad¬ confessed Raridan. “ To tell you the truth, mire his shrewd common sense and respect I thought it was all off between us. Didn’t his superior wisdom in other matters. think she cared. She said things that By one of those coincidences that hap¬ punched my self-complacency full of holes. pen in the worst, as well as in the best, More than hinted I was something of a regulated streets, Tom Travis happened at rotter. And the deuce of it is, I discovered Bus time to be paying a consolatory New she was right. I’ve been trying to find my¬ Year’s Eve visit to his friend, Bill Rawley. self in my work here, Tom.” Address: Ludlow Jail. Travis turned in curiosity to the nearest When Tom had torn himself away from stack of sketches and canvases indicated, Bill and Bill’s lugubrious retrospection, he then proceeded to examine them swifffy but paused outside Ludlow Jail to light his earnestly. He grimaced dryly at a scene of cigarette. While fumbling for a match, he the curb apple-market, exaggerating its chanced to look across the street—and for¬ grotesqueries and the avarice of the bar¬ got his cigarette entirely. gainers. This expression held as he That certainly could not be the-always- thumbed other studies, done with the same immaculately dressed Teddy-Bear? But trenchant, ironic humor. by jingo! he believed it was! As Lou “ Still a caricaturist, eh?” he pronounced Raridan’s old chum and Carol’s cousin, it frankly. “ Clever, too.” behooved him to find out more. He fol¬ “ That lot represents my earliest work; lowed oil foot, after directing the chauffeur discarded ’em all this evening. Try this of his taxicab to keep him in sight, and other pile,” Raridan advised. drive slowly along behind. He labored to conceal his anxiety during There was still another member of .the Travis’s examination of the work. His procession—a tough who had appeared friend’s verdict meant more to him than he from Roller’s saloon, and who seemed as dared admit. Travis was an artist who eager as was Travis to catch up to Brad¬ knew. ford. The visitor’s brows were knotted with in¬ Philip already had laid the sleeping Joey credulity. “ Impossible! Why, there’s on his bed behind the screen. He barely sincerity here — and idealization!” 'he had started pulling on his pipe when there breathed, unconscious of Raridan’s pain¬ came a courteous knock at the door. This fully rapt attention. At length, reaching a in itself was unusual enough to cause Philip canvas upon which the paint was scarcely to wonder. dry, he gazed at it in open admiration. “ Lou Raridan turned a bloomin’ hermit! He held it up for another inspection—a Great thunder, man, what fool stunt are sympathetic, almost reverent portrayal of you up to now?” cried Travis, still pumping patriarchal Grandfather Levinsky lighting the other’s arm. the eighth floating wick of the oil cruse, on • “ You knew I’d left Ludlow’s most im¬ the last day of Chanuca, “ the Feast of posing residence,” said Raridan with an un¬ Lights.” easy laugh. “ Well, I’d rather a scene with “ You are coming along as a painter, Carol, and needed a vacation, anyway.” Lou,” at last he commented. “ My con¬ “ Vacation! ” the other exclaimed indig¬ gratulations!” And Travis scrutinized his nantly. “ That didn’t give you the right to friend with a new, puzzled interest. go into hiding like a crook that’s wanted. Raridan made no effort to hide his ela- How do you think we’ve all felt about your , tion. “ Lord, but I have worked hard at it, disappearance—and what about Carol? though, Tom! Done nothing else, day or “ I tell you, man, it’s hit her hard. She’s night, save a few pen-and-inks for the admitted she said some things off the funny mags.” WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED. 223

“ Hello, what’s this?” exclaimed Travis, “ Mistake, hell! Ain’t dat Becky who, roving about, had found two other Levinsky’s pitchur right Sere ”—pointing canvases. He brought them under the to the canvas near the easel—“ an’ didn’t light. They were “ Judith ” and “ The he get her tuh pose—yeh, pose f’r ’im? Goose-Plucker.” She posed, all right; an’ after dat told me “ Good work. Damn pretty models you tuh go tuh de devil! Mistake? Ast ’im must have had, too. Who are they?” yerself!” Feeling rather uncomfortable, yet assum¬ Travis looked critically at Raridan, ing an air of calm detachment, Raridan ex¬ whose discomfited eyes sought the floor, as plained: “Only a couple of girls in the he muttered: “ It was only a little piffle.” tenement here. That’s the way with many “ Yeh, piffle f’r you!” wound up the vol¬ of them—dazzling beauties at twenty; hags ley of oaths.' “ But wot about de guy wot at thirty.” loses out? Me! Mebbe I c’n go tuh de The other continued his study of the devil, like she says; but dey’s some one else canvases, while Raridan’s embarrassment goin’, too!” The half-crazed fellow ad¬ grew. Finally laying them aside, Travis vanced a step, his purpose evident and said with unmistakable firmness: deadly. “ Now, Lou, you’re coming out of this Travis’s cane described a quick arc, end¬ ghastly hole. We won’t stand for this sort ing abruptly with a smart crack, and the of idiocy. Keep up your painting—you’ve “ gun ” clattered to the floor. The enraged arrived. Have a studio, here, if you insist; tough rushed at him. Followed a sharp but we’ll expect to see you lodged at the mix-up, terminated by Travis giving his ad¬ club to-morrow. And, for the love of versary a lucky shove that sent him reeling Moses, look up Carol without wasting a over the threshold into the hall. Travis minute. You never mean harm, but some¬ slammed the door shut, then listened, pres¬ times, old man, you are the limit! ” ently hearing the gangster’s feet padding Raridan, eyes lowered, fingered awk¬ down the stairs. wardly at his pipe. After a moment he He turned with angry irritation upon muttered doggedly: Raridan. “ I can’t come back, Tom; I’m not sure “ You’ve got yourself in a pretty mess— of myself yet. Tell Carol so, please. My with your ‘ girls of the tenement,’ and your work’s here. I must stick with it until I’ve ‘ piffling,’ and whatever other fool mischief accomplished something. I—somehow—I you’ve included in your ‘ work ’ here! ” can’t explain, Tom.” Raridan, who had been standing in a “ Nonsense, man, you must—” began daze, too heavily borne down by humilia¬ Travis’s rush of violent protestations, which tion to move hand or foot, now mumbled ceased as suddenly. defensively: “ That chap was all wrohg, At the open door stood a rougK-looking Tom. I know I’ve made a fool of myself, individual, in whose hand, shaking danger¬ but not to that extent. I’m ready to stand ously with emotion, glittered a leveled re¬ up to him or anybody else to clear myself volver. It was Zech Samstag, and he obvi¬ and the girls.” ously meant business. “ Come on, you fathead! Beat it from “ I ain’t got nottin’ on you ”—designat¬ here as quick as you know how! Don’t ing Travis—“ so keep yer mout’ shut, if yer you know you’d have that tough and his wise.” pals on your neck before you’d ever have a “ What have you got on Mr. Raridan?” chance to explain. You’re through here. coolly inquired Travis. “ Take these ’’—Travis thrust the paint¬ “ ‘ Raridan,’ yer eye! I’m after Phil ings of “ Judith ” and “ The Goose- Bradford—dat stinkin’ bird dere wot calls Plucker ” into Raridan’s hands—“ and hisself an artist. No guy c’n come be¬ gather together whatever luggage you want tween me an’ my goil and get away wit’ it.” to take. I’ve a taxi waiting down below.” “ Aren’t you mistaken, brother?” Travis They made several trips to the cab. pursued. While Raridan was packing below, his 224 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. friend ran up-stairs for another load. He satisfactory disposing of his rival, even was stooping «to pick up an armful of though it lacked certain dramatic elements sketches when he heard the whimper of a of a just vengeance. child; and Joey—awakened by the noise, So, flourishing the new gun he had gone but' up to now huddled in a terrified ball out to obtain, Zech Samstag stalked in to beneath the covers—crept from his bed be¬ gloat. hind the screen. Becky concentrated her attention more “ What next?” hollowly groaned Travis and more closely upon the gun. As she when he found utterance possible. looked die straightened out of her slump He did not even bother to question Lou and stiffened perceptibly. Raridan, who, coming in, bundled up the “ Wot yuh doin’ wit’ de gat?” she de¬ child and his toys and clothes, comforting manded. Then, prompted by intuition: the youngster in the following asinine “ Where’s Phil?” nursery patter: The calmness of Becky’s tone was mis¬ “ Joey, you’re going to take a ride with leading; although, for that matter, Zech Uncle Phil to our nice new home. Say by¬ never had considered the feelings of bye to Ludlow! ” “ skoits.” Just now it pleased him to play V. the part of a hero, assuming laurels that would add greatly to his prestige in Ludlow Becky had arrived at that point where Street. Twirling his gun with a careless she either must have it out with Phil or do significance, he bragged: something desperate—something for which “ Last 1 seen o’ de models’ fa-vo-rite, he she and perhaps others might be sorry. an’ de kid was beatin’ it down de street f’r Therefore she doubtless felt that the pres¬ anudder part o’ town. Didn’t even stop to ent moment was as propitious as any. say fare-thee-well, ’e didn’t!” Her exit and passage along the hall to No hero could have wished for a more Phil’s studio were marked by Rachel Inkel- responsive audience, or have committed so witz, who seemed all the more ill-pleased grievous an error of judgment. because she herself had been contemplating But the gangster was no more surprised some such visit. at what shortly happened than was little Becky found the door open, took a step Abie Feigenbaum, who had halted by the inside, and immediately froze to the spot. banisters outside, as an interested spectator. Her head revolved—at first slowly, then Abie, whose ambition was to grow ,up a quickly—around most of the points of the gunman like Zech, had just come in from compass, while her eyes grew big and pitching pennies and drinking beer in round—and, yes, scared. Then she ran to Klotz’s court. However, he still was able the lamp, still dimly burning, and turned to see clearly all that went on. up the wick. For a brief, strutting moment Zech was It was true—Phil had gone! He had permitted to wear his laurels. taken only his art work and Joey’s belong¬ He next was conscious that, somehow, his ings; but, beyond question, he had gone. gun had been wrested from him (otherwise So inconceivable, so impossible, it was there might have been a different story to that Becky simply collapsed into the easy- tell), and that the girl was shouting in his chair. ear: There she sat befuddled, trying vainly to “ You pulled a gun on Phil Bradford and piece together her shattered world, when in chased ’im! You gutter-snipin’, thievin’, the doorway appeared, deliberately and moiderin’ crook—you!” continued by a re¬ cautiously, Zech Samstag’s face. markably well-sustained string of expletives Unwinkingly it gazed, and evilly grinned, and lively metaphor. Nor did that end it. like the wicked relative of a Cheshire cat. Without further delay Becky grasped the And it saw, as Becky had seen, that the gunman by the neck and banged his head artist had passed out of Ludlow Street. against the wall untjl the plaster came rat¬ All of which, Zech confessed, was a fairly tling down. Then she slammed him to the WHEN LUDLOW STREET LAUGHED. 225

floor, jumping with both feet upon his face. the low-pitched, close-clipped, deadly warn¬ Still not pausing for breath she took him in ing: her capable hands and proceeded to mop “ You! Git—outa—here—and—stay— up the room with him. out. If I ever see yuh in Ludlow again— Subsequently Rachel Inkelwitz found her I’ll—rip—yer—fishy—eyes—out! ” kneeling on the gunman’s chest, actively She turned and walked from the room. plying her fists and nails upon his counten¬ Horrified gurglings were bubbling from ance, now mauled and tom astonishingly. that which served Zech for mouth, as Becky “ Who is he and wot’s de trouble?” in¬ reached down, gripped the mutilated quired Rachel, who had been drawn to the wretch, and dragged him to the stairway, studio by something stronger than idle curi¬ down which she tossed him With no more osity. compunction than, in saner mind, she would “Oh, dey ain’t no trouble!” panted have shoved out the dirt at cleaning-time, Becky. “ Dis doity crook, Zech Samstag, before Passover. jes’ runs Phil outa Ludlow wit’ a gun— The excited Abie closely followed. Leap¬ dat’s all!” Lurching upright, she threw ing over the prostrate form, he ran out back her head in the wild laughter of eagerly to herald the astounding news. hysteria. Then, north and south through Ludlow, Rachel stared as though she had not this almost incredible report seeped. Back heard, except that she seemed gradually and forth—from curb, stoop, fire-escape— hardening to a curious immobility. Then the story was softly bandied, until old men her gaze began to travel deliberately about were croaking their delight, old women the room, eyes slowly, very slowly, narrow¬ clucking in quiet ecstasies of derision. ing until only the pupils were visible—two The entire street shrugging with ironic small points of eyes that were black and chuckles that were none the less enjoyable strangely glossy, and as chilling as a ser¬ for that they were voiced scarcely a vibra¬ pent’s. tion above silence. These she presently fixed upon what What a joke! That a redoubtable gang¬ should have been the gangster’s face—now ster and gunman, the terror of Ludlow but a raw and bloody ooze. On its surface, Street, should have been beaten up, driven apparently, floated a pair of buttons or from the street (for he never returned)— periwinkles, out of which Zech Samstag and by girls l goggled in terror at Rachel. Not all of Ludlow’s eventful past had The chilling black points kept the bob¬ yielded such a delectable, satisfying treat. bing periwinkles transfixed, the while What a joke! through Rachel’s scarcely parted lips issued So, Ludlow laughed. (The I

RIPPLES

rT*HE happy breeze comes dancing down, 1 In romp and laughter playing; And babbling brooks in shady nooks Unto my heart are saying:

“ Though summer hath her churlish clouds, The daffodils keep swaying; And autumn shines and drips her wines, Though men are through with haying.

“ All life is youth, and youth is love, And shall know no decaying; Weep not above a buried love, For after snow conies Maying.” Herbert Randall, 4 Argosy I. surprises; anything might be expected to happen. In proof of which he surprised AN atmosphere of adventure, as well even himself: he turned aside into the Gol- /A as of riches, is wont to pervade conda rooming and eating-house. mushroom cities. From the discov¬ If he had known nothing of the Golcon- ery of vast mineral resources in some da there would have been no cause for sur¬ scraggy hills, a little somnolent, arbora¬ prise; but in chapel and church he had ceous village finds itself famous overnight often held forth in mild invective against and begins to make strides after its more the place. Of all shady places in Nebo prosperous neighbors. Sons and grand¬ City, the Golconda was a shade the shadi¬ sons of men who crossed the Rockies in est. Men had been known to go in sober 1849; men who blazed the trail into the and come out like proverbial lords. Up¬ Klondike; scions of middle Europe and stairs, chips passed and bones rattled at eastern Asia, to say nothing of ancient all hours of the night, and twice men had Palestine, are suddenly seen on its streets. been found dead in its halls—from loss of The mines and factories are only part blood. And the girls who danced attend¬ of its attractions. Wherever there is money ance on the restaurant tables were as saucy there must be schemes for extracting it as they were nimble and pretty. from its unhappy owners; and with the What would Aunt Agatha, of Pembroke, first blast of mills and factories come Massachusetts, say—if she could see him dance-halls, pool-rooms, a race-track, now? Or old Miss Pemberton, his god¬ places for eating and drinking. The phe- mother and lifelong mentor? nix of romance flies overhead with flam¬ He sat down at a corner table and a girl ing wings; mystery stalks with every man; came to take his order. Without stopping love—not always idyllic and modeled after to analyze the girl or his own emotions, he copy-book maxims—walks in the shadows was sinfully pleased at the turn things were of unmade fortunes. taking. Through such an atmosphere Professor • “ Order, please?” Julius Laidlaw, meditative and spectacled, “ Oh-ah, coffee and pie. Mince,” he strolled down Main Street of Nebo City, added. which was “ destined to become the min¬ While the girl was away he stealthily eral and oil center of the South.” With¬ took in the details of the room. Six wait¬ out knowing it, Professor Julius (aged resses of varying types and sizes hovered twenty-four) was subtly infected by its around the counters and tables. The few spirit—or was it the spirit of dogwood diners were quiet and orderly. He glanced blossoms and the first call of mating birds? with a thrill of unwarranted awe at the The town was teeming with incipient stairway leading to the mysterious rooms BREAKING LOOSE. 227 above, and was rewarded by nothing more their own language and went to take their awe-inspiring than the sight of a fat man orders. Julius was painfully surprised to trudging heavily down for his dinner. A see her pat one's shoulder, while the other, player-piano above tinkled a very respect¬ shaking hands, held on to her fingers sev¬ able tune. The whole place seemed quiet, eral seconds longer than was necessary. even respectable. Julius was almost disillusioned. But be¬ The7 girl returned with his coffee and fore he had consumed his second cut of pie pie. she was with him again, chattering and “ Anything else?” laughing and looking into his eyes. He answered negatively with thanks; He carried her smile with him into the still the girl remained. It was a custom street. His knowledge of women was lim¬ at the Golconda for waitresses to talk to ited to one class—Aunt Agathas and po¬ patrons during lulls in business. tential Aunt Agathas. In common with “My!” she exclaimed. “What a pile his sex he had the habit of card-indexijig of books!” women either as good or bad.. He reflected^ “ Text-books,” he said deprecatingly. sorrowfully on Marge’s slang, and regret¬ “ Greek and Latin. I’m instructor in an¬ ted to have found her working at a place cient languages at the academy.” like the Golconda. Too bad. She was “Oh!” such a pretty, tantalizing little creature, “ I just finished college last year, and too. when my uncle came down here as presi¬ He walked leisurely. It was a big, vel¬ dent of the Acme Refractories Company, vety, starry night, but even more enchant¬ I saw my chance. I’m from Massachusetts, ing than the whispers and allurements of you know. Pembroke.” spring were the voices and lights of the ris¬ “Oh!” ing city. He was possessed with a feeling She crossed her arms over the back of of pride. Out on the hills to the east mul¬ her chair and smiled down on him, show¬ titudes of coke-ovens, with fires that were ing the'"prettiest row of teeth that it was never quenched, gleamed through the dark- ever Julius’s good fortune to see. The Vness; and flames from the rolling-mill light¬ smile itself wasn’t half bad. Then, in the ed up the countryside for miles. The absence of music, she proceeded with the rhythmic chug of engines and the clang of entertainment. hammers were in the air, as they would be What she said would make poor read¬ all night; and within a bow-shot two dances ing-matter. It was plentifully spiced with and a skating-rink were in full swing. The slang, and showed a fine disregard for dic¬ dances were so near each other that the tionaries and grammars; but it was warm music mingled on the street in discordant and piquant and personal, and in less than noises. two minutes Julius was beginning to feel It might be questioned that the harsh that he had known her a lifetime. Her whir of mills and factories, jazz music and name, he learned, was Margaret Strange dances, could suggest romance even re¬ (but everybody called her Marge) and she motely to one of Julius Roundtree Laid- would call him Julius—he was entirely too law’s birth and training. But where men young and decent-looking to be called pro¬ spoke casually of fortunes made overnight, fessor. and won or lost thousands with the stroke “ A fine, unspoiled girl,” mused Julius. of a pen, the imagination was prepared for “ A little careless and given to colloquial¬ all things. isms. But naive and good-hearted and—” Julius was not avaricious, but he had an But just then his grain of faith was rude¬ honest man’s respect for money. All his ly crushed. Two young men entered and life he had lived on the prosaic common called hilariously: ground between poverty and competence. “ Hello, kid.” When he came South he invested his mea¬ Instead of crushing the revelers with dis¬ ger patrimony of two thousand dollars in dainful silence, Marge answered them in the Acme Refractories Company, of which 228 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

his uncle was president. The ganister was After that he called again and then plentiful and of superior quality; there was again. Gradually shadows of suspicion be¬ a demand for silica brick, and the stock gan to haunt his thoughts. Marge frankly began to soar. liked hand-holding and “ spooning.” She Encouraged by his success, he then called a spade a spade, and to his sensitive bought two vacant lots, on which he paid ears her ruthless murder of English savored in monthly instalments. They came high, of a flippant disregard for the seventh but already he had been offered twice the commandment. He had heard of women purchase price. In the course of time they who were false to their sweethearts—even would enhance in value a thousand—ten false to their husbands. thousand per cent! Was she naive and indiscreet, or subtle Small wonder, then, that he gazed and—wicked? She had had other men through the beauties of a star-lit spring- friends; and sometimes, even in his most night at the flamboyant works of man. In blissful moments, he began to wonder an¬ a few years he would be rich. Of a stid- grily which of them had held her hand be¬ , den it came to him that he was young; fore him. The woman he loved enough to that all life was before him. The thought marry must be as good as his mother. was new, for until that hour he had never He began to take her poems and stories really felt the spirit of youth. of an uplifting nature; sometimes he in¬ “ What does it matter,”'he reflected, in¬ sinuated them into his talk. But obviously toxicated with future success, “ whether Marge was not interested in ethics. Her she’s exactly an angel or not? I suppose code was to have a good time, stand by her —perhaps Aunt Agatha was right when pals, love friends and hate enemies. That she said I had a whole lot of Great-grand¬ it also embraced hating cruelty and injus¬ father Swindell in me, after all.” tice of all kinds argued little to Julius’s He called at the restaurant again, and inflexible New England conscience. later at No. 7 Courland Street, where After a few weeks of this he came to his Marge lived with her mother. senses and abused himself for his lack of He never forgot that first evening, when self-respect. Of course the mad infatua¬ they walked home from the restaurant. tion would soon wear off. What was there While Marge removed her hat and went in the girl to appeal to# him, anyway? into another room to speak to her mother, Though she were as pure as Lucretia, the Julius stood and looked at some bric-a- noble victim of Tarquin, still marriage brac and photographs on the mantelpiece. would be beyond the question. A certain There his eyes were arrested by an envel¬ amount of grammar and moderation in ope addressed to Marge in a dashing, mas¬ slang are also requisite to a happy union. culine handwriting, and there he felt his Marriage with her would certainly blight first jealous pang. He was about to pick his career. it up and examine the postmark when Accordingly he terminated the “ little Marge reentered. affair ” as speedily as it had begun. One They sat together on the faded velvet evening he left her with the intention of sofa, and what they talked has no special going back no more, and, being of a strong significance. Perhaps Julius discussed a will, he kept his resolution a week. When book—which was about all he knew to dis¬ he returned his madness increased ten-fold. cuss; perhaps they talked of love, friend¬ Absence had only whetted the edge of his ship, and kindred subjects. Marge always folly. did, in the opening stages of her romantic Just how it happened, Julius could never friendships. explain; but Aunt Agatha’s evil prophe¬ It is significant, however, that Julius cies were fulfilled to the last jot and title. raised his hand, and, being engrossed in The Great-grandfather Swindell in him talk, let it fall on Marge’s hand at his side. came to the surface, and as one in a dream, “ O-oh, I b-beg your pardon,” he stam¬ Julius found himself grasping the girl in mered confusedly. his arms, kissing her again and again. She BREAKING LOOSE. 229

struggled in his grasp, but in the ecstasies time or anofther—light, frivolous things, of the moment he was conscious that her came to him in a new, evil light; ghosts efforts were only half-hearted. of lovers whom he had never seen rose be¬ Quite as surprised as the girl at his bold¬ fore him. ness, he released. her and stepped back, “Enough—too much!” he muttered, smiling. Why, at just that particular mo¬ waving the unwelcome fancies away. “ And ment, he let his eyes wander from her face only to-night I was going to ask her to to seek confusion and despair elsewhere, marry me—fool that I am! Fool that I is one of those unexplained little ironies am! Thank*all the gods, I’ve come to my that abound in life. senses at last!” At any rate, he saw on the brick hearth- He turned aside to his elegant suite of place—two cigarette stubs. rooms in the new Hotel Grande. Disillu¬ \ Mistaking his absorbed interest in the sioned, he was yet determined not to be¬ cigarettes, Marge hastened to put him at come bitter; the world could never say that ease and give him the liberty of the house. his magnanimity had suffered from his per¬ “ Smoke, if you like, Jules; it don’t sonal wrongs. He detached from the wall bother me at all.” a framed photograph, at which he looked Julius never remembered whether he an¬ long and intently. It portrayed the pale, swered her; the memories of that evening patrician features of one Miss Dorothea were always blurred and indistinct. He Bainbridge, as pure and high-minded as might have truthfully told her that he had her family was old and poor. . never smoked nor taken a drink, and that “ If she could only have been like you!” he had kissed only one girl in his life. he apostrophized the picture. “ If Marge Excusing himself on a silly pretext, he could have only been like you!” went out into the street. The presence of With which, disnyssing the foolish little cigarette stubs in Marge’s room could indi¬ affair, he sank into a chair with a volume cate only one of two things: either that of Emerson. As Emerson somehow didn’t Marge smoked, or that some one had been fit into his mood, he picked up “ True Sto¬ there before him. Surely it could not be ries of the East,” ordinarily more interest¬ her mother, whom MArge had always rep¬ ing to his scholastic mind than a swash¬ resented as a devout churchwoman. buckling novel. Then among the fantoms evoked by his Somehow he could not become absorbed jealousy came the thought that he had in reading. The foolish little affair would never seen her mother. Like all other mir¬ not stay dismissed. He recalled that ages of love, he had blindly accepted the Marge had one of his books, and he de¬ fact of her existence on faith. Perhaps cided to send a boy for it immediately. there was no mother, after all;.perhaps That done, there would be no more occa¬ she was only a myth to give an air of re¬ sion to think of her. spectability to Marge’s existence. Stepping out to the front, he looked for After going such lengths of doubt, other a boy, but not one was to he found. Very hidden and forgotten things rose to stare well; he would bring the book himself. him in the face. The very fact of her em¬ Slowly then he turned his feet toward the ployment at the Golconda was incrimina¬ scene of his late folly. He would not ad¬ ting. But why judge the girl from her en¬ mit that this was an excuse to see her again, vironment when her avowed lack of ideals though for the last time; that, as Marge and frank love of pleasure condemned her? would say, he was only “ kiddin’ himself It was not so much the cigarettes along.” But as he approached her rooms, (though Julius hated them as an insidious his heart beat riotously, as from the effects poison) as what they suggested. How¬ of a cross-country run. ever charitable one might be, one would He paused at the rickety gate to straight- have trouble in explaining their presence ea his tie and slick back his hair, but he in her room. A raging jealousy possessed did not enter. He was tremendously sorry his soul. Things that she had said, at one that he had come even that far. If he was 230 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. a fool before, he was now a fool, with two The first thing that caught his eye was the or three strong, substantial adjectives af¬ fair grounds, with the uncompleted race¬ fixed. track. He learned that it was unfinished II. because of lack of funds. All of his old love of horses and racing returned; more¬ Mr. Jack Carter was not of a displeas¬ over, he was visited by an ambition to be¬ ing appearance, though his face was sug¬ come a man of business, even though in a gestive of strength rather than beauty. By small way. way of a more complete introduction— Due to luck rather than skill in play, he which belongs here, if anywhere—he be¬ had two thousand dollars, which he imme¬ gan his last incarnation in Chicago, as a diately invested in the Chickasee County son of poor but dishonest parents. ( Fair Association, Incorporated. Without His father, Jack Carter, Sr., was vari¬ waiting for dividends, he secured a position ously employed as cabman, porter in sa¬ in Hofer’s Feed and Livery Stable, and in¬ loons, and street sweeper for the city, and quired where he might find something to his ill-starred life was ended in involuntary eat and rustle up a game. He was directed service for the State of Illinois. Of his to a place where he might kill two birds mother, nee Mollie Leeper, Jack, Jr., had and wound another with one stone—the only a hazy memory. If she had learned Golconda. to read and write, her fate might have been And it was there that he first saw her. happier, but she early escaped from the Mr. Carter’s experiences with women ills of ignorance and a trifling husband to were limited to one class—adventuresses of others that she knew not of. Thus at the the lower order, confidence women, and age of seven, Jack was left an orphan with keepers of gambling houses—in short, the two living parents. lower class. Marge’s beauty and friendli¬ At twenty, after a career as newspaper ness captivated him. He had been in town and stable boy, he conceived aspirations less than a day; but already, with the ac¬ for the ring. He actually rose from the quisition of property and the friendly chat¬ amateur to the professional class. But the ter of such a girl, he was beginning to feel laurels of a fighter never crowned his head. respectable. Almost prominent. For one thing, he secretly indulged his When he could eat no more, and had no preference for whisky and lemon-pie over excuse for staying longer, he called for his milk and beefsteak. His evenings, however, check. Marge drifted over to him -from afforded leisure for his studies in poker and another table, where she was engaged in dice, in which gentle accomplishments he sprightly repartee with some newcomers. attained a higher grade of efficiency. “ Come again—Jack,” she invited. Chicago proving too narrow a scope for “ Betcher life I will, kid,” vowed Mr. his activities, he began to let out in ever- Carter. broadening circles. His twenty-eighth year And true to his word, he did. Many found him in the far West, subsisting on times. Julius had been absent seven nights, the wages of a longshoreman and what he six of which Mr. Carter had been very could pick up in an occasional game. much present. And now, as Julius read¬ At San Pedro, California, he received a justed his tie and slicked back his hair in letter from a friend in Chicago. Jack was front of the gate, Jack brushed by him, no scholar, but his Herculean labors on his knocked and was admitted into Marge’s friend’s atrocious writing were many times presence. rewarded. The letter stated that there “ Well, I’ll be— Say! What do you was a boom in Alabama (which was some¬ think of that? No, I’m.no fool, of course. where down about New Orleans) where I’m a genius for sense, I am,” Julius mut¬ they had discovered rich gold mines and tered. so many oil wells that it was difficult to This time Julius remained away two obtain drinking water. weeks. Then he went back. It hurt his Ten days later found Jack in Nebo City, pride to divide his time with a rival—and BREAKING LOOSE. 231

such a rival! Julius mentally denounced messenger; “ you’ll find her at the Gol- him as a tough-neck, drunkard, gambler, conda restaurant.” and bum, and his characterization was not On the way to the court-house he re¬ far from right. But divided time with any volved the matter of the telegram in his old rival was better than no time at all. mind without arriving at a satisfactory He had lost half of his self-respect and all conclusion. Several teachers were ahead of his self-control. He couldn’t stay away of him, and while waiting for his pay he from No. 7 Courland Street. had ample leisure to listen to the court¬ house gossip. The law-and-order mayor III. had taken his seat with his law-and-order Weeks passed; summer, approached; council, and therewith was a tale in the the school year was drawing to a close. making. Julius, as sympathizer and one¬ There was a municipal election in May, in time coworker, was let in on a sensational which the reform element put out a ticket secret. to correct the flagrant abuses of decency He left the court-house hurriedly. His and order rampant in the city. Ordinarily face wore a tense, anxious look, but it at¬ Julius would have taken an active part in tracted no attention: faces of that kind such an election, but now he could feign were beginning to make their appearance only a lukewarm interest. When the Re¬ in Nebo City. forms won out, with playing bands and At almost the same spot where he had flying colors, he was surprised at his own met the messenger-boy a few minutes since, apathy. he ran squarely into his uncle, the presi¬ With troubles of his own, and the ad¬ dent of the Acme Refractories Company. ditional bother of commencement week, he He appeared no less agitated than Julius. had no eyes for the occurrences around “ Where have you been?” Old John him. Neither had many others. But oc¬ Laidlaw grasped his nephew’s arm rough¬ currences there were—not so important of ly. “ I’ve been looking for you everywhere themselves as of signs and omens of what —I must have a word with you.” was to follow. “ In a minute, uncle,” said Julius, trying A few of the wary and prophetic claimed to disengage himself. “I’m in a burry to have noticed about this time that the now.” small Chinese population, numbering two “ So am I. It’s to your interest—” families and an unattached laundryman, “ In a minute, uncle.” With one wrench had folded their tents and silently stolen Julius rudely detached himself from his a half-carload of laundry and away. Fol¬ uncle’s grasp and headed down the street. lowing their nocturnal departure, the Jews “ I’ll be back immediately,” he called began a silent, wholesale journey to fresh back over his shoulder. fields and pastures new. What it all meant * Straight as a bee to its hive he went to was afterward explained by these same re¬ the Golconda. Marge, dressed for the troactive prophets with a proverb about street, was talking to the proprietor. Ju¬ rats and doomed ships. lius called her to the door. Such was the status of things on the “Are you going to work to-night?” he last day of commencement, when Julius asked. walked down to the court-house to draw “ Why, I-5-I don’t know. Why?” his final check. On Main Street he met a “ Don’t.” messenger-boy inquiring the way to No. 7 “ Don’t?” Courland Street. “ I see you’ll have to be told, Marge,” “ For Miss Strange?” Julius asked sus¬ he panted. “ But stay away from here to¬ piciously. night. They—the new officers—are going Thje boy produced from his cap a yellow to raid this place to-night.” envelope of the telegraph company, which Marge suppressed an exclamation. confirmed Julius’s guess. Quickly controlling her amazement, she “ She’s not at home,” he informed the asked: 232 ARGOSY AND .RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ What’s that got to do with me?” “ All right; come if you wish,” she stat¬ “ What—to do—with you? Why, ed listlessly, as if that were the easiest way they’re raiding this place this evening. out of it. Then, turning back to the pro¬ They’ll arrest everybody found here. prietor, she left Julius standing alone near They’ll arrest you.” the door, feeling very much like a self- “ What will they arrest me for? What made fool. have I done?” Forgetting all about his engagement Slowly her indignation caught fire and with his uncle, he walked off in the opposite the floodgates of her speech were opened. direction. His main concern was to pass “So that’s what you think of me—that the time till night, and to that end he went I—that I’m not a good woman!” Anger to the library with the purpose of burying and tears strove for mastery in her voice. himself in the enchanting pages of “ What if they do sell whisky and play Buckles’s “ History of Civilization.” Later cards up-stairs? I’ve never been up there he walked to the river and then slowly en¬ in my life. My business is to wait on the compassed the town. The hours were lead¬ tables down here.” en winged and unbelievably weary. “ You misunderstand ipe, Marge,” he In the course of his walks he came upon tried to explain. many nervous, anxious faces, but he saw “ No, I don’t. You’ve doubted me from them not. When a friend stopped him the first—you always have. Oh, I remem¬ and asked: ber all your cute little lectures to elevate “ Did you know that the rolling-mill me into the Pharisee class of Pembroke, failed to meet its pay-roll to-day?” he re¬ Massachusetts. But I didn’t want to live plied absently: in Psalms and Emerson and walk so-so. I “ That so?” wanted to live. And you thought I was “ Yes, it was a thunderbolt; everybody bad—bad, and you would reform me.” thought the mill was prosperous. L had a “ Marge, you misunderstood me entire¬ tip months ago that the ore was of an in¬ ly. I meant—” ferior quality; and when the Chinese be¬ “ And Jack Carter,” she went on, “ is gan leaving a while back, I said, ‘ Look just as bad the other way. He wasn’t born out—rats will quit a doomed ship.’ ” in Pembroke, Massachusetts; he was born “ Very likely,” Julius agreed, and walked in a stable, and drank beer for milk. He’s on. The troubled faces that everywhere drunk more whisky and been to more fights stared blankly into his troubled him not than you’ve ever been to prayer meeting, at all. Blocking the sidewalks stood groups but he thinks I’m a lady. He thinks I’m of men, talking, swearing, gesticulating a thousand times better than what I am. angrily; and sometimes the strident voices “ I’m disappointed in b6th of you. I’m of women added a new note to the discord. not an angel or a—a lost woman. I’m just If Julius had listened he might have learned human. I don’t want to be always weighed that there was a run on one of the banks against New England school-ma’ams and that afternoon, and that the depositors in women of the underworld. I wanted— all of them were in a panic of fear. but what’s the use? You wouldn’t under¬ “ I’m not such a cad as she thinks I stand in a thousand years.” am,” he said under his breath. To say that Julius was amazed does lit¬ And then: tle justice to the state of his mind. He “ Hell or no hell, I’ll marry her to¬ had never dreamed that Marge was ca¬ night!” pable of such eloquence. Whether by chance or dint of habit, his “ You’re all wrong, Marge. If you’ll walk led him past No. 7 Courland Street. let me come over, I’ll explain to-night.” The windows were dark and the tiny apart¬ “ Not to-night.” ment showed no signs of habitation. “ Yes, to-night—please. I’ll be leaving At the restaurant door he paused in¬ for home next week. Doesn’t that mean stinctively. The day had been long, and anything to you, Marge?” something of the nervous dread and high BREAKING LOOSE. 233

tension through which he had been passing “ That’s what Jack Carter said.” for hours had communicated itself to him. “ Jack Carter?” The old man looked Even before looking, he knew that Marge at his nephew quizzically and moved his was not there. One glance inside confirmed chair nearer the door. his worst fears. “ Of course,” he resumed, “ from the His rival, Jack Carter, came blundering nature of my office, I saw the handwriting out. Seeing Julius, he assumed an air of on the wall first, and if you had come back nonchalance. to me this afternoon when you promised, Hey, perfessor, we’re in the same boat, I could have found a buyer for your twenty ol’ boy,” he gibed. shares.” “ In the same boat?” Julius repeated in “ I don’t understand you, uncle,” said bewilderment. Julius, with his first faint gleam of intelli¬ “ That’s what. Didn’t you hear the gence. news—that Marge is married?” “ Don’t understand? What have I been “ Married?” talking about? Perhaps you can under¬ “ That’s what. What d’you think I’m stand that you have just lost two thousand doin’—givin’ you lessons in English? You dollars—two thousand dollars, buried with¬ needn’t say it over after me, but Marge out hope of resurrection in that brick plant married that man she’s been writin’ to up and in clay and rock mines. Do you get in Kentucky. Got a telegram to-day that that?” he was cornin’, an’ at five o’clock they was “ Oh, darn the money,” Julius sighed married an’ on their way back to the ol’ wearily, and rose and left the room. Kentucky home.” On the street, however, the money “ Did she have a mother?” Julius ven¬ played a minor part in his disordered, chi¬ tured idiotically. merical fancies. But it was not so much . “ Sure; the ol’ lady went with ’em.” the money, after all, as the sense of lost Julius immediately left for his rooms. illusions, futility, the death of a great hope. He wanted to be alone, to try to collect his He had hoped to see Nebo City grow up thoughts and try to study things out for into a mighty metropolis around his prop¬ himself. erty, with sky-scrapers, oil wells, huge His little temporary haven, with its bits stone mansions, a university, and acres and of odd, antique furniture, choice books and acres of municipal parks. And now, within home pictures, had never seemed so allur¬ a few weeks or months, it would be dead as ing. He was therefore disappointed to find old Carthage, and without her glory! his uncle waiting for him: he so wanted to The romance of his life was over. In be left absolutely alone. the egotism of youth, he could not conceive “ Don’t take it so hard, Julius, my boy,” that at some future time he would love and the uncle said kindly. “ I might have venture and exult and despair again; that saved you if you had come with me when I there were other fortunes to be made and asked you; but I suppose that, like the lost, and other Marges to laugh with and rest of us, you were too excited to act sane¬ at him and marry other men. ly. Of course you know it’s too late now.” As a faithful dog returning to the old “ Of course.” home of his dead master, he went once “ We’d been getting money from one of more to the birth and death place of his the banks, but something about the roll¬ first romance. To any other observer the ing-mill leaked out, and there was a run Golconda would have appeared the same: on the bank this afternoon. It so hap¬ the same rickety tables, with their whitish pened that this was the day we had to have table cloths; the same bantering, noisy money, and it put us on the blink. diners; the same (almost the same) merry, “ I regret it exceedingly, Julius. I don’t white-aproned waitresses. But to Julius— know how Agatha will take it; but I did what a difference! What a world of empti¬ what I thought best for your interests. ness was crowded between the four walls! Anyway, we’re left in the same boat.” Across the counter he called for whisky. 234 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

There was not a drop in the house: his heart,” which suggested stories of the timely warning had seen to that. A few brotherhood of thugs and human sacrifice. minutes later he emerged from a blind al¬ At first the„ dervish turned slowly, but ley with the remnants of a quart bottle in presently he turned faster and faster, till his possession. Julius’s head began to swim at the sight His sensations were peculiar but highly of him. pleasurable. A delicious warmth and ting¬ “ Not so fast, brother—not so fast,” Ju¬ ling raced through his veins and enveloped lius cried with concern. his whole body. Only in the dim border¬ His warning was misunderstood and re¬ land between sleep and waking had he ever sented, and he had a realistic sensation of experienced such an exquisite state of be¬ falling through the crowd, with the smell ing. And yet all his senses were awake— of blood in bis nostrils. But one cannot keenly awake. stand or fall alone, and inadvertently he It was a different Julius who walked for carried .with him a small boy, an empty the last time the streets of' the dying Nebo baby-carriage and a yelping dog. Before City. But to Julius it was no longer Nebo rising he looked around. His fall might City, nor was it dying nor even sick. It have been measured by seconds, but it had was Bagdad or Samarkand or ancient transformed the Oriental priest and his Thebes, and it was pervaded with a sub¬ medley of followers into a common variety dued radiance blended of all the colors, of the genus homo Americanus. from the great Northern Lights to the gor¬ He reached for his hat, rose, and pro¬ geous hues of tropical sunsets. The light ceeded down the street. In the confusion that never was on land or sea enveloped it of his fall he had exchanged hats with the like a luminous cloud. small boy with whom he collided, which Past kiosks, pyramids, and pagodas he hat now perched precariously on the top went, even to the market-place of the Great of his head. For some time the wagon Bazaar, and there entered to buy presents had been pulling with difficulty. Looking for his little nephew in Massachusetts, U. back, he saw that he had a passenger—a S. A. His selection comprised just the small, red-headed, pug-nosed urchin. things that a healthy, normal American “ Hello!” Julius called blankly. “ Who of six years would most enjoy. In one are you?” hand he carried a Teddy bear and an air- The boy grinned, but made no reply. gun, and with the other he pulled a child’s Julius went on. Immediately forgetting wagon. about the boy, he satisfied his need for At a street comer he surprised a small self-expression by singing. For all his choir group of people, who strangely saw noth¬ practise, his was not a particularly musi¬ ing unusual in his appearance. But Julius cal or tractable voice, but he spared it not: could not return the compliment. He was “ I wish I wazh a little bird, in that ecstatic stage that recognizes no I’d f-fly to the top of a tree, boundaries of time and space; and three And there I’d shing a shad little shong: continents and a hundred centuries greeted ' Nobody cares for me. his gaze. Fakirs from Hindu temples, “ ‘ Nobody cares for me, white-headed viziers, sheiks, Pharaohs and Nobody cares for me.’ ’’ their daughters, cadis, califs, caitiffs, and others whose titles he could not remember, Julius liked the song, and he liked his made up the medley convention on the voice. Tears came into his eyes as the edge of the path. tender sentiment of the ditty seeped into One, a composite of a whirling and a his'groggy soul. In another verse he pined howling dervish, whirled around before his to be audience and talked incessantly. Julius “. , , a little bird caught a few scattered remarks of the ha¬ And swim to the bottom of the sea.” rangue, as “ defaulter,” “ wholesale rob¬ bery,” and “ a pound of flesh nearest the there to sing his dolorous song. Then he BREAKING LOOSE. 235

branched out to variations, of which there Blood,” the evangelist exhorted and called might be as many as there are living crea¬ sinners to repentance. A few went for¬ tures and elements, and. ended with a ward, and devout church-workers scattered more particular desire to be a little canary through the audience, urging their unre¬ bird. generate friends to the front. He was having trouble in selecting a Hardly was one song finished till the au¬ place for the little canary bird to go—a dience started another; and “ Throw Out poetical spot to rime with the sad refrain, the Life-Line,” “ There’s a Great Day when he met Mr. Hoskins, an elder in the Coming,” and “ Is Your Heart Right With church and chairman of the board of trus¬ God?” flooded the little church. And all tees of Nebo City Academy. He read dis¬ the time the man of God appealed to sin¬ approval in Mr. Hoskins’s eyes. ners on the uncertainty of life, the fear of “ ’S all ri’, Mr. Hoskins, I do,” said Ju¬ everlasting hell, and the love of Christian lius. “ I wish for anything. I’d ruther be mothers. a pirate than a damn school-teacher. One old lady, loved throughout the town “ You didn’t know my Great-gran’father for her gentleness and goodness of heart, Schwinded, I shuppose? He’s dead. Died began to shout. The congregation was o’ dropsy. Dead an’ buried. He wash moved. Wet faces appeared everywhere; educated for preacher, graduate of college other voices were raised. an’ all that, like me, an’ engage’ to marry • Of a sudden the mourners’ bench began fine ol’ girl of fine ol’ Boshton fam’ly. to fill. One man standing near Julius was Daughter of bishop. It meant shocial and convicted of his depravity and started for¬ ’cleshiastic prestige for my great-gran’¬ ward. Somewhere Julius had seen that father. face before—had seen it when it was not “ One night he dhrank lil glass of whisky penitent and not drenched with tears. by mishtake—think of that!—thought it Then he placed it in the right niche of wash min’ral water—an’ married the bar¬ memory. tender’s daughter an’ ran off to sea. My Yes; he was sure of it, though he could Aunt Agatha shays I’m my own great- hardly believe the evidence of his senses. gran’father.” He was drunk, he knew, but not so drunk With which gratuitous information he that he couldn’t see. Nor was it the work went his way. Farther down the street of fancy, however improbable and unreal the wagon turned over, spilling his passen¬ it all might seem. ger, who began to cry and set up some kind He could doubt no longer: it was Jack of a howl about a hat. Julius honored the Carter. And while he looked, Jack, sob¬ boy with one retrospective glance and pur¬ bing brokenly and bowed under the weight sued his course. His purpose was to at¬ of a thousand generations of sin, stumbled tend a dance, and to that end he kept eyes forward and fell on his knees before the and ears alert. And immediately, as if altar of mercy. the gods were listening for his whims, the “ Hit him pretty hard—about the girl sound of music came to him from a side an’ hish money. Like me,” Julius com¬ street. muned with himself as he turned away. Directing his steps thither, he climbed “ He thought she wash an angel, an’ I some steps and stood in the door of a thought maybe— Well, both of ush had church. He was not looking for a church. to cel’brate, an’ it wouldn’ be any cel’bra- In his befuddled state of mind it seemed tion at all—nozzin new at all—for him to that he had done nothing all his life but get drunk or me to go to church. attend divine services. . Nevertheless he re¬ “ Thash ri’, Jackey, ol’ boy; go ’head mained. an’ get religion—I’ve already got it.” The sermon was over and the minister And pulling the overturned wagon be¬ was calling penitents to the “ mourners’ hind him, like a recalcitrant pup to a leash, bench.” While the audience stood and he stumbled once more into the street sing¬ sang “ There is a Fountain Filled With ing his little song. bif Ethel and James Dorr&rtce Authors of " Scalps to the Brave.” ete.

WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED ARRIVING in Dismal Gap, North Carolina, whither he had come to fight the drink habit at the suggestion of Sylvi^ Brainard and Spencer Pope, collector of internal revenue, Calvin Parker, artist, met Verney Metcalf, mountain beauty, put up at Plott’s Hotel, and imme¬ diately found himself suspected as a “ revenuer.” North Carolina as a State had gone bone dry, and after an unsuccessful effort to deport him on the part of Asa Simms and Rex Currie, of the wet forces, the latter in love with Verney, Calvin attended a secret meeting of the drys, headed by Colonel Dryden, who offered for Parker’s use a shack on Fallaway Rim. The drys had also mis¬ taken Parker for a revenue officer. Suddenly the light went out and some missile thudded against' the wall; flaming letters ap¬ peared thereon, but after a brief panic Parker discovered this to be luminous paint, and with one of the men for helpers dug their way out of the downfall of rock caused by an explosion engineered by the wets. It appeared that the missile had been a bullet from Currie’s rifle, which was equipped with a silencer. Later, after Calvin’s meeting with old Tom Metcalf, Verney’s father and the leader of the wets, following Parker’s occupancy of the cabin on Fallaway Rim, at the Metcalf house, Old Tom continually muttered of blue flames. A warning as to Parker from Asa Simms, delivered by Rex Currie, precipitated a furious argument, which ended, despite Rex’s opposition, in her father’s de¬ cision that Verney should shadow the supposed revenuer, who, after buying a horse, again met the girl, who displayed a surprising knowledge of painting, criticising his canvas after neatly drilling it at the edges with her rifle. Following old Tom to a cabin in the woods, Parker saw him fondling something which ran through his fingers like drops of liquid fire. He was reminded of the words of Tobe Riker, the stage-driver, to Verney—his mysterious allusion to certain “ hellish blue flames ” in which Metcalf was interested. Now the old man addressed them in soliquy, saying: “ Blue flames, you’ve got the power I crave—you can open the world to my gal.” Parker slipped, lurched forward into the window-frame. He -found himself cruelly wedged as though forced into a strait-jacket.

CHAPTER XIV. Parker ceased his struggles to be free from the vise into which his awkwardness HIS CUT-BACK. had flung him, advised by the point of the ON raising his head he found his pre¬ gun. dicament pointed by the round “ Let me explain my position, Mr. Met¬ mouth of a rifle barrel. Despite the calf.” undoubted surprise of his appearance on “ ’Pears to me that don’t need no ex¬ the scene, the hands which held the weapon plaining.” were steady. In the shifty torch-light Old “ But it does, sir; rather, the incentive Tom’s face showed to be twisting with fury. that got me into this somewhat tight place. “Hell’s banjer—the slick!” he cried. You folks around here have a mistaken idea “ Stop wrenching—you can’t heft loose. of me. I am seeking liquor, yes; but for What be you-uns hunting this p.m.? Do my own use. I am able and willing to pay you call me bird, beast or fish? You hear well for—” me asking of you. Best be thinking quick “ You’ll pay, by cripes! ” or i_” The tightening of rifle-aim com¬ The blond patriarch’s interruption was pleted his suggestion. an angry roar, This story began in T1 s Argosy for May 10. BLUE FLAMES. 237

“ I’d ought to make you pay this minute, could be heard lashing about in attempts to by right, for spying on—on—” He glanced escape punishment. From the makeshift back at the hearth, innocent of lard pail, of shelter behind Teetotaler sounded an oc¬ mysterious flames, of the cobblestone taken casional snorted protest. from the chimney-back. Marvelously swift Smoking a pipe just inside the open front had been his restoration at first hint of doorway, the shut-in watched the spectacle alarm. His expression was less fierce as he with equivocal interest and dismay. In returned to the window’s prisoner. “ But time, however, the fantastic shapes of the there’s smarter than what I am on your cloud battalion, the kaleidoscopic tints in trail. You’ll get yourself run outen these the shrapnel of rain, the poor spirit—or was parts, I reckon, without my man-killing it wisdom—of the growing things that of¬ you.” fered no resistance grew monotonous. He “ I reckon I won’t, if you have any jus¬ closed both doors and lit the candles. tice in your system. This mountainside When the fire cheered up, he set himself, isn’t your property, anyhow, is it?” Parker with what skill he could summon, to the protested, the while guardedly working one manufacture of an omelette which, in view shoulder upward. of the energy expended in fluffing and flap¬ The effect of the question, upon the old ping it, ought to have tempted his appetite. man was unnerving. The rifle again raised But it was sad as the day. It oozed futile and a steady eye squinted along its barrel. tears. He grew disgusted with it as he par¬ “ What’s it you say?” he bellowed. “ I took of it. ain’t never been no man-killer, but I’ll start He plumped both elbows upon the table with you, if you pester me with another and at last permitted himself to brood. The question. ’Tain’t a matter of whose land fact that his eyes were gazing straight at this is—you got no right prowling over it. Sylvia’s latest, framed in a purple leather If you wriggle your right side down instead stand, gave license for this lapse from cheer. of up you can heft loose. The winder’s Cause enough for a man to brood—look¬ warped atop — has been plumb squaw- ing at Sylvia’s picture—the man who was wifted ever since the Bald’s last conniption away! Why had he not appreciated her fit.” rarity in time to save himself this torture- Parker found these instructions practical. cure? The only possible excuse he could Loosened from the grip of the slanted think of was that from childhood he had frame, he turned to urge his contested ex¬ grown used to Sylvia. When had he not planations upon the mountaineer. been leashed by a preference for her, from But in the same split-minute two discon¬ the little-boyhood days when' her fairy- certing things occurred. The flare went out princess fluff of silver hair had always been and a bullet tore through the soft crown of waving like the banner of a knight just his fedora—he felt the press of it lift his ahead of him; through the college vaca¬ hair. tions, when he had found her a debutante, “That means you git and stay git!” with sentiment beginning to make mystery amplified a ravening voice from the pitch- in her violet eyes; after his return from the black inside. dissipations and art struggles under the Under all circumstances this appealed to tutelage of French masters, when her fragile Calvin Parker as sensible advice. loveliness and reserve of manner had roused him to a protectorate not felt in any of hit. The man from “ out North ” was unpre¬ crasser, Latin-quarter affairs. pared for the advent of the annual black¬ On that culminative “ varnishing day ” berry-blossom storm. Some time during at the Academy, when he was paid tribute* the night the winds had marshaled their as “ perhaps the most promising of ouv. heaviest storm-clouds in the sky; by day¬ younger American artists,” it had seemed break were driving a slantwise deluge that fitting that his triumph should be a portrait made the trees writhe, and beat down com¬ of Sylvia as the one whitest lily-of-the- pletely fern and bush. Already the creek valley, gleaming from a vague, fanciful 238 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

background of many of the same—not one hands against his temples, which were so elusive, so exotically sweet as she. throbbing. His technique had been mentioned as in¬ “ What a head! ” he murmured, not com- spired—but inspired, as he had acknowl¬ plainingly, but as one states the infliction of edged, both to himself and to Sylvia by his an undeserved ill. “ Last night must have lifetime of looking at her. Their engage¬ been some night—some night!” ment had been the most natural develop¬ Disapproval, dark upon Pope’s face, gave ment in the world, approved by the two edge to his tone. families and society. That it had devel¬ “ Why, on the eve of the most important oped into a long one had been tacitly day in your career, couldn’t you have let understood by every one to be a punish¬ the trouble-stuff alone? You’re in fine ment for his growing self-indulgence with fettle, aren’t you, to show your winter’s the cup. work to the world this afternoon? Of Once, in the reaction after a. conspicuous course your personal appearance and habits social contretemps, he had pointed that won’t influence the experts and critics, but marriage might “ brace him up.” For the it will the fashionables, from whom your first time she had mentioned her jealousy future commissions must come. You look of his habit. Wine was her rival, she like a poster of ‘ A Night Out.’ For Sylvia’s acknowledged prettily. Until he had worn sake, you might have held in until your out the other love, she dared not trust her¬ exhibition tea was over.” self to him. She was content to wait. Time Parker tried a jaunty air, only to realize enough to settle down, she had declared, its failure. after both had had their fling. So the days “ Had every intention of doing so,” he and months, even years, had piled upon defended. “ Forgot my lunch, in the var¬ each other until— nishing of those two new portraits until too Parker’s elbows straightened along the late to get it served here. Taxied down to deal table; his chin continued heavy in his the Van Vliet for a bite. Only had two or hands; his cheek flattened against the three to rest up on and a lone little bottle boards in the prostration of his memories. with my smelts and tartar. I’d have been The shack was stuffy from the fire, thick all right if a bunch of those velvet-coats with tobacco smoke, unpleasantly odorous and cropped-hair ‘partners’ hadn’t dropped irom spent candles -and cookery. One after in. They’re always so overpoweringly cor¬ another the lights went out. The wet logs dial with a chap who has cash enough in on the hearth succeeded at last in spitting pocket to pay the checks. I wa§ billed to out the fire' With darkness Calvin Parker take Sylvia to the opera and had to dress, fell into an unhappy dose. so I guess I must have been pretty late getting back up-town.” Some one laid violent hands upon his “ You were,” Pope nodded with grim shoulders, shook him to an unsteady stand. effect. “ At nine o’clock last night she tele¬ He muttered resentfully and stared about. phoned for me.” He was in his own studio, where he had “ For you—why for you, Spence?” been the last he remembered. The old-gold “A queen wants some courtier dangling walls with their frames of brown-and- around the throne steps. Sylvia asked me bronze, the pet Persian rugs, the costly this to fill in—to take your place, as it were.” and that fancied in his travels—all were A smile was on the deputy collector’s recognizable. good-looking face, a rather strange smile, Then, too, it was Spencer Pope, his partly of self-depreciation and partly of— closest friend, who had acted as alarm- could it be triumph? Parker noticed it and clock. He mumbled a recognition of this paused a moment to ponder, then promptly fact as he shambled over to one of the win¬ gave it up. Let good old Spence smiled if dows that overlooked the park and threw he could; how did it matter just what he it up for air. When he faced again toward was smiling over? the huge, beautifukroom, he pressed both “ Went alone to the Winter Palace and BLUE FLAMES. 239

afterward to supper at Fred’s. Don’t re¬ He heard the finish of Pope’s order be¬ member much after that. Since the morn¬ fore turning on the water. On turning it ing-after face of that clock says it’s noon, I off he heard the finish of what evidently must have got somewhere home in the late had been a second call upon the wire. earlies.” “ The sooner the better for both him and Pope continued to smile that strange you. But I want you to see him at his smile of his. worst—you ought to know why. Yes, I’ll “ And by the early lates—to be exact, by wait—until seeing you, then.” three o’clock this afternoon,” he said, “ you He did not understand until later. Even have to be in form to receive the super¬ then he did not quite see why Spencer, his ultras of the art set and their self-tagged friend, had taken the initiative, should want devotees!” his fiancee to see him “ at his worst.” At this Parker managed mirth-sounds of When he presently emerged into the some buoyancy. studio he felt somewhat better, and the “ Don’t look so sour about it, friend men¬ critical deputy expressed himself as amazed tor. The four portraits are varnished, I by the transformation. Then, too, Sylvia tell you—finished to the last hair of the looked exceptionally beautiful as she swept last eyebrow.” in, earlier than he. could have hoped, but But, Cal, if you could see yourself! dressed for the exhibition tea. Small, fragile You look like—” of figure, yet aglow' with health, dainty as Parker waved a soothing hand. “ My dawn in her blush-rose crape, she divided boy, do you think Mrs. Millionbucks Pem¬ her greetings, her inquiries, her wavery broke is going to hold my looks against me smiles between the two men. when she sees herself in oils of my spread¬ Humility overtook Parker that he should ing, admired by all her crowd? Or Captain be allowed to look at anything so fresh and Mayflower Hannah, or old Mortgage-on- fragrant after the chaotic depths of last the-World Flint, or my own lily-of-the- night. Sylvia always seemed the more de¬ valley lady?” sirable after a debauch with his “ other “ Don’t class Sylvia with your other sit¬ love.” He longed to kiss the lips that were ters,” Pope objected. “ Sometimes, Cal, you so tolerant of his fault, but, with Pope seem positively odious in your cast-iron as¬ present, touched only her finger-tips. That, surance that nothing you do can affect her he felt, was much more than he deserved. good opinion.” Sylvia was seldom demonstrative, having “ Of course I’m no fit object for a been reared to the idea that it was enough fiancee’s eyes just now, Spence, but by that for her to be; but an exclamation of relief third early-late I’ll be—well, an expurgated escaped her at his appearance. edition. Give me ten minutes under the “ You don’t look half as bad as Spence— shower, a once-over shave, a jolt of rye, my that is, as I expected—not half!" breakfast, and a pipe— While I set about Her reproachful glance at their “ mutual working the miracle, won’t you give down¬ friend ” renewed Parker’s uneasiness over stairs a ring for a grape-fruit, sans sugar; a the telephonic fragment he had Overheard. pot of black coffee; three two-minute eggs; “ He’s braced up wonderfully in the last a flock of unbuttered toast—that’s a good hour, as you would appreciate had you ar¬ fellow?” rived when I did,” Pope declared. “ If you Parker started for the annex to the studio and I are up to police duty, I guess the tea proper that held his living quarters. At the can be pulled off. I’ve just called up the door he paused and interrupted his friend’s florist, the caterer, and the musicians—it grudging manipulation of the telephone. seems that Cal neglected none of the pre¬ “ Strange,” he remarked, “ that I should liminaries. Everything and body is on the be wearing this smock! I’ve often got up way.” fully dressed, but never before in a smock. “ I’m so relieved! You gave me some¬ Wonder why in Sam Hill—” thing of a shock, Spence, and I do dislike to “ That’s all—and hurry it, please.” hurry.” She settled in a wing-chair at one 240 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. side the fireplace, her face lighting ex¬ chair, lift her to her feet, give her a forward quisitely beneath the large black velvet hat impulse. He had expected her to be sur¬ she wore. She lifted her purplish eyes to prised and pleased, but this emotion—her Parker’s. gasp of astonishment, the sudden flush that “ Cal,” she said quietly, “ you know I stained her pure coloring, her trembling, as never have wished to interfere with what if she were about to swoon— should-be your own affair, but Spencer She stopped half-way across the floor thinks you are getting more or less hopeless space, a look of horror stiffening her face. on the liquor question. You kept me wait¬ . One hand wavered upward and covered her ing last night without a word of ex¬ face, the other pointed forward. Half the planation, and all the telephone booths in sob of a child, half the wail of a woman, New York at your service. If it hadn’t her accusation lifted. been for Spence, I’d have—” “ What—what have you done?” “ I’m sorry, dear—I’ll find some way to “ What haye I done?” make it up to you,” Parker interrupted. “You’ve done it, all right!” Was it “ But even Spencer Pope hasn’t any right triumph that had sounded in Pope’s voice to call a man hopeless Vho does his work as he hurried to the girl and half-carried her before he plays. When you see the way I back to her chair. glorified the Pembroke battle-ax yesterday, Her face sank into both hands. She be¬ you’ll understand that I was working at gan to sob. high tension—that in a way I had earned a Fear, unidentified but cruel, clutched at reaction. And an effect of transparency Parker’s heart. He strode into the center which I got into the lily leaves came from of the room and turned to face his master¬ last-minute inspiration. You can’t work piece. One glance sent him reeling back¬ like that and plod like a dray-horse after¬ ward, as he never had reeled when in his ward. Don’t scold me for falling until you cups. have seen the height from which I fell. Whence had come this blight upon his Suppose we have a preview of the portraits gentle fantasy? before the rest arrive?” Each leaf and lily of the background, She glanced from lover to friend, her un¬ which had been but shadows of suggestion, wonted effort at severity already weakened. stood forth in offensive detail, wilted and Pope, seeing this, arose impatiently and partially decayed. Each feature of the cen¬ strode to the window. From a stand there tral flower-face had been mutilated until all he turned, frowning, to inspect the “ de¬ sweetness of expression was gone—forehead fense.” and nose lengthened, eyes bleared with a Assuming a briskness which physically, look of craft, lips curled with supercilious¬ at least, he did not feel, Parker sauntered ness, chin weakened. The silver hair, that over to the cord which controlled the purple had shimmered like pale sunlight, now sug¬ silk sheet before “The Lady of Lilies,” al¬ gested fibrilated ice. Frost had browned ready famed as his masterpiece. He drew and shrunk the sheaf of green-leaf satin upon it tenderly, yet with confidence, for, from which her shoulders rose. The virgin best of anything he had done, he loved this busts, into which such a feeling of rever¬ conception of the woman he loved. He did ence had been painted, were flattened into not look at the canvas in its wide, flat an unlovely thinness. Through the illusion frame of green gold-leaf. His eyes glanced gathered modestly over the heart, a jagged, hopefully at Pope’s stern face, then settled ugly spot could be discerned, in its center upon Sylvia’s to await the reward of her a gnawing worm. appreciation of what he hoped was a mas¬ The picture remained a portrait, but one ter-touch. ravished by brutal brushes into a powerful As the curtain clumped on one side the caricature. frame he heard his friends’ commingled From the chair into which he had col¬ stutter of amaze, saw the girl’s jewel-glit¬ lapsed, Parker studied the details of this tering hand clutch the arm of the wing- travesty on the most exquisite woman he BLUE FLAMES. 241

knew. When able, he glanced around at the two he considered his closest and dearest Sylvia and Pope. friends. He forced himself to draw up The girl lifted her face and returned his words from the well of bitterness \j$thin look, her lips opening, as if to speak, but him. uttering no sound. The man looked dis¬ “ I don’t remember anything about it, so gusted, yet alert — looked to f>e thinking I must have been very drunk. To you, hard. Sylvia, I don’t know what to say, except “ As you know, I was out all last night,” that it was my other self that has sinned said Parker in a lagging voice. “ Some one against you in ruining the portrait you sat must have broken in.” for so patiently. I am sorry and ashamed “ You have an enemy—perhaps a rival to the last fiber of my worthless self. I will artist?” faltered Sylvia. pay the price as best I can—will do what¬ Parker did not answer. A sudden per¬ ever you say.” ception prevented him. His eyes had fol¬ She answered his despair with despair of lowed the deputy’s to where the smock her own. which he had awakened wearing lay hud¬ “ But nothing you can ever pay will save dled on the floor of his dressing-room. my lovely picture—save you and me to¬ Upon a tabourette in a far comer his palette day!” lay. He remembered having cleaned it yes¬ “ I didn’t know,” remarked Pope, “ that terday afternoon. He sprang across the cartooning was in your line.” room to examine it. It was covered with “ Only when drunk,” acknowledged the paint, in daubs and small coils. The tubes recreant gloomily. “ It was my first offer¬ near-by showed to have been emptied with ing to art—got me expelled from Yale. The a twist that was peculiarly his own. Jester printed some sketches I had made of With hands shaking from what might the faculty when on a spree. Caution has have been either memory or prescience, he managed my subconsciousness since, until exposed the remaining three portraits of the to-day—” collection selected for private exhibit that “ Yes, to-day,’.’ Pope interrupted, taking afternoon. All had been maltreated by the out his watch. brutal brush. That of the wealthy Mrs. “ What can we do about to-day?” Pembroke, who had wished posterity to re¬ mourned Sylvia. member her comparative slenderness of fif¬ Parker heard the tones of subdued dis¬ teen years agone, now showed the triple cussion with which the deputy talked to his chins of to-day, had lost all figure-lines in fiancee from the consultation into which he balloonlike inflations. Horns distinguished had drawn her; heard fragments of their the brow of Captain Hannah, and lust drew plan to declare him suddenly ill, to “ call back his lips, both indelicate tributes to his off” the tea as best they might, heard wide-known reversion from the Puritanism Sylvia pleading against something which of the ancestors he boasted. Flint, Wall Spence had urged. He did not wish to know Street magnate, had been remade by a few until they were ready to tell him. He did imaginative strokes into a specimen of the not care much what they decided. He had chosen, whose blood he denied the more promised to abide by their decision, what¬ indignantly because it really flowed in his ever it was; no matter which of them had veins. Originated it; and he would. Diabolically was exaggerated every weak point of those who had paid so high a price “ And this was it! ” that the benefit of every doubt of them The exile in the cabin on Fallaway Rim might be perpetuated in oils! spoke aloud for company. Lifting the shoul¬ The artist reached his own verdict, stupe¬ ders that remained broad-built despite mis¬ fying, but positive.. He spoke the culmina- use of himself, he peered through the gloom. tive catastrophe. He fancied, rather than saw the photo¬ “ I must—have done it—myself.” graphic eyes of Sylvia Brainard bent with With the quiet of desperation he faced pitying encouragement upon him. 5 Argosy 242 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ God help me! ” he groaned. He was pleased that the hounds returned And, for the rest of that day, he thirsted his greeting in kind. Always had he been no more. said to have “ a way ” with dogs. Now, having rushed at him savagely, with bristles upraised, they subsided into a tail-waving, CHAPTER XV. sniff-approving escort. VARMINT FOOL! From a chair on the porch a man de¬ scended the steps and stood staring at him T* HE blackberry storm seems designed by from under hand-shaded eyes. Even at the 1 the weather-gods not to destroy the distance Parker recognized the giant figure mountainscape. Just in time it always re¬ and leonine head of redoubtable Tom. lents. Early on the fourth day Sol took a Remembrance of the old man’s parting squint over the prospect, gave his clouds a advices on their two previous encounters final wringing, then fluttered them out to lent interest to this defiance of them. “ See dry. The wind shook up the growing things. to it that you hunt only furj- fin, and The ground drained the drippings. All feathers,” he had said on the road. “ Now nature cheered that the huge wash-day was you git and stay git!” had been the com¬ over. In an hour the sun was beaming mand closing the contretemps at the cabin. steadily from a sky whose azure seemed The echoed threat of them in Parker’s mind only deepened by the wrung-out clouds gave his greeting suavity. flapping below. “ Good morning, Mr. Metcalf. I know From the door of the shack Parker it’s etiquette for a newcomer to wait until looked down into the valley, pleased as a the old settlers call on him, but I’ve been house-wife might have been at finding feeling a bit lonely, so here I am.” everything cleaned up. Straight across “ Here, you—” For a moment the the formerly smudged mountains looked patriarch continued to stare, his chin scoured and varnished, as also the blues and thrown up from a chest haired over with grays of the distances, the greens and oc¬ red where the flannel shirt was unbuttoned; casional floral flares of the foreground. then he finished sincerely: “ Here you be, Another thing was clear to him as the sure enough; and here .1 be, plumb gol- day: He had been a week without a drink! dinged! ” Yet where was the virtue of riding “ the “ In fact,” added Parker, “ I’d have been wagon ” if strapped into it? To enjoy his over several days ago, except for the new-found strength he must prove it. An¬ weather.” ticipation brightened his face as he stood “ Git you out, he-brute!” in the doorway; a gleam lit his eyes, as Tom’s command was startling until un¬ if reflected from the anticipatory world derstood as addressed to the more importu¬ without. He would change his mind about nate of the dogs. His roar at once softened letting that inhospitable mountain girl in¬ into a conversational tone. terfere. There must be no more beating “ Come along up the stoop, stranger, and about the bush; he would appeal directly, set you a chair.” as man to man, to old Tom Metcalf, ac¬ Parker accepted the invitation with his cording to his original intention. Truly, wonted lazy movements, but his thoughts faint heart never won anything for anybody made up in action. So immediate a con¬ —either friends or drinks! cession to “ the Parker charm ,r might be more suspicious than auspicious. “ Come A pair of hounds announced his ap¬ along up,” had said this lawbreaker who proach, even before he emerged into the believed him a revenue spy; yet the way considerable clearing that surrounded the he fell in behind would seem to amplify: double file of oaks and the pretentious— “ I want you ahead of me, so I can watch for the region—Metcalf house. He had left you.” Teetotaler at the ford, that he might seem There was, however, a declaration of the more defenseless in this morning call. square-dealing in the way the mountaineer BLUE FLAMES. 243

Strode across the porch to the open door, disconcerted by this array of evidence removed the revolver from his hip, hung against him, Parker pursued his course of it upon a nail in the frame—a nail made easy frankness. “ Possibly it was to divert significant by the company of other nails. my search that she sold me Teetotaler.” “ I’m not after fur or feathers this morn¬ Tom Metcalf agreed with a grin. “ I ing—I’d have to fling rocks if I were.” wouldn’t put it past her.” Such was Parker’s comment on this sign of “ The good dame, I also suspect, feared truce. I might share any find with her parched “ I seen that,” was the reply. worser half. She seems prohibition bent.” The “ out-Norther ” took the sway-back “ Sal sure is. She gives in to Bide about chair indicated, one that faced the door of as quick as ’lasSes runs.” His weathered what evidently was the living-room. The face straightened, his eyes grew serious as host straddled a straight-backed one against they swept the clearing. “ No’ Carolina, the wall of logs, thereby helping himself to in this day, stranger, ain’t the State for a a comprehensive view of the approaches to thirsty man. Time was when I had my hjs habitation. His feral eyes settled upon dram regular, but I’ve learned to dp with¬ the lax lounging of the younger man. out.” “ Quite a winding and raining we-all have “ You consummate old liar!” That was been suffering.” what Parker thought, wondering just how “Quite is right!” Parker returned this many stone-throws away was the Metcalf overture with a plunge into the object of his distillery. Aloud he tried a new approach. call. “ I’d be willing never to meet another “ From all I hear, there are many in the blackberry to escape another such storm. Carolinas who don’t obey the law to the There I was, shut up for three days and letter. Along the roads you are likely to nights in that windowless shack I’ve rented, happen upon twigs of laurel which point without so much as a drop of liquor to light the way to native barrooms.” my thoughts. Honestly, Mr. Metcalf, I’d “ So?” have given half my year’s income for one The mountaineer met his visitor’s gaze small bottle of the worst whisky ever bum¬ with a look that held no personal interest. bled.” It was politely vacuous. In the next breath The blockader’s expression was a tri¬ he changed the subject. umph, if judged by histrionic standards, its “ I’m right sorry you hit on to-day for amusement deepening into polite reproof. calling on us-uns, stranger, being as I’m the “ I disgust bad liquor myself.” only one seeable. Miss Emmy, my sister- “ Good or bad doesn’t matter so much in-law, who’s run the house since my own when your tongue is drier than a suction- good woman passed along, drove down to pump with the feed-pipe out of the well.” Dismal to buy some store stuff. My gal, Parker paused to enjoy his simile. “To Vemey, is suffering'this morning from the tell the end of my sad story first, I’m about all-overs.” desperate for some whisky.” “ The all-overs?"’ “ So we-all have hearn—so we’ve heam,” “ I reckon you-all would call what she’s chuckled Metcalf. got a case of nerves. Verney don’t have “ You have heard? From whom?” them soon, but when she does she ain’t fit- “ My nigger, Cotton Eye, is tolerable ten to talk to none, especially a furriner. talkative. He’s told us-uns how the Plotts Sandyred’s out with the nigger, planting; and Dry Dryden allowed you could happen Sandy’s my man-child. Another day I’d on some bumblings in the mountains. admire to meet him to you. It was power¬ Wa’n’t it Cotton Eye, now, who sent you ful common of you-all to make us a call. hoping to Asa Simms? And Sal Shortoff, Likely you’ll come again?” she gets so boiled up working for the cause The suggested dismissal of the old man’s that she spills.” words and manner Parker chose to disre¬ “ Mrs. Shortoff chose to regard me as a gard. pernicious influence.” Secretly somewhat “ To be frank, the object of my visit is a 244 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. double one,” he said. “ The social half of away, the color receding from his face, tHe it I’ll improve, thanks to your kind invita¬ angry lips straightening into lines of guile. tion, when I may meet the rest of your “ Likely you-all didn’t intend to rile me,” household. As for the other half—” said the mountaineer, “ but you’d best not He lifted his attention from patting one ask for bumblings again. Naturally I ain’t of the dogs so quickly as to surprise a got nary none, account of the law.” frown on the face recently masked in dis¬ A glance within showed Parker an anx¬ simulation. ious, admonitory face. Yet he persisted to¬ “ Mr. Metcalf,” he demanded in a voice ward his goal. that snapped, “ will you or will you not sell “ Far from wishing to rile you, sir, I’d me some whisky?” like to confide in you as I would in a friend. With a bang the uptilted forelegs of the There seems to be a report circulating patriarch’s chair met the floor. through the region that I’m a revenue offi¬ “ By cripes, you have got the nerve of— cer sent by the government to make trouble Be you a varmint fool to come here after— for blockaders.” I’ll show you what I meant when I—” Old Tom’s nod was nothing more than Each unfinished, these ejaculations spat admission that he had heard the report. through his lips. “ This you will realize,” the man from A sound and sight within the house the North continued, “ to be even more caught Parker’s attention. cruel than absurd when you know that I From just inside the door, around that am a man of independent income whose side of the frame where sat his host, he chief fault lies in having partaken too freely saw a long, strong-handed arm extend. A of the mead that cheers. I have come to checked gingham skirt fluttered a trifle. the Blue Ridge to get a grip on my thirst. The next moment a face appeared—one My presence here this morning, unarmed surrounded by fire-glinting hair. and unattended, when I’ve been warned of His eyes met the forbidding, fawn-green your suspicions of me, ought to argue for ones of Vernaluska Metcalf. the truth of what I claim.” Any impulse to get to his feet, to greet “ It might—and then again it mightn’t.” her, was subdued in time by the vehement The patriarch showed that he was not to be shake of her head and her significant finger- impressed by talk alone. to-lips. In the seconds he could afford for “ Here is my membership in the Satyrs— consideration he saw her possess herself of a famous New York club to which no reve- the revolver which her parent had hung nuer could belong. Will you oblige me by upon the nail as a sign of hospitality. looking it over-?” There was no suggestion of all-overs in her After the mountaineer had scrutinized rapid movements. the credential protected by isinglass on the A spell of amazement held Parker. What inside of the card-case extended and had did she want with the weapon? Would he returned it with only a grunt by way of find it trained upon him from the shadows? comment, Parker proceeded more boldly. Did she mean, with her own “ ornery ” “ You are generally believed, throughout hand, to make good the warning that he the countryside, Friend Metcalf, to distil a would not find anything “ pleasurable ” on grade of corn whisky which loses nothing Roaring Fork? of strength or flavor from the fact that it pays no tax to the Federal government. Wait just a minute before you flare up CHAPTER XVI. again—hear me through!” PAID BY PROMISE. The last exclamation had been drawn out by the glower which the mountaineer had YY7ITH return of his outer attention to focused upon him. vv Old Tom, Parker saw .that any im¬ “ Get a lavish with your explanationing, mediate outburst from that source was then!” averted. The sudden fury was smoothing Parker proceeded to do so, but not before BLUE FLAMES. 245

risking a glance into the living-room. The Parker. He hoped that the wily old law¬ sight within stirred his heart and voice. breaker would make a lunge for the gun, The girl still stood just beyond her fa¬ level it upon him, pull the hammer down ther’s range of vision with the revolver upon an empty cylinder. broken, the cartridges extracted and in her But the attack for which Metcalf had hand. This she showed him as, with sig¬ arisen proved not to be one of physical nificant gesture, she dropped the shells into force. After rounding his chair to the porch the pocket of her dress, snapped to the gun, edge, he flicked a caterpillar off a cluster of and returned it, harmless, to its nail upon geranium-blooms, then turned the chair the door frame. Again he noticed that in around, sat down upon it, and very deliber¬ hone of her movements was there sign of ately crossed his legs. that state of nerves under which she was “ You-all have got a plumb convincing supposed to be suffering. way of putting things,” he remarked. “ If With a thrill he realized that Vernaluska what you do was as convincing as what you was not allied against him, rather was act¬ say—” ing for him, was safeguarding him against A loudening, singing tenor voice inter¬ possible untoward impulses of her irascible rupted. From around the house the words parent. What a girl she was, he saluted her of the song became distinguishable: in thought—what a splendid, resourceful, pally sort of girl! “Feed the furnace and stir the mash; Play, the ace, you get the hash.” Metcalf was widely said to be a man of discrimination and fair play, he was mean¬ An expectant look soothed the severity of while suavely urging. That was why he Metcalf’s face. “ It’s Sandyred. Makes had risked the morning visit to his home them up himself, them songs.” in the teeth of their past unpleasantness. Into view strode the son of the “ can¬ WTas he likely to have come were he really tankerous” clan—-a; replica of what Old a revenuer? Would he not have tried Tom must have been as a youth. slinking, underhand methods out of regard “ Sandy, this here’s Parker from out for his personal safety? North,” said the old man by way of in¬ “ There’s no safe concluding about reve¬ troduction. “ Glad you happened along, nue slicks, whether or no,” the old man Tor he’s.in a powerful hurry to be moving drawled, now quite dispassionately. “ Some toward home, and you can show him the of the cuckolds are right pert of tongue, short cut to the ford.” while others are just fool-cussed.” “ I can that,” agreed the youth, with un¬ “ Well, sir, I’m neither smart-slick nor complimentary alacrity. fool-cussed, as you’ll realize when you know “ What do you think, son,” said Tom, me better,” Parker insisted. “ The govern¬ with a chuckle; “ he came up here hoping ment doesn’t know me except for a bit of to buy popskull! Heard that we Metcalfs income.tax, and I’ll never be a collector. made it ag’in’ the law! ” I come to you as a private customer, ready “Hell’s fire, dad!” The younger actor to pay your price. The delivery can take took an aggressive forward step. “ And any form you select for your safety until you’re a standing ^or a charge like that? after I’ve established your confidence. Let the cuss so much as hint such—” What do you say, sir?” “ Easy, son. He ain’t charging nothing; The mountaineer arose suddenly from the just hankering to feed a thirst, so he says.” seat which he had been straddling. Parker His voice hardened. “ But I’nj just telling straightened in his, nerved himself for a you, Mr. Parker, we-all know enough about possible attack. He glanced toward the them polite customs you was mentioning nail in the door-frame. Upon it the re¬ not to look forward to another call from volver hung, looking no more innocuous you until after we’ve returned this one of than before it had been robbed. The girl yours.” had disappeared. After expressing the hope that his social Enjoyment of the situation surged up in overture might soon be returned in kind, 246 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Parker started down the road with Sandy- “ Why, you blessed girl! ” he finally man¬ red. He did not feel altogether cheated of aged. “ To think that you—how can I the result of his visit. No matter how rude ever thank you? Let me relieve you of—” the mountain girl had been to him, there She stepped back, frowning, the jug again would be an argument in her favor every behind her. time he remembered the appearance of that “You can’t relieve me until you pay— brown hand and the removal of bullets. leastwise you can’t unless you’re the scum They stopped short in the road. A wo¬ that ’d try taking it from me by force. man’s cry of distress from somewhere in I’d give you a right smart tussle for it, at the woods to their right had cut the placid that.” air. Parker’s advance stopped, his surge of “ You’ll have to project your own way, warmth toward her checked by her evident stranger. I’ve got to go!” mercenary tendency. His hand sought his With the next breath the youth sprang ever-ready wallet. into the underbrush. “ I’ll pay anything the stuff’s worth to The noise of his departure crackled back you,” he said. to Parker, who hesitated, tempted to fol¬ “ Oh, it ain’t money that can buy this, low. But second thought started him so put back your container. It’s a promise again toward the ford. He had “ projected ” I want you to pay.” enough for one day. Whatever the cause “ A promise, Miss Metcelf?” of alarm, it could be no affair of his. He “ Yes, out-Norther, the sort of word-of- was contemplating the next move of the honor promise that gents keep or don’t liquor quest, some dozen rods down the make. It is that you take yourself out of road, when the thicket parted and Verna- this region without delay.” luska Metcalf stumbled down the bank. “ Take myself out? Would you mind Her face was flushed, eyes dilated, hair telling me why?” gloriously streaming. Her left hand was Vernaluska’s eyes flashed. “ You must pressed against her heart, her right was held have sight worse than Teetotaler not to see behind. that you’re in danger every minute you “ Miss Metcalf! ” cried Parker. “ I hope stay.” nothing has happened. We heard a scream, “ From your father?” and your brother departed like a shot.” She shook her head. “ My father fights “ It was mine, that scream—a signal. fair, but there are them that don’t. Rex I’ve got to make a hustle back,” she pant¬ Currie has reasons of his own for hating ed, “ and explain that I had an extra bad you, and he’s an enemy to worry any man. attack of the all-overs.” I know Rex. He won’t give you a chance “ But why the ruse?” to fight back. Promise you’ll take yourself “ I wanted to give you-all something un¬ off, and the jug’s yours.” beknownst to the folks. See what I man¬ “ Guess I’ll have to do without my bum- aged to lug here on the run, dodging Sandy- blings to-day,” said he wearily. “ I can’t red.” seem to get worried over Rex Currie’s dis¬ At sight of what she produced from be¬ like, and I may make my own chance to hind her back he took several hurried steps fight back when his attack comes.” toward her. “ Then ”—she hesitated, studying the “ A jug!” he exclaimed. “ For me?” stubbornness of him—“ I’ll swap that prom¬ She nodded. “ A gallon jug and full of ise for another. I’ll give over the jug if com juice. I’d go slow on it if I was a you’ll agree never to come to our place paleface like you-uns. It’s a sight more again.” powerful than what you’ve been used to “ Never come again?” He paused to look out North.” into the insistent eyes of her. The surprise of it, the joy of it, the al¬ More than anything else in the world he most divine relief of it, made Parker well- wanted that jug. He had not realized the nigh inarticulate. dynamic power of the desire for what it BLUE FLAMES. 247

Contained that had grown in its absence For the sake of perspective, he had until it was so nearly within his grasp. pushed the deal table to one side with its There came momentary diversion. Up litter of color tubes, brushes and bottles of the road sidled Teetotaler, a broken rein oil. Also upon its sheet of the checked explaining his escape from the bush to oilcloth stood the brown, gallon jug of the which he had been tied. By the time Par¬ morning’s compromise. ker had retrieved his straying mount his His gratitude on finding it full and the decision was made. mountain girl as good as her word had re¬ “ I’ll give you my word of honor not to habilitated his pledge to himself of temper¬ come to see you,” he said, “ subject to your ance. Only through his nostrils had he release of the jug, if you will promise to drunk of it along the way, a scant two come to see me at the Fallaway cabin.” fingers of it had he poured to his first toast The look she returned to his was search¬ of the afternoon. ing, almost mandatory in its effort to learn “ For medicinal purposes only! ” his trustworthiness. Then, all unexpected¬ The mild, crushed-flower aroma of the ly, an impish smile dimpled her face, her liquid, its clear-as-crystal color, its thinness, lilting laugh sounded. as of the pure spring water it resembled, ■“ Don’t you worry none; I’ll be seeing made Vernaluska’s warning seem a boast. you—more than you like, maybe.” But with the sear of unripened liquor “ You mean that you promise?” through his mouth and throat he knew that “ Why, man alive, I’ve sworn that to the Metcalf distillation was not weak. others than you! ” “ And old Tom disgusts bad liquor!” he Before he could question the cause, of made comment aloud to Boomer and his her sudden levity she had set the jug in mate who, according to custom, had the road before him and disappeared, as dropped in to lunch. “ Up to date, this swiftly as her brother had lately done, up popskull is the only thing I’ve met in the the bank and into the thicket. Blue Ridge that’s short on time—time to Exasperated by this last of her gazel- get mellow. Yet maybe it’s only the first like fleeings, he started to follow her, but drink that burns.” He turned to the jug. was halted by a sudden doubt. In the “ Wonder how many of those temperance roadway Teetotaler was sniffing eagerly at two-fingers are in you?” the cork of the jug. Parker joined him. Dipping the handle of a paint brush into Had the girl been honest in her exchange its small neck, he tested its wet capacity, of promises or was she playing a joke whose indicating the height thereof with a circle brutality she could not know? Was the upon the brown outside. test of his new-found strength at last in his His after-luncheon, clock-timed cultiva¬ possession? tion of the enemy whom he had sworn to His heart beating as it rarely had beat make his friend, somehow brought him lone¬ for woman, he removed the cork. liness, rather than companionship. Why had he traded *in that promise to give up what he had set himself to CHAPTER XVII. achieve—the location, of the Metcalf still? With a little dickering, he might have saved jug’s bottom. himself that diversion and also the whisky. MEVER, felt Calvin Parker, had he He had sold out too cheaply. A single gal¬ 1 ^ painted with such power; certainly lon was no price at all for his word of never with more speed. All afternoon he honor to stay on his side of Roaring Fork had been hard at it, working in an ecstasy until the girl of the hills gave her permission of eagerness and strength. Now, in the that he cross. good-night beams of the sun, he placed his He wished he could see her at once. If easel where the light might reach it best she had not been inclined to believe in him, and backed off to study the new picture to like him, despite her manner, why had >vith emotional, almost worshipful, gaze. she acted as she had done?” 248 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

There had been amusement behind her flower that lifted its face straight to the sun return promise that she would seek him out; from a bank of the winter’s dead leaves? was this at his expense? Would she ever Ah, he had it at last! seek him? She was Spring. That was why she was The eyes of Sylvia’s photograph peered so elusive, yet so strong. That was why her mildly down from the mantel through the smiles suggested tears shed. Her very life smoke, as if asking why he should feel meant past death. She was Spring. To alone, with her in his memory. A surge of him she was Vernaluska, not “ Verney,” but loyalty caused him to pour a draft, generous Verne. as his feeling of apology, and throw it off His rapid sketch was reminiscent of her at a gulp. unexpected appearance that morning from “ So small, so vaguely sweet, so frail—yet the roadside thicket—reminiscent, yet far the great reward of victory,” he toasted her. from literal. No lavender gingham clothed But the response of a photograph was her form, no country shoes her feet. As the necessarily limited. Parker’s sense of lone¬ painter stood now at eventide, surveying his liness increased when the Boomers, having work, a frenzy of gratitude possessed him feasted to repletion on the guests’ share of for the license allowed to art. his lunch, began long absences of carrying From a background of Brush, with only tidbits to the kiddies in the armored pine. here and there a sprouting thing to suggest For the first time he tried to catch them. the season, the girl fleeted toward him on He wanted to pet them, to show them his bare feet, her dazzling body revealed affection. Each time he lunged after them, through a fluttering drapery of young green, however, they barked squeakily, with terror, hands outstretched, eyes side-glancing with and eluded his open hands. Finally they a look of anxiety lest she be outsped, lips scampered over the sill not to reappear. curved with a tremulous, promising smile. “ Why does Vemaluska — you — every¬ Like a veil of spun copper from about and body run away from me?” above her floated backward her hair. Bold¬ From the checkered oilcloth, the mouth ly beneath, Parker painted his title: of the jug grinned in derisive reproach. SPRING IS HERE I “That’s so; there’s you left, friend jug. Beg your pardon.” He bowed humbly and “ And here to stay, you darling, you allowed himself to sip from its good cheer. beauty; here to stay!” he exulted, address¬ Before many more such sips inspiration ing her aloud, adoring her closer and closer came, took charge of a lagging afternoon. in the waning glow from the west door. An attractive idea came to him, grew in “ It’s time to light the night-lights, but you appeal, finally controlled both hands and cannot run away. It’s time for supper— mind. to-night you’ll have to watch me while I Why need he ever be alone, Calvin eat. You cannot mock me any more, you Parker, who was said by the critics to pos¬ cannot deny me. For you’re spring-timq, sess the ability to create personalities from and you can’t help being as sweet to me as tubes, brushes, oils? This ever-fleeing to any other man.” mountain girl—he would catch her on can¬ He spared a moment from her in which vas and make her stay. From first glimpse to be pleased with himself. He lurched he had intended to paint her to attempt about the shack, found and lit the candles. combining that marvelous softness and bril¬ Steadying himself against the mantel-shelf, liancy of her hair. he surprised more than mild interest in What was it which the look of her, the Sylvia’s flower eyes. The approval which spirit of her, the name of her had suggested she would have felt could she have watched all along? him this afternoon beamed on him from the In her was combined delicacy with force, steel print. After she had toasted him, he hope built on fear, life that was young, toasted her. Then, having made his peace alluring, colorful—life that sprang from with her, he drank one more to Verne. Pull¬ what? Why was she like the rhododendron ing his camp-stool close and seating himself, BLUE FLAMES. 249 that he might look up under the lashes of half of the “ bumblings ” before he ate— her timorous eyes, he sipped a wee drop let them sting him into a first-class appetite more while he talked with her. if they could! Another circle of measure¬ He had her at last, tricky jade, he told ment he painted around the brown jug. her. He would not be lonely any more. Gyrating once toward. Sylvia, he antici¬ Let the father and mother shadow tails pated a possible reproach. It was a long, desert him for their squirrelettes in the long way to the bottom of the jug, he told pine; he need not care. She could not her, when a man could paint under its in¬ leave him night or day. The white fire fluence as he had done that p.m. And he from her father’s jug had thrown a flash¬ wanted her clearly to understand that it light on her, had revealed her to him as she was from no interest in the concrete of his was. Her occasional intolerance was her subject that he had been inspired to such protest against the prick of thorns in the results. Vernaluska Metcalf was a beautiful brush from which she came, the hurt of girl, truly, and a girl with lure, probably, stones along her life-path. Now that he for certain men of the wild; but it was the understood her, now that he had caught and spirit behind her personality that he had could hold the spirit of her, she would learn put upon canvas, a conception which her to like to stay. looks merely aided to express. “ You are here—you are mine, youth, “ Y’understand, dear? But of course you power, sentience,” he whispered to her and do!” he apostrophized as glibly as his thick¬ to himself, tears stumbling down his emo¬ ened lips would permit. “ To women I am tional face, even as the liquor drizzled to all artist; to you only, the one woman, am I the floor from the glass in his shaking hand. man. We Parkers love well and once.” “ Do you mind, Verne? Sweet, I hope you To entertain his receptive audience be¬ do not mind!”. came his concern. For them he recited Next moment, remembrance mixed his “ The Rubric of Rum,” a composition of metaphorical intensity. He chuckled in re¬ his own, relic of college days when people assurance, tipped the glass to his lips, let laughed at the tendency which later they the overflow of his hurry mix with the salt- deplored. In this metered effort were con¬ drops on his chin. signed to verse the various excuses offered Had she not been predisposed toward him by various mortals for their libations. They from first sight? If not, why the exertion to drank to warm up in cold weather, they drag him from the mud, to wipe his face, drank to cool down in hot. Good fortune dig out his ears? Why that memorable deserved a celebration, bad luck a beaker smile at the post-office, the visit to his to console. At birth was uncorked sparkling cabin, the silent protectorate of him against wine for the christening, at death sustaining her father’s possible outbreak, her culmi- brandy for the wake. Friendship tipped native presentation of the jug? She was a the loving-cup, enmity the poison-draft of woman; he must make allowances for that; hate. It mattered not, through the vicissi¬ a woman with all and probably more of the tudes of life—thirst supplied his own glib average woman’s contradictory ways. All excuse. mere man could do was to fasten his eyes Parker, declaiming such fragments of his on fact. And every fact, despite her words, literary achievement as came to mind, ges¬ her every act had favored him. ticulated and bowed with animation, if not Supper seemed a prosaic thing by con¬ dramatic effect, first to one, then the other trast with the successive toasts he drank to of his audience. His eyes were fervid; his Verne and himself, so he put it off. Again grin sardonic. By way of realism, he tossed curiosity, keen as anxiety, cause him to dip off a drink with each metered citation. the paint-brush handle into the mouth of What if he did get a bit tipsy reciting the “ bust-head ” jug. At first he felt his “ Rubric of Rum,” he once lapsed into somewhat disconcerted to note that it was prose to argue? Thirst had inspired it—let almost half-empty. Next moment he de¬ thirst then pay the piper! cided that he might as well drink an even The brilliance with which his intemper- 250 ARGQgy AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

ance always had been associated called for over on its side, had rolled to the edge of more lights. In his larder he found an the table and over. But not a drop of unopened candle-box. Dripping grease for liquid wasted from its derisive little mouth. sockets in half a dozen available places, he As it chanced, Calvin Parker had reached proceeded worthily to illuminate the occa¬ the bottom of his jug. sion. Although the effect in the rough- boarded shack was not exactly garish, he Screaming pain awakened his other mind. was pleased. Whole-heartedly, he drank to Ordered by that greater voice, so often the general good-cheer. raised in the cause of drunkards, his body “ Electric-lighted N’York’s got nothing staggered up; the physical of his eyes stared on Fallaway—while the candles last. Here’s about him, crazed from suffering. The can¬ to Spring, who’s brought us life!” dles on the table had burned to stubs, one Before each of his fair, lip-tight guests he sleeve of his coat was smoldering over held a potion; then, in response to their seared flesh. gentle suggestions, obliged by the consump¬ Ordered again, he lunged across the room tion thereof himself. Tacking against the to the water-pail, uttered a gasping cry as headwind of intoxication, he introduced and he sizzled his arm into it, turned and explained one to the other. searched the gloom in a half-conscious fear Who had sent him to the Blue Ridge for lest Verne also be endangered by flame. his own best good, in quest of the “ grip ” He located her, peering at him from the which he had got? His valley lily of the drawing-stand, shy, sweet, reassuring. He conservatoire, his Sylvia. started toward her, meaning to clutch one Who had angered him with her criticism? of the outstretched hands and lay it upon Who but the rhododendron girl. Who had his wound in the conviction that such helped him with her ridicule, had appealed strong, long fingers must have curative with her very aloofness, had diverted his power. But he stopped and glanced behind search for the regional illicit brew, then had at a hostile sound. set at his feet the fiery draft for devils or The back door had blown open, wind was gods? None but Vernaluska, fitly named leveling the flame of such candles as still for a mountain in her mystery and uncom¬ stood. Something had rushed in beside the promising strength, yet wafted over by a wind—something black, darting, winged. spirit as delicious, as balmy, as virile as It batted the walls, struck the puncheon of the winds of early May? the floor, rose in swift, astonishing spirals. “ And you’ll stay, Verne; you’ll stay, It was not Parker’s subconsciousness that won’t you, Verne?” he cried in a recurrence apprehended the nature of the disturbance of maudlin entreaty. which was shaking him with fear more Emotion wobbled his knees. He lurched hideous than the pain of his arm. The sidewise into a chair beside the table, small, awakening fraction of his conscious stretched both arms across its checkered mind, rather, bade him leap after it in oilcloth toward the radiant being stepping urgent terror—terror not so much for him¬ so daintily, fearsomely, shyly toward him. self as for Verne, who had come to stay. “You’ve brought me life — you’ll not The thing which had entered was an take it away?” he sobbed. “ You’ll stay enemy airplane, the purpose of the demon at with me and like me and let me like you? the controls to seize and bear away his spirit Couldn’t you promise me never, never to of Spring. Deviously, to confuse him, it was go?” darting hither and yon, but its objective His face fell into his clutching hands. could not be in doubt. So; he would meet The shoulders built for such strength shud¬ artifice with superior artifice! dered weakly, then held still. Only a wag¬ Don Quixote had fought windmills—a gle of the dark, attractive head resented small issue compared with the tilt in pros¬ a sudden crash that sounded from the pect. One aviator would wish he never had puncheon floor. quite his airdrome. With a bestial snarl of The gallon container had been knocked challenge, Parker crouched low near the BLUE FLAMES. 251

canvas. Just let this winged intruder make enjoy, as she tried to do, their service to the attempt—let him swoop nearer if he the family. dared! Crushed fuselage, twisted tail, and “ Pretend like we’re taking a pleasure broken wings—into what a wreck would the voyage. The woods are an ocean of per¬ machine be twisted! The shock-absorber fume. You-uns, Sol, are my boat.” or stabilizer was not built that could with¬ She breathed deeply the salt, crisp tonic stand the superman, Cal Parker, under of green in the shrubbery that already threat of the unspeakable deprivation. surged over the ridgeside—the dogwood The thing approached, evidently banking blossoms that gleamed like phosphorescence for an easy turn. The moment for counter¬ on southern seas; the varitinted azaleas attack was about to come—had come. that flamed atop, wave after wave, as of With all the power of his vitriol-fed limbs, burning oil on the surface of a gently swell¬ Parker shot into the air. He reached, be ing sea. clutched the outspread wings of the enemy Making a considerable detour into a sun¬ plane. He brought it down. With giant- lit meadow, where thrived certain tall, strong fingers, he crushed and tore it as black-hearted yellow flowers, she consulted together they fell. Only when sure that it the popular necromancer known as “ Susan ” would never move again, did he collapse, in on love. After reaching down for a flower, a deathlike sprawl, upon the floor. she began to tear off its yellow rays. “ Does—don’t. Me—another. Does— don’t. Me—another. Does—don’t.” Thus CHAPTER XVIII. she chanted as she pulled. The destruction of the daisy, excusable SPRING IS HERE. from its heartfelt purpose, continued until 'T'HE day was new-born, fragrant of but one ray clung to the black heart of breath, dewy-eyed. From the Metcalf wizardry. This she withdrew tenderly and clearing rode a colorful maid upon a white, pressed to her lips. red-legged steed—Vernaluska and Solomon, “ He loves me!” she cried in so trium¬ starting betimes to a full day’s work. phant a voice that a near-by pine warbler They did not, however, turn into the well- performed a spiral and the beast under worn path on the homestead side of Roaring obligation to his name to be so wise cut Fork that led to the clay-bank studio. Tuck¬ quite a caper by way of celebration. ing up her green “ habit ” around her lifted When Solomon was hidden at the mouth feet, the rider put the little beast to the of Scape-cat Run, Vernaluska approached stream. With only a waggle of the longest the cabin on the Rim with the usual caution ears in captivity did Solomon protest her of her matutinal watch. She found a lapsing guidance. Then he dipped his slim legs into silence that had not been the rule of other the flood, felt with care for loose or slippery mornings. Fear clutched her—a fear which stones, gallantly convoyed across the mis¬ the presence of the pinto stamping in his tress who could decide no wrong. Into shed could not reassure. the woodsy trail on the other side he padded Had the out-Norther for once slipped with a noiseless, swinging gait. away before her arrival? Had he suspected From the first Vernaluska had fulfilled that other reason behind her presentation with system and good-cheer the duties of of the jug? Under condonation of his the office which she had won against such official duty had he broken his word to her odds. Any inherent repugnance for the by starting at dawn to run down the family act of spying had been promptly allayed by still? She stepped into the open, crossed a thought of still more repugnant possibili¬ the small clearing, and entered the cabin’s ties, had not the mercurial Sandyred, Rex back door. Currie and her father been overcome in After the brilliant sunlight without, the discussion. So now she leaned forward to windowless interior seemed dark. The girl tickle Solomon’s forehead in the spot of peered along the side of the room that keenest mule delight, and adjured him to came first into focus. The bunk was in- 252 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. eluded in her glance—an empty bunk. Her The face—it was hers! Idealized, strange face showed self-reproach over her dilatori¬ from its look of commingled fear and prom¬ ness. What sort of a one-man guard was ise, whitened to a dazzling purity—yet hers she who risked so much on an assumption, beyond a doubt. And the hair—none could even though since yesterday it had strength¬ mistake her hair! ened into hope? Vernaluska’s admiration died in a flare of Was he, after all, what they said he was? resentment. How dared he paifit her in If so, of course he wouldn’t wait around for this shameless garb, the out-North spy? her to outslick him! What had she said, what done to give his She took a forward step,,noted the long- imagination license? Well was it that she cold ashes of the hearth; the table in the had come to his empty shack to discover center of the room, untidy with glasses and this desecration of her modesty! greased over with small hillocks of burned mOn the floor just below the canvas lay a candles. Gingerly she stepped among the palette, still thick with paint. Upon the chairs which surrounded the table, one still table were brushes. Stooping, she. gathered on all fours, two on -their sides. Perplexity them up. No artist in oils was she, yet she caught her that a man so immaculate should must fashion a dress to cover the lovely live in such disorder. body. She would leave a sight of her visit Then something really disturbing caught calculated to show this man from lewd h€r eye. From the far side of the room a civilization the decency to be learned in the girl creature in none too many clothes hills! seemed speeding directly toward her. Her brush was dipped, her anri forward “ Spring is here,” she read in golden letters stretched, describing the line with which to at the elfin creature’s feet. In a flash she begin her reconstruction, when a sound grasped the vitality of the conception, startled her. Tinning, she saw what she stepped closer to admire. The flesh-tones had not seen before in the far corner of the gleaming through the veil of green; the long, room. yet rounded limb-lines; the young bust; A gasp escaped her lips. The palette the outstretched hands—all held her in a and brush she dropped to stifle other outcry breathless sensation of something precious with her hands. She sprang back, then to her and familiar. turned Jo face the thing upon the floor. (To be continued NEXT WEEK.)

A SIMPLE SONG

“ IF I could stand,” the poet said, * “ Upon yon mountains distant crest, And catch the songs from overhead, My soul no more would sigh for rest.”

He stood upon the lonely height, And heard the singing of the spheres; He caught the music in its flight, And sent it ringing down the years.

But no one listened to the strain That echoed from the far away; “Alas!” he cried, “my toil is vain; Tod grand these songs for such as they,’1 And then he softly touched his lyre . And. sang a song so wild and sweet, Of bleeding hope and dead desire— And lo! the world was at. his feet. James C. Rockwell. I. of years, had welcomed him. Sometimes Harding had watched the Chinaman play, R. FU CHEN to see you, sir.” with a few companions in the inner room, Rob Harding looked up from unending games of fan tan. He had wanted his desk. It was a mahogany to join in the games; but Fu Chen would desk. Probably it had cost McKestry & not let him. Squires a round sum when it was bought. Harding had outgrown the fruits and It stood with several others neatly ranged punk sticks. He had come to wonder how against the wall in the space allotted to the the Chinaman worked so constantly over junior employees of the investment house. the ironing-board. He would have won¬ Harding’s papers were placed in orderly dered more if he knew how many nights piles—correspondence and customers’ files. the laundryman spent over the roulette or McKestry & Squires liked to see a well stuss tables in the gambling joints of the arranged desk. lower Bowery. “ Who?” ss^id Harding. But Fu Chen’s ancestors had passed their The office boy grinned. Harding was lives in pushing wheelbarrows equipped with popular with him. wind sails and loaded with cotton bales “ It’s a Mr. Fu Chen—a Chinaman. But sufficient to weigh down four mules; or in he don’t wear no pigtail. He says he knows laboring at the oar of a river junk. They you—” were tireless workers, and equally tireless “ Oh, Fu Chen. Bring him right in.” gamblers. Both these characteristics were Harding smiled. Years ago when he had Fu Chen’s. been old enough to go alone to school and When Harding married and set up house¬ young enough to play hooky, he had fre¬ keeping, Molly, his wife, had objected to quently spent hours at the laundry of Fu sending the family laundry to the small and Chen, around the corner from his home. perhaps not altogether sanitary shop of Fu The Chinaman had given -him dried, Chen. Harding, remembering the sugared sugared fruits of strange vintage to eat, and ginger and punk sticks of his boyhood days, incense sticks to play with. Also, Harding had overruled her objections. had delighted* in watching the laundryman Once Molly had visited the Chinaman. paint queer crosses and lines on the parcels “ You have plenty children soon, Mrs. of clothes. It had been a secure refuge. Molly,” beamed Fu Chen. “ I give them Later, he had formed the habit of drop¬ plenty joss sticks, you bet.” ping in for a word or two with Fu Chen. Thereafter Molly had sent the maid when Harding, from boyhood up, had the gift of she had business to transact with Fu Chen. making friends. Fu Chen, who did not Harding had laughed when she told him seem to alter in the least with the passage about the episode. “ He’s a good old chap,” 253 254 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

he said. “ He’d be hurt if I sent the wash pocket and scanned it while Fu Chen to one of these new steam laundries.” counted out the hundred and ten dollars. Harding had seen little of the Chinaman, Among the quotations for that day had once he became a bond salesman. Molly, been a number of low-priced railroad stocks. because the laundry was neatly done and It was a year when rails were out of favor. promptly, ceased to remark upon the evils Tampa and Quimberly common caught his of “ that Chinaman’s place.” Then, on an eye. This particular stock was christened evening when Harding was hurrying past Tee and Que by the traders—T. & Q. on the laundry to his home, Fu Chen had the tape. trotted out and stopped him. He asked “ It may be lucky,” he observed humor¬ Harding into his shop—into the back room. ously. “ Tee and Que—a Chinese name. “ You invlest money?” he asked. Eh, Fu Chen?” “ Why, yes,” assented the bond salesman, ►You buy it,” decided that gentleman surprised. “ That’s my business; when I promptly. The word luck stands for a can find anybody with money to invest.” great reality with the superstitious China¬ Fu Chen beamed. He said, in his broken man. No buck negro coaxing his dice was English, that the Harding maid had gos¬ more a servant of the fickle god than Fu siped about her master’s business. He had Chen. been thinking, he added. Harding had bought it. T. & Q., he “ You invlest money me?” he inquired reasoned, was selling at six dollars and a anxiously. “ Hundled, ten dol-lar?” few cents a share. Naturally, the road was Now McKestry & Squires were not ac¬ bankrupt, and in about as bad a condition customed to handling amounts under the as could be imagined. Nothing more could thousands. The firm’s clients were among very well happen to it, reasoned Harding. the notables of New York. Harding had If it could not get worse, it might get better. wondered how Fu Chen had come to ac¬ Anyway, if the venture turned out badly, cumulate a hundred and ten dollars. Usu¬ he would pay Fu Chen the hundred and ten ally, he remembered, the laundryman out of his own pocket. So he purchased, squandered his earnings at the gaming through an odd-lot house, eighteen shares table. of T. & Q., and gave the certificate to “ I might,” he considered, “ on my own Fu Chen. account. What kind of an investment have And promptly forgot about it. you in mind?” Not so the Chinaman. From time to Fu Chen’s smile broadened. Savings time he would remind Harding of the “ in- banks, he explained, were no good. He had vlestment.” put in some money once, and when he had Now it happened that the rails came into taken it out it had been the same amount, favor with the buying public again. Many neither more nor less—to his disappoint¬ were found who thought along the lines ment. that Harding had reasoned out. T. & Q. “ You know how,” he concluded. “ I rose. After a year it was quoted at four¬ give you hundled, ten dol-lar; you give me teen dollars a share. more seme time, maybe.” Harding had explained this to Fu Chen. “ In other words,” Harding laughed, The Chfcaman understood — and bought “ you want to speculate in stocks, Fu more of T. & Q. It was lucky; and when Chen.” the devils of chance smiled on Fu Chen he Harding, being an intelligent young man was not one to keep them waiting. with a wife to support, had not touched From time to time during the next few speculation. He knew the odds against years Fu Chen had Harding buy more of making money at that game, the heavy T. & Q.—ten or twelve shares at a time. odds against the man who “ takes a flier in Harding had taught the Chinaman to watch stocks.” However, it was part of his pro¬ the quotations in the stock reports and in¬ fession to know the stock-market. He took terpret them. out the evening paper that he had in his But never before to-day had Fu Chen A CHINAMAN’S CHANCE. 255

ventured to call at the office of McKestry it is a good time to sell T. & Q. He has & Squires. Harding had confided the story quite a number of the shares, you know. of the investment to the members of the A man at one of the gambling joints on the firm. It had become something of a joke Bowery offered him cash for the stock— in the house. Time—notwithstanding pop¬ and more than the present quotations.” ular belief to the contrary—frequently “ T. & Q. sold yesterday at thirty-one hangs heavily on the hands of investment and a half,” commented the junior partner agents. Harding would be asked: “ How’s gravely. “ What did the—the gambler chap the Chink’s stock?” “ Going strong,” he offer you?” would reply, laughing. Fu Chen ejaculated two words which He looked up with curiosity as Fu Chen Harding translated as “ Thirty-five dol¬ entered. lars.” II. Squires’s level eyebrows rose. “ I never knew any one to offer money The Chinaman was dressed in a decent that he didn’t expect to get back, some¬ black coat, and black fedora. His broad¬ how, Fu Chen. Don’t sell.” toed shoes were polished, and he wore a Fu Chen ducked his head. “ You say dark silk handkerchief in place of a collar. so? All light.” He bowed with embarrassed politeness, and He turned as if to go when Squires remained standing — refusing the chair checked him. Harding offered him. “ Funny about that cash offer, Harding. “ Glad to see you,” observed the sales¬ Now, if T. & Q. was an oil stock—hold on. man. “ What can I do for you?” He Come here a minute.” guessed that it must be something important He led the two out to where a ticker was to bring Fu Chen into the portals of a place rapping out the day’s quotations. He like the office of McKestry & Squires. skimmed the tape through his fingers with “ I want see you, Mr. Bob — vellee the skill of long practise. And showed much.” Harding a figure. Fu Chen launched into his tale at once. “ Thought so. T. & Q.’s at thirty-four A strange tale it was, full of eloquent ges¬ and a quarter, and strong. Now what tures, apologies, and butchered English. made it jump three points overnight?” Harding listened attentively. When the Fu Chen eyed the ticker with intent Chinaman had finished, he rose. wonderment. It was a sort of magic, he “ I think Mr. Squires may be able to thought—a machine that talked of itself. tell you what you want to know, Fu Chen. He waited impassively while Squires and I can’t.” Harding went to the news ticker and con¬ He left the room, returning presently ferred. with the junior partner. Fu Chen bowed, “ Congratulations, Fu Chen,” said the not once but several times, in recognition junior partner, coming back. “ The news Of the cutaway that Squires wore. is out. Guess your friend saw it in the “ This is my friend, Mr. Fu Chen,” in¬ late editions last night. Oil has been struck troduced Harding. along the right-of-way of the T. & Q. The The, junior partner smiled. “ We’ve railroad runs through one of the richest heard of you,” he said. oil regions of the West. The stock will be He had humorous gray eyes that lighted worth double its present figure in a month.” in friendly fashion. Fu Chen’s embar¬ The Chinaman hardly understood this, rassment deepened. The Chinaman had not but Harding interpreted. expected to see an individual who, he “ Your luck’s good, Fu Chen,” he said. thought, was plainly by reason of his stout¬ “ You hold T. & Q.—tight. Maybe you ness and long-tailed coat, one of the upper- get seventy dollars for it in a month. Don’t class mandarins. sell to any one, unless I tell you to. How “ As nearly as I can gather,” explained many shares have you?” Harding, “ Mr. Fu Chen wants to know if “ Shares?” Fu Chen thought. “ Thirty.” 256 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ I didn’t know you had so much. Well, cause there would soon be three in the you’ll be rich before long—have a lot of family. money.” Harding drew out a piece of note-paper. When Fu Chen had made his smiling He smiled, recalling what Fu Chen had once exit and Squires had returned to his sanc¬ said to Molly—that she would soon have tum, Harding went back to his desk. Fu children. Idly, he noted down on the paper Chen had been lucky, he thought. Well, a rough statement of his—as he put it to he was glad. He wished, thbugh, that he himself humorously—assets and liabilities. might have had some of T. & Q. himself. Under “ assets ” he wrote down the three He and Molly had just bought a house in hundred in the bank. And his salary, as the suburbs. It had cost a good deal, and “ current income.” • Harding’s bank balance had suffered ac¬ Under liabilities he put the monthly rent cordingly. of his new house. He had bought it on the That night T. & Q. closed at thirty-nine. usual plan—one half down in cash, the rest The next day and the next it rose some to be paid in the form of rent. And he more. The territory around the small, one . added a round sum, “ for Molly’s personal ' tracli, line had developed oil in quantity. account in the near future.” The T. & Q. trains were again in full opera¬ He surveyed the paper with grave ap¬ tion. Better, the railroad company owned proval. A printed slip among his letters one of the big gushers. caught his eye. It was a notice from his T. & Q. continued its steady rise. Oil bank that his note for twenty-five hundred stocks were selling high. The Street began dollars was due within a week. to talk of possible dividends on the T. & Q. Harding had forgotten the note. He There were rumors of a melon about to be could afford to smile at the printed form. cut by the once despised line. It had been a favor to a friend. Ed Commission houses began to telegraph Wheeler, a college chum, had started busi¬ their clients that T. & Q. was a good thing. ness recently in New York as a real-estate Western wire houses bought of it heavily. broker. Wheeler had needed some money It was doubly attractive, for it was both a a couple of months ago, and Harding had railroad and oil stock. signed his name to the note for twenty-five A week after Fu Chen’s visit to Mc- hundred that Wheeler had discounted at Kestry & Squires, T. & Q. touched sixty. their bank. Jt was in great demand, and those who had “ Wheeler’s just about as honest as they the stock were keeping it. make ’em,” he thought to himself, “ and his “ Your Chink friend has a good thing,” business as good as—well, three hundred commented McKestry, who had heard per cent good. He was a stranger at the about the visit, in passing. “ Why not buy bank, that’s all.” him out? He’d sell to you.” There was no reason for Harding to “ No thanks,” refused Harding. “ It’s worry about payment of the note. Wheeler his investment. It’s good for a big rise. had the money, or would have when the They’re talking of eight per cent dividend time came to pay off the twenty-five hun¬ on the common stock—” dred. He—Harding—had lunched with McKestry passed on with an assenting him only the other day. nod, and Harding leaned back in his chair, He scribbled down the twenty-five hun¬ well content. He was glad thatx Fu Chen dred under “ liabilities.” Then crossed it was going to make some money. Abruptly, out. McKestry & Squires would not ap¬ he frowned. The thought of money re¬ prove of his backing another man’s note. It minded him that his balance at the bank was one of the rules of the firm. Perhaps was down to some three hundred dollars. that was because McKestry & Squires did Then his brow lightened. After all, he not want trouble over money matters among had his salary. And he and Molly had their employees. bought the home in the suburbs. They An investment house has to be jealous of would need that home, because, well, be¬ its publicity, Harding thought indulgently. A CHINAMAN’S CHANCE. 257

It was as much as his job was worth, if took out the slip from the bank and read it McKestry knew of the note. But the through again. When he left the office transaction would be closed in a few days. that night his face was grave. Meanwhile— m. He tore up his mock balance sheet and went to seek his hat. He would lunch with But it was not all right. And Harding Ed Wheeler. Perhaps he would tell him knew it. When a note is due at the bank, that Molly was going to have a son, or that note must be paid. Harding had signed daughter. his name to the note. If Wheeler did not Smiling at the reflection, he sought for bring the money to the bank, he—Harding his friend among the tables of the place —must pay the twenty-five hundred dollars. where they lunched. Wheeler had not come And he did not have twenty-five hundred in yet. Harding inquired for him casually dollars. He was worried. Wheeler must of the proprietor of the restaurant. have made an arrangement for paying the “ Ain’t you heard?” asked that indi¬ money. But Wheeler—as he learned when vidual. “ Mr. Wheeler was run down by he visited the hospital, on the second day— a motor-car this morning. He’s in the hos¬ was not able to see any one. pital, badly hurt.” A fracture of the skull, even slight, is a Harding whistled softly. Ed Wheeler serious matter. There had been an opera¬ was one of his best friends. He went to-the tion. His friend was in a semiconscious phone in the lunch-room and called up the state, and had not yet spoken a word. hospital the other had named. “ Ask him about business?” the physician When he left the phone his face was snorted. “ Man, you’re crazy. Impossible. serious. Wheeler was severely injured. He It will be a week, if all goes well, before we was unconscious, suffering from concussion. let him talk at all. Maybe you can see him A fracture of the skull was feared. Wheeler in ten days—” might die or he might live. But he was “ I understand,” nodded Harding. very ill. “ Well, don’t worry him about my visit.” Not until then did Harding recall the From the hospital he went to the bank. note he and Wheeler had signed. He fin¬ A brief question there told him what he ished his lunch hastily and went out. From wanted to know. The bank expected pay¬ a near-by booth he called up Wheeler’s ment of the note when it was due. Not a office. He inquired whether his friend had renewal, but payment. If Wheeler could left instructions for the payment of the note not pay, Harding would be called upon. when it fell due. A clerk answered him. Not until then did the bond salesman Wheeler had left no instructions. He allow himself to realize that he was in a fix. attended to such things himself. “ A devil of a fix, too,” he thought grim¬ “ But you know about the note,” re¬ ly. “ Twenty-five hundred dollars’ worth.”. turned Harding. “ It has got to be paid.” He took out a sheet of scrap-paper and “ I did not know of it, sir.” figured on it. He had three hundred in the ‘‘ You have the cash in the office safe, or bank. His salary for the week would add somewhere, to pay it with?” a little more. An advance on his salary There was a pause. Then— for the next month would add more. The “■ No, sir. We have only a little cash total was only five hundred. here. Mr. Wheeler would know—” And, meanwhile, he and Molly had to “ He can’t be reached now.” Harding live. He had said nothing to her about frowned uneasily. “ Look here: can you the note. He must not worry her now. raise twenty-five hundred in six days?” There was the home in the suburbs, of Not that I know of, sir. Mr. Wheeler course. But—Molly had just finished put¬ must have arranged it himself.” ting the last touches to the hangings and “ I see.” Harding hesitated. “ All right.” furniture. They were planning to move in He returned to McKestry & Squires. as soon as she should be able to. As soon This time he did not forget the note. He as the Harding family numbered three. 6 Argosy 258 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Molly had set her heart on the country months. It was akin to no other sensation home. She would need the change of air. that Fu Chen knew—that brief moment by She must keep the home. Harding tore up the roulette table. Fu Chen, perhaps, sus¬ the paper, and there was a dogged set to pected that the wheel did not always re¬ his good-natured mouth as he did so. volve fairly; but he did not cease trying The next day or two went badly for him. for what Harding had dubbed the big play. Only once did he have occasion to smile. IV. Fu Chen came in. The Chinaman wore a new celluloid col¬ Two days passed without change in lar with a tie of gorgeous hues. This, Wheeler’s condition. Harding inquired at coupled with a derby hat, was a sign of un¬ the hospital, and learned that his friend wonted prosperity. He grinned at Harding. was conscious but unable to speak. Wheeler T. & Q., said Fu Chen, was at eighty. would recover. Harding was gladdened by It had more than doubled its price in the this news. It left him, however, alone to last few days. meet the note that was due in two days. “ You’re lucky,” smiled Harding. He had figured it all out. He could get “ Why, you own thirty shares. At eighty five hundred dollars together, neither more that’s a good deal of money. Hang on to nor less. To borrow two thousand among T. & Q.” his friends was out of the question. To “You bet!” assented Fu Chen forcibly. ask it of McKestry, equally so. The invest¬ Harding asked if he had closed the laun¬ ment house, in spite of personal friendship, dry. Fu Chen seemed surprised. Why could not afford to make good a bad debt should he? He needed money for fan-tan. of an employee. “ Still trying to make the ‘ big play,’ eh?” The two days would pass, the bank would Fu Chen said he was, and departed, with summon him for an accounting. They a curious look at Harding. For a second would confiscate his small stock of cash, the Chinaman had hesitated, as if about and force the sale of the home in the to ask a question. suburbs. And Molly needed both money Harding turned back to his desk silently. and a home. No one except Harding knew The “ big play ” he had mentioned had how badly she needed them. been something of a joke with them. For He looked up quickly from his desk as years, with the patient expectancy of the McKestry appeared at his side. He won¬ Oriental gambler, Fu Chen had staked his dered if McKestry had heard of the note. money at the roulette table. Whenever Bad news travels swiftly. But the senior he had twenty dollars gleaned from his partner had something else on his mind. laundry work, or more likely his fan-tan, “ By the way,” observed McKestry, and the Chinaman would stake it for the big paused. Harding’s pulse quickened. “ I’ve play—a hundred-to-one chance. If the lit¬ learned something about T. & Q., Harding. tle ball in the roulette wheel should fall That stock has climbed all it’s going to. into the pocket he had wagered on, he The oil boom is up to its peak. And the would be rich. Otherwise, he lost his money. T. & Q. aren’t going to pay any dividends. He had always lost. The stock will break a dozen points when Harding had never understood why Fu the bad news gets out. Better tell your Chen wanted to throw good money after client, Mr. Fu Chen, to sell out now while bad in this fashion. At fan-tan or dice, the selling’s good—” thrown in the bowl, Chinese fashion, Fu “ Thanks,” nodded Harding. “ I will.” Chen could have an evening’s sport, and win He dictated a letter in one syllable words or lose five or ten dollars. But at roulette— to Fu Chen and sent it to the laundry by a whirl of the wheel and he was broke for messenger. An hour brought the Chinaman another four or five months. to the office with his stock certificates. But Harding did not know the Chinese If Harding said it was time to sell, Fu gambling soul. Or the thrill that comes in Chen was content. His luck had been good. watching a whirl of the wheel once in four Meanwhile, Harding had telephoned the A CHINAMAN’S CHANCE. 259

Order to sell thirty T. & Q. at the market. family is an event more important than The sale went through before noon, while marriage or death or anything else. Hard¬ the stock was still strong. Harding got ing laughed. eighty-five for the stock. Then the un¬ “ That’s why I wish I’d had some of your favorable rumors began to flood into the T. & Q., Fu Chen. It would come in handy Street. now.” T. & Q. wavered, and broke. On the Although he had laughed, his eyes were ticker, Harding saw it drop to eighty-one. mirthless and there were hard lines about It closed at seventy-eight, a loss of seven his mouth—lines that had gathered in the points for the day. But Fu Chen had sold past week. Fu Chen studied him. He had out. all an Oriental’s keen observation, and he Harding, knowing that the Chinaman had known Harding for many years. could not cash a check, had the amount in “ You need money?” He thrust gnarled cash. He counted the bills and placed them hands into his sleeves and leaned closer. in one of the McKestry & Squires en¬ “ You likee some money, Mr. Bob?” velopes. As he did so he thought fleetingly “ I’d like some,” admitted the salesman. that he might lie to Fu Chen—say some¬ “ I never needed it quite as badly as I do thing had happened to delay the sale. The now, Fu Chen.” Chinaman would believe whatever he said. “ How much you want?” Yes, Fu Chen would accept what money “ Two thousand or more.” ' Harding gave him without question. And Fu Chen nodded thoughtfully. His the salesman needed the money—badly. glance strayed to the pile of bills.' The The temptation passed as quickly as it had gods of luck presiding over the foreigners at come. The money was Fu Chen’s. Hard¬ McKestry & Squires had put this money ing could not take it. in his hand. It was possible, thought Fu He sealed the envelope, marked it with Chen, that these same gods had proved un¬ Fu Chen’s name, and put it in his pocket. lucky for Harding. Moreover, the Harding On his way home that evening he stopped maid had gossiped—about doctors and the at the laundry of Fu Chen. He found the bills they sent. Fu Chen understood this. Chinaman in black silk jadket and sandals “ They cuttee you—you pay ’em thousand bending over the ironing board. dol-lar,” he had observed sagely to the “ Here’s your money, Fu Chen,” he said. maid. Count it.” Then he told Harding something. He— A gleam of interest crept into the China¬ Fu Chen—had money. He was rich, thanks man’s stolid face as he fingered the yellow to the strange gamble of the talking ma¬ bills. He looked at Harding. “ Velly chine—the stock ticker—and the help of good invlestment.” Harding. He would give some of this “ I should say so,7 nodded the salesman money to Mr. Bob. As much as that gen¬ briefly, intent on “his own thoughts. “ You tleman needed. Payment could wait. were lucky.” It was a long speech for Fu Chen, and “ Thankee you, Mr. Bob.” Fu Chen it taxed his scanty supply of English. Hard¬ ducked his head in the manner that his ing was silent for a moment. father might have kotowed before a “ How long have you worked in this friendly mandarin. Getting no response, he laundry?” he asked abruptly. glanced at his visVtor curiously from slant Fu Chen shook his head. His ideas of eyes. He plied his iron for a moment; then time were hazy. laid it down with decision. “ You and “ Well, it’s fifteen or twenty years. And Mrs. Molly catchem boy soon, maybe.” ypu’ve worked hard. I know.” Harding He grinned. “Velly good: you bet!” smiled, not altogether cheerfully. “ You’ll Harding started. Fu Chen explained that need that money, Fu Chen. If you gave he had learned as much from the gossip of it to me, there’s no telling how long it the maid who called for the laundry. would be before you got it back again. No, Among Chinese the advent of a boy in the you keep that money. Put it in the sav- 260 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

ings bank. Don’t try to make the big hand organ resounded from a winding street play with it.” in which flared the inviting summons of a He took up his hat and moved toward mission sign. Near him echoed the song of the door. But his words stirred Fu Chen the tireless Salvation Army followers. into sudden activity. The Chinaman’s All these Fu Chen heeded not. He eyes widened slightly and he touched Hard¬ slipped quietly up the Bowery for two or ing’s arm. three blocks. His wrinkled face was ex¬ “ You got twenty dol-lar?” he asked pressionless; his back bent from the toil of eagerly. the laundry; his hands hidden in his sleeves. Harding nodded. To-day had been pay¬ Only a slight widening of the faded, slant day. eyes showed that Fu Chen sought some¬ “ You give me that twenty dol-lar.” thing of unusual interest near the narrow “ Haven’t you got enough?” streets which are the entrance to China¬ Yes, Fu Chen had enough. But— town. “ I invlest it,” he explained vehemently. At a comer saloon he looked up quickly Harding declined good-naturedly. at the windows of the second floor. A dingy “ No, thanks.” sign proclaimed a pool-parlor. He entered Fu Chen, however, persisted. He wanted a hallway, but did not seek the pool-room. Harding to give him that twenty dollars. On the third floor of the structure he Only for a day or two. He had an idea, he knocked at a door over which sputtered a said. What it was he would not say. gas-jet. The door opened at once, and Fu Eventually Harding, who had other cares Chen slipped inside. It was a stuss joint, on his mind, gave him the money, and left patronized by the dime sports of the lower the laundry. East Side. V. Fu Chen crossed to a beer-table where a mixed group of negroes, white sailors, and That evening when it was too dark to Chinamen were watching the fall of dice in work, Fu Chen put aside his iron. Usually a bowl. Here Fu Chen drew a hand from, at this time he lighted the gas and kept on his sleeves and deposited some silver on the at his labor. To-night he did not do so. table. The dice were silently given him In the cubby behind the laundry he ex¬ and he rolled them. A moment more and changed his sandals for street shoes, and he drew back. His silver was gone. A thrust a packet of cheap cigarettes into the drunken Norwegian elbowed him to one breast of his blouse. Taking up his hat he side. stepped out into the street, locking the door Fu Chen merely glanced at the man after him. He lit one of the cigarettes and fleetingly and withdrew from the circle. He glanced up at a neighboring clock. It was stood back against the wall, and waited. the hour when white people would be sitting It was early. '-Too early for Fu Chen’s down to their dinners. But Fu Chen was purpose. not hungry. An hour later Fu Chen left the stuss The street lamps had glimmered forth, game and sought an alley off the street. and the shadows gathered in the hallways. At the end of the alley was a cigar-store, Fu Chen ascended the steps to the Elevated, odorous of dirt and tobacco trimmings. The and seated himself in a down-town train. proprietor, a stout man in shirt sleeves and At South Ferry he changed to an up-town, suspenders nodded to him, and he pushed East Side train, threading his way through through the curtain that shielded an inner the crowd of belated commuters bound for room. the ferry. Here there was less noise than at the At Chatham Square he descended to the stuss game. Men gathered around a table noise and glare of the lower Bowery. Here looked up quickly at his entrance and let he was in familiar surroundings. Blue clad their gaze wander back to a wheel which Chinamen brushed past him, with gangs of spun and clicked on the table. Less silver seamen, and throngs of loafers. A strident and more bills were in evidence here. A CHINAMAN’S CHANCE. 261

Fu Chen patiently edged his way to the He passed by the poker-tables and the roulette wheel, and watched for a moment. roulette outfits. Dice were falling in one Presently his hand reached out and dropped corner, and here Fu Chen stopped. He a roll of bills on a certain square of the noted the yellow bills that lay on the board, table. The man at the wheel glanced up at the fashionable clothes of the men, and him and nodded fleetingly. edged nearer. “ Twenty,” said Fu Chen, and waited. A red-faced individual wearing a purple Others made their plays. The wheel spun, tie was chewihg at a cigar and fumbling the marble clicked, rolled and came to a with dice—evidently well seasoned in drink. halt. Beside him sat a well-dressed youth, ap¬ Fu Chen shook his head slightly. The parently half asleep, except for deep breaths wrinkles in his grave face deepened. The of a cigarette stuck to his lip. Fu Chen man at the wheel swept up his twenty pointed to the dice and exhibited a small dollars. Fu Chen withdrew from the table. roll of green bills. Again he passed the fat man in the cigar- “Hello, here’s a Chink!” The man of store. This time he paused at the alley the purple tie chuckled and nudged his entrance. From the Bowery came the hum companion. “ Small change, John, but— of the late evening throng, echoing the here we go. Watch us, boys!” He rattled rattle of the Elevated and the stentorian the dice. “ Read ’em and shed tears.” voice of the conductor of a rubberneck Fu Chen said nothing. At the end of bus which rumbled by with paper lanterns five minutes he had won double his few at its prow. The Salvation Army song had bills. The red-faced man muttered under long been silenced. his breath. Fu Chen stood patiently, his sharp face “ Say, don’t tease me wid them ones and turning slowly from side to side as if quest¬ twos. Let’s have real action.” He fumbled ing. He had not yet found what he wanted. in his pocket and drew out a twenty. He had wagered and lost Harding’s twenty “ Come on, John. Let’s see you grab that dollars. He was not yet satisfied. boy.” He swore softly and licked his cigar. While he watched, several taxis halted in Fu Chen had thrown high dice every time. front of one of the larger saloons. Fu “ Say ”—his hand came out empty from his Chen saw a touring-car discharge its group pocket, and he turned to the man with the of men into the saloon. Then another. cap and cigarette—“ lend me a century.” Fu Chen’a head lifted. It was midnight. “ Nix,” replied that person calmly. ' The men were arriving from the up-town “ Your luck’s bad. The Chink’s got your theater section. number.” Fu Chen followed one of the groups into Fu Chen drew a sibilant breath. Ignor¬ the saloon. They passed through the rear ing his late opponent, he showed a thick parlor where some women of the street wad of bills and nodded at the man with were chattering in strident gaiety to a party the cap. of boys from up-town. Fu Chen paid no “ You play high?” he suggested quickly. attention to them. Up-stairs he followed “ I got money—five hundled, maybe more. his guides, into a smoke-filled, brightly You likee shoot ’em some?” lighted room where a dozen tables held their His bland face was impassive. But his throngs of men. black eyes were intent, with the sharp eager¬ Here the noise was unrestricted. In the ness of a fox that scents something in the pages of the newspapers, and in the state¬ wind. Others around the table looked at ments of the police, the lid was on the the two. Bowery gambling joints. But this place “ Fu Chen’s got a roh,” said one. “ Take stood in with the police, under guise of a him on, Joe.” private club. Fu Chen did not smile as he The youth of the cigarette hesitated. He tendered a dollar bill to a powerful indi¬ liked better to back a sure thing—such as vidual at the door and received a ticket the earnings of the girls in the outer parlor, entitling him to membership in the club. who were his property. Still, Fu Chen had 262 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

attracted attention to him, and he did not “You going to let that good coin get by like to back down publicly. you? And a Chinaman at that? I’ll call “ Sure,” he said indifferently, tossing his bluff.” down five hundred in bills in front of him. The speaker beckoned to his friends. A “ Get a bowl, John, and roll ’em. I’m wid brief consultation, and three of the auto you. Quick stuff for mine. Two outer party produced eighteen hundred in cash three rolls takes the candy.” between them. Fu Chen had not meant to Fu Chen’s eyes narrowed as he tossed bluff. He handed his money to Stetly, the first dice into the bowl. motioning for the other to do the same. “ Pair of threes,” muttered the man of ■White Jack pocketed the bills. Word of the purple tie. “ Come on, Joe. You can the bet spread through the room and the beat—” other tables were forsaken while men “ Sure,” whispered Joe. “ Read the elbowed for standing room about Fu Chen babies—a six an’ eight. You pushed your and his adversary. luck too far, Fu Chen.” Fu Chen touched the big man on the arm. The Chinaman took up the dice silently. “ We get ’em dice White Jack,” he ex¬ Attracted by the crowd around the table, plained. “ All light?” the proprietor, “White” Jack Stetly pushed The other hesitated. He had some dice through the watchers and looked from Joe of his own. But Stetly nodded. to Fu Chen. A silence had fallen on the “ Fair enough—an’ square enough,” he group. approved. “ Nobody’s going to put up a “ Who’s winner?” asked Stetly. yell about fake dice.” He tossed a pair “ Fu Chen,” snarled Joe, rising in dis¬ into the bowl. “ Get to it, boys.” gust. “ Twice he beat me to it. He’s The big man shrugged his shoulders. lucky to-night.” Taking the dice, he offered them to Fu Fu Chen leaned across the table. Chen, who clutched them eagerly and “ You shootee some?” he inquired of threw. This was the manner in which the Stetly. “ I got two thousand dol-lar. You Chinaman had gambled for a lifetime—the shootee high, maybe?” manner in which his father had won or White Jack laughed and caressed a pink lost copper string cash in the gambling chin. places of Soo-Chow. And Fu Chen, that “ Take it away, Fu Chen. Dis is a night, felt his luck was good. gambling joint. It ain’t no charity joint. He won the first throw. The gate’s good enough for me. I roll While the men about him shoved nearer, square—-see? And I ain’t going to buck and White Jack watched sharply, Fu Chen your luck.” tossed the tiny cubes into the worn bowl Stetly grinned. It would not pay the and bent over them with a hiss of indraw¬ house to risk a week’s gate on the fall of ing breath. His black eyes snapped as he dice in a Chinaman’s bowl. But a new¬ saw two sixes. comer appeared at his side. Fu Chen rec¬ “ Hell! ” grunted his opponent. He eyed ognized die man as one who had come in his own effort, a two and nine, surlily, and the touring-car. wheeled on the proprietor. “ For the love “ They say there’s a big game here, of God! This Chink’s thrown high four Jack,” he nodded. “ What’s on?” times—twice. I’d like to know—” Stetly indicated Fu Chen. “ Wid my dice,” said White Jack even¬ “ He’s got a roll and wants to play two ly, “ he throws square—see? Fu Chen gets thousand cold. Two outer three shots. I the coin. He put up his own coin against won’t touch it.” it. Likewise he gets outer here alone. No¬ The stranger glanced swiftly at the ex¬ body leaves until five minutes after he’s pectant Fu Chen. He was a big man, well gone wid the four thousand. Understand?” dressed, wTith ,a heavy-weight sparkler in They understood. Fu Chen took his his tie. money and departed, without being trailed. “ For the holy love of God!” he swore. He slipped from the saloon into an alley A CHINAMAN’S CHANCE. - 263 that led to' Pell Street. From there he “Look!” suggested Fu Chen. He dived struck due west, almost at a run. into a pocket and displayed a second thick His gait was uneven, and he was smiling. roll of bank-notes, as many or more than Men who saw him thought that he was the first. While Harding frowned in be¬ drunk. They were right, partly. Fu Chen wilderment, he explained. “ I make the was intoxicated. But not with liquor. big play, Mr. Bob. Hundled-one chance. At ten o’clock the next morning when Last night.” He nodded shrewdly. Robert Harding entered his office at Mc- “ Loulette gamble. The ball, him come—” Kestry & Squires, he found Fu Chen Fu Chen’s arm made a graphic circle and waiting beside his desk. Fu Chen wore his another, narrowing to a stop over the desk. best clothes and the derby hat. He had His black eyes gleamed, and he moistened been there, he admitted, an hour. He his lips as if in after relish of the supreme showed no indication of the sleepless night sensation that had been his. he had spent. “ The ball him come my place. I put “ Got that twenty?” asked Harding. He your twenty dol-lar on gamble table. They smiled grimly, thinking of the change in his pay me two thousan dol-lar. It belong fortunes that had made twenty dollars from you, Mr. Bob. You have ’em.” Fu Chen important. He, also, had not siept Harding’s glance sought and held the that night. Chinaman’s. Fu Chen met his look calmly. The Chinaman put an envelope on Hard¬ A wise^nan than Harding could not have ing’s desk. It was the same that the sales¬ read the thoughts behind the black eyes and man had given him, with the money, yes¬ wrinkled brow. It was Harding’s money, terday. “ Yes, Mr. Bob,” he said. Then, repeated Fu Chen. It had been his twenty as Harding made no move to touch the dollars. Fu Chen knew that, explained in money. “ You count ’em.” this way, his friend must take the money ^ Harding took up the envelope. Then he without further argument. stared. Instead of twenty dollars, there Harding drew a deep breath. “ Thanks,” was a pile of hundreds and tens in his hand. he said. He was going to say more, but the He glanced up in surprise at the smiling Chinaman was gone. Fu Chen. Straight to his laundry went Fu Chen. “ You have ’em,” observed that indi¬ He removed his shoes, collar, and hat, and vidual complacently. “ Two thousand dol¬ ^donned black silk blouse and slippers. He lar.” put his ironing Board in place, and the irons Harding fingered the money and shook on the stove. his head. When they were heated, Fu Chen bent “ I told you, Fu Chen, I couldn’t take over his work. He had lost several hours, your money. Thanks, just the same, and there were many clothes to be laun¬ but—” dered.

ALWAYS

“ A LWAYS” is such a little word— To mean so much, it’s quite absurd. Yet, when I promised to love Always, What I said was true. The trouble is: Although I love always, It isn’t always You. Coral Birch. COMPLETE IN THIS ISSUE.

CHAPTER I. “ Storm cornin’ up,” said the other ir-t relevantly. “ Le’s get th’ camps battened. OUT OF THE STORM. Take them on th’ left.” THE figures of two men lay half asprawl He buckled on a yellow “ greaser ” and across a rude table, and the feeble pulled away the ax-hewn door-bar. From rays of the guttering candle threw the river came a swelling roar, and a gust writhing, polymorphous shadows against the of wind, laden with the breath of the snow¬ log walls of the camp. All without was capped range to the north, caught the door black night, shrouding in its ebony blanket from his fingers and hurled it wide with a a vast waste of primeval woods, deep, in¬ bang. The candle was puffed out, and as finite, mysterious. Chuck fought the door shut, the camp was Away to the northwest, a cumulating filled with eery rustlings like mice scatter¬ plume of dense vapor was spreading into a ing to cover, as the wind sought out each hydra-headed monster that was just thrust¬ nook and cranny of the moss-chinked logs. ing its evil tentacles over the rim of the Cursing the camps, the storm and the universe to the rumble of a thousand drums; dark, Zig fumbled around until he found a chameleon’s tongue of white darted across his ragged mackinaw and soon, he, too, was the purple mist and the rising wind moaned battling the wind. and whistled through the tree-tops. The Bear Tooth Pulp Company’s lumber- The smaller man stirred, lazily lifted his camps, on a newly acquired tract, were a shaggy head away from his crossed arms man-made blot in the center of Nature’s and stared sleepily at his companion. As solitude; entombed in an immense sea of his faculties cleared and the sound of the woods that stretched far and away like sea- gathering storm came to his ears, he shot combers caught and held in balance. Miles to his feet and roused the other by the toward the north, Bear Tooth Range squat¬ simple expedient of clutching his nose be¬ ted in ugly purple against the horizon, foun¬ tween his fingers. tain of the Musquash River that wound its “ Hey, Zig.” turbulent way through this ligniferous wild The big man gave a gasping choke and for forty-six miles, when it joined the Pip- opened his eyes. An angry flush surged sissewa, which led to the sea. from his bull-like neck to his forehead. His Ordinarily, one man is enough to watch voice was a husky growl. a set of lumber-camps from the end of one “ Dang it, Chuck, how many times has season to the beginning of another, but I told ye not,to wake me up thataway?” when Boss Rod Claflin asked for volunteers* 264 PIZEN! 265

after they had “ sacked the rear ” of the vast, so deep, that the ears pounded as of spring drive and were about to move into a thousand pinions beating the air; the tarpaulin lean-toes in closer liaison with the teeth gritted, and nerves were strained like moving logs, not one of the crew of sixty- tautened catgut. And no man cared to as¬ four men cared to take the job. sume the post. A few, who had been members of the first “ Wall, speak up, men,” roared old Rod. crew, when they poled up the river two “ You fellers as has been beefin’ "bout th’ years ago, remembered the ghastly find of a hard work o’ snaggin’ out spruce an’ sackin’ skeleton on the river banks; supposedly that th’ rear, hyar’s a lazy man’s job as will hit of old John Goldman, a “ forty-niner ” and ye plumb center. Thar’s a good wanigan, trapper. Stuffed into the neck of a bottle nothin’ fancy, but grub as will stay yer was a piece of bark upon which wTas an stummick, an’ ye can use as much on it as almost undecipherable scrawl, because of ye need. I’ll be back with a crew o’ timber- the work of the elements. They made out waddies long th’ fust o’ October.” a few words: “ Injun—gold—Bear—fal—” Then Chuck Earp, clerk and scaler, had “ Looks ’sif he got tangled up with a spoken. b’ar dead-fall set by Injuns, an’ tried t’ “ I’ll stay for one, Rod,” said he, “ but sign his name,” said Claflin. “ But that not alone. I had one spell o’ that up in thar off laig o’ hisn looks t’ me’s if ’twere th’ Klondike, when my partner died and I bruk with a bullet ’stid o’ a ‘ fall.’ ” lived alone for fourteen months and almost And with this brief summary, old Rod went crazy. Leave another man with me had ordered a shallow grave to be dug for and I’ll take it.” the bones. Again, last year, Claflin had Even then only one other man had left Jim Calligan as caretaker of the camps, stepped forward. He was Bud Zeigler, the and when the crew came in, the camps were giant of the crew. That was two weeks deserted. A hunting-party found Calligan’s ago, and already the lonely monotony had body some eight miles up-stream. He had begun to cloy. They had been in this same been shot through the head.- Some thought atmosphere for seven months, and because it suicide, but others argued that the course of the small confines of the camp and too of the bullet precluded that theory. The close association, the other’s society irri¬ tragedies had gone down as being but two tated. Then, too, they had little in com¬ more to add to the unexplainable mysteries mon. of the woods. And now they recurred as Earp had a smattering of education, but Claflin faced them. through association with rough-speaking “ Thar’s forty a month an’ found in it. men, he dropped naturally into colloquial Tarnal good wages fer doin’ nothin’ but speech. He had been a sailor, a miner, had look arter yerself, ’cause th’ amount o’ work served one enlistment in the cavalry, and round th’ camps ain’t nuff to keep a hedge¬ had knocked around considerable. Gam¬ hog busy. All ye gotta do is eat, sleep, cut bling was his forte, and when the police yer own wood, an’ watch fer fire.” had raided his “ joint ” at Port Bragg, Earp “ That’s th’ hell o’ it,” muttered one. had been driven into the pulp woods to “ Nothin’ t’ do. If thar was suthin a feller escape the clutches of the minions of the could do t’ keep his mind off th’ big woods law. So he was not actuated by any love an’ th’ lonesomeness; mebbe somebody t’ of the woods or the “ forty-a-month ” com¬ talk ter once in a while, ’twouldn’t be so pensation. bad. But all ’lone—” He shook his head. Zeigler was a woodsman. Born in the Woodsmen though they wrere, they dread¬ back woods, he knew the woods and little ed the long, five months’ vigil, insulated as else. A hulking brute of a man, whose in a dark, closed tomb. The gaunt boles cycle of life was encompassed by trap, ax, of the surrounding trees were as prison- and peavey. He had a shock of coarse, bars, for beyond them stretched an abyss straw-colored hair, and his face, tight-drawn that approached infinitude. And over all, across prominent cheek-bones, was pale, like hung an oppressive silence—a silence so that of a “ lunger,” except for the hectic ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

smear. He had. the lidless, unresponsive move, but sat humped like a big toad, gaz¬ eyes of a halibut. He seldom joked, and ing at the stove, his fishy eyes blinking at his smile was a nightmare that exposed the red glow that shone through the draft. great, yellow carnivorous teeth. Bearded Before going to bed every night, Earp and unkempt, he suggested the cruel feroci¬ had a habit of drinking a cup of water, ty of a cave-dweller. steaming-hot. The. storm was the forerunner of the “ Best nateral medicine in the world,” he equinoctial storms that usually struck dur¬ said. “ Take a cupful of hot water every ing the vernal and autumnal period, with night and you’ll have less to pay for pills hurricane force. There were five other and plasters.” camps beside their own, and the two men And summer and winter, Earp never collided in the “ dingle ” between the long missed his night-cap of piping-hot water. bunk and cook houses. He put on the kettle to heat and took “ Right here,” shouted Earp, above the down from his bunk a birch box, beautifully rising wind. worked with interwoven porcupine-quills of Zeigler did not answer, but turned and different colors. He had made this during made his way through the pitchy night the winter months, in his spare time—when across the chip-covered yard, toward their he was not gambling with dice or cards— own camp. A greenish glare rocketed across and he turned a few dollars in making little ■the sky in a zigzag flame, followed by a bark and quill trinkets for members of the stunning crack of thunder that seemed to crew. The woods abounded with porcupine, split the dome of heaven; then the com¬ and he shot several, stripped them of their bined wrath of Thor and Pluvius was loosed quills, and dyed them with aniline dyes with the roar of Niagara, and a sheet of that he brought in. rain, driven aslant by the rising gale, struck Now he was working on a pair of full- them fair in the face. quilled moccasins of intricate design. His They battled their way to the lee of the chief tool was a thin-bladed awl, some six camp until there came a lull; then rushed inches long, mounted on a stag handle. for the door. With this he could often work the length Earp lit the candle that had burned down of a split quill without breaking. He had to the neck of the whisky-bottle into which learned the trick from the Blackfeet Indians it was stuck, then rummaged around in while serving in the cavalry near a reserva¬ the wanigan-box for another, while Zeigler tion in northern Montana. stirred up the fire, and after divesting them¬ For an hour he worked in absorbed pa¬ selves of mackinaw and “ greasers ” again tience by the feeble light that flickered and took up their respective stools beside the flared in the counter-currents as the wind rude table and smoked in silence, save for forced its way through the cracks of the the wind-rattled smoke-stack, the beat of dried chinking; while on the other side, sat the rain against the “ split ” roof, and the Zeigler, implacable, taciturn, smoking, steaming sizzle as a few drops seeped smoking. His attitude was not sullen or through and dropped on the stove. Finally brooding; animal-like, he seemed incapable Earp arose and deliberately knocked the of thought, vacant, listless. ashes from his cob on the hearth. Earp finally put away his materials, took “ Hell, ain’t it?” said he, apropos of noth¬ his draft of hot water, and crawled into ing. his bunk, and his last conscious thought Zig’s only answer was a grunt. His right before he fell asleep was that of the humped hand grasped the bowl of his cutty—a great, figure staring at the stove, and the bitter freckled paw, with gnarled knuckles and thought that there were to be\five long, homy-ridged nails; but what fascinated the weary months of this hell-grinding monot¬ eye were a dozen seed-warts that dotted the ony. backs of both hands—dry, hard integu¬ Outside, the storm raged in elemental ments that cropped into cauliflowerlike ex¬ fury, toppling -weakened trees to earth, crescences, horrible, sickening. He did not whipping and lashing its way south; the PIZEN! ” i 267

influx swelled the stream to a turgescent, “ Don’t stand there gawking. Gimme a foaming maelstrom. Day dawned with no cup o’ hot tea.” reprieve from the angry heavens and the “ Ain’t none,” drawled Zig, without mov¬ two men hardly stirred from the camp. ing. “ I drinked it all.” Zeigler had blocked out an ax-helve and “ Then make some,” roared Earp. now he shaped it, whittling and squinting “ There’s boiling water in the kettle. Put along its length, shaving a little here and on that rabbit-stew that was left over from squinting again, while he consumed pipe dinner to heat, too.” after pipe of tobacco. He chafed the cold, bleeding hands of Earp cooked their simple meal, which the exhausted girl, who tried, feebly, to was eaten in silence, and because Zeigler draw them away. She did not faint, she showed no inclination to do so, washed the seemed to have reached the limit of her tin dishes, rattling them loudly for the sake endurance, that was all. She gulped at the of hearing a noise. He “ quilled ” a while, hot beverage, greedily, and under its stimu¬ played Canfield solitaire until he caught lating influence, she sat up and looked himself cheating, then hurled the dog-eared around dazedly. She started at sight of her cards to the table with an oath. The inac¬ hosts, whose bearded faces presented a sin¬ tion irked his nature and he tried to peer ister aspect in the semigloom of the cabin. into the gloom. Zeigler might have been Then, as her brain resumed its functions, an automaton for all the emotion he showed. she tried to rise. Mid afternoon, Earp ripped his oilskin from Earp pushed her back and placed a basin a peg. of stew and a piece of bannock in her lap, “ I gotta get out, Zig, storm or no stonn. and bade her eat. She attacked the food We need a pail of water—” veraciously. He stopped, while a look of incredulous “ Who be ye?” asked Zeigler, unable to amazement overspread his features. He restrain his curiosity any longer. “ An’ had heard a knock. Again it came, more whar did ye come from?” insistent than before. Even Zeigler was At his rasping demand, the girl simply stirred from his lethargy as in four full shook her head and applied herself to the strides, Earp reached and unbarred the door food. and a form fell across the threshold. Un¬ “ Guess she don’t savvy English,” said mindful of the watery blast he caught the Earp. He moved a stool nearer the stove shoulders and dragged the feebly struggling and motioned her to it. “ Get near stove, figure inside. While the giant set his broad get dry.” shoulders against the wide door and forced She huddled over the grateful warmth, it shut, Earp assisted their visitor to a seat. and held out her emptied cup and dish It was a girl! for more. She scooped out the basin to the last spoonful, and returned the tins with a little nod and a smile. Gradually CHAPTER II. the color crept back into her face, then, THE SHE-DEVIL. womanlike, she began to tidy up her ap¬ pearance. Her fingers braided the wet hair CHE lay back against a bunk-post with swiftly and she squeezed out a little water ^ closed eyes, her bosom rising and falling from her rain-soaked dress. Shielded by with quick rhythm, her long black hair the stove, she modestly wrung out her straggling, like dank sea-weed, across well- knitted stockings, soothed her lacerated feet, molded features from which all color had and hung her moose-shanks behind the receded. The deer-skin dress was a sop¬ heater to dry. ping hide, and from the moose-shank moc¬ A fierce gust of wind shook the camp casins there oozed a trickle of water, slight¬ from base-log to ridge-pole, and a loosened ly tinged with crimson. “ split ” rattled against its underlapped “ A’ Injun gal,” gasped Zeigler. “ Whar mate, with the staccato tap of a riveter. in tarnation could she ’a’ come from?” Now and again there sounded above the 268 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

raging forces the dull, sodden roar of the a cat and leaped aside, just as Zeigler lum¬ turgid stream and the splintering crash of bered after her and went to his hands and a weakened monarch of the forest as it top¬ knees. pled to earth. Before he could rise she caught up the Zeigler had retired to his seat at the ax-handle from the bunk and brought it •foot of his bunk, shrouded in his shell of crashing down on the shaggy head, and taciturnity, the ax-handle forgotten. His Zeigler dumped forward with a grunt. She fishy eyes followed the girl’s every move; had raised tie green-maple helve to strike his pale face flushed with ulterior interest. again, when Earp caught it from behind. “By cripes!” Earp heard him mutter. “ You little she-devil, what ’re tryin’ to “ She’s purty.” do?” She made her simple toilet, and quite Instantly she let go and, darting, to where unconsciously she had stood on her tiptoes Zeigler’s belt hung from a peg, drew the to hang a large bandanna over a length of big .44 from its holster. With this, she hay-wire that was stretched across the log faced Earp; the steel muzzle, held waist- beams to dry. The wet skin-dress clung to high, was as steady as rock; her bosom her willowy figure, accentuating the soft, was heaving and the eyes that bored into graceful curves that were molded with the his, glittered ophidiacally. beauty of an odalisk. “ Keep ’way,” she panted. “ I shoot.” In profile, she did not see the giant. The And in the grim, compressed lips, the fishy eyes had lost their listless luster and tense poise, Earp read determiation and fairly burned; the outthrust head, the purpose. She would shoot. In spite of wolfish snarl that spread over his gargoyle himself the gambler felt a burst of admira¬ features, added bestial force 'to his pose. tion for the self-reliant child of the woods. The wire eluded her grasp by an inch, and “ I ain’t going to touch you,” he said. Zeigler laid aside his pipe. Softly he “ I jest caught this club ’fore you mashed crossed to her side, and before she was old Zig’s head into mince-meat. Mebbe aware of the intention, he had grasped her he deserved it, but he didn’t mean nothin’. under the arms and lifted her as lightly as He tried to help you.” he would a child. He did not cry out, or “ Yuh? I not want it that kind help. I struggle, though her face flamed. will ask if I want help.” She motioned She reached for the stool with her foot toward the recumbent figure that lay in a and stood Upon it. Zeigler’s face cracked tiny pool of Wood from a two-inch cut in into what he intended for a smile. the scalp. “ Put her on bunk. See if hurt “ Why didn’t ye hang yer hanky up much.” thar—” With a strength that was surprising, she “Yo’ big bear!” she cried. Her brown caught the feet of the unconscious man and hand swung in a semicircle and landed assisted Earp to lay him upon one of the across the big man’s cheek with force bunks. enough to bring the blood rushing to the “Get me scissors,” she ordered. “An’ spot. The. giant’s eyes blinked; partly at mak’ light.” the brow, partly at the unexpected speech, She clipped away the matted hair, poul¬ then his brow beetled; his breath was ex¬ ticed the wound with tobacco-leaves that haled through his thick-walled nostrils, like she chewed herself, then bandaged the the snort of a maddening bull. giant’s head with her own bandanna. Zeig¬ “ Ye dam’ she-cat,” he snarled. “ Ye’ll ler opened his eyes. Slowly the cobwebs pay fer that whack.” cleared from his sluggish intellect and he She had jumped from the stool and now saw her sitting at the edge of the bunk, she backed away from his advancing bulk, unafraid. Earp expected a torrent of woods crouching a little, her eyes darting here and profanity and a renewal of the attack, but there like those of a cornered weasel. Her instead Zig’s face cracked into the nearest stockinged foot caught and tripped on the semblance of a smile of which he was capa¬ uneven flooring. She twisted in mid air like ble, and he patted her arm. PIZEN!”

“ Gal, ye’re plumb grit, dean to th’ back¬ “ Right purty name. But who be ye, bone, an’ I g’ess I got jest what was cornin’ an’ whar’d ye come from?’.’ t’ me. Mebbe I mought ha’ been a leetle “ Firs’ ’fore I mak’ answer. Can I stay rough an’ skeered ye, cornin’ up behind ye in one these camp till mornin’, an’ will yo’ thataway. Lemme up.” sell me beans, flour, bacon, an’ like that “ No, lay still. Yo’ will mak’ bleed.” kind grub? I will pay wit’ fur.” “ Wal, if ye’ll nuss me, I’ll lay hyar like Zeigler looked at Earp and gave an al¬ a cast hoss, which ’minds me that I want a most imperceptible shake of the head that drink o’ water.” was unseen by the girl. “ Ain’t none,” spoke up Earp. “ I’ll get “ Wall, I dunno,” said he. “ Our wanigan some.” He struggled into his yellow oil¬ ain’t any too well stocked; not much more skin. “ I won’t be long.” ’n we’ll need afore old Claflin an’ his crews “Ye needn’t hurry back on my ’count, come in, round th’ xst o’ October.” Chuck. Take yer time.” This was a lie, for the wanigan camp was “ Yuh,” supplemented the girl, signifi¬ stocked with staples that had been hauled cantly. “ An’ mebbe yo’ will find dead bear in over the snow by tote-teams during the if he try some fonny bizness agin.” winter. The girl did not answer, but sat Zeigler simply grunted. down on the stool beside the stove and laced on her moose-shanks. “ You ain’t going out in this storm, are CHAPTER III. you?” asked Earp as she stood up. “ Yuh, I goin’ Dungle’ Landin’ for get it FRENCH LEAVE. grub.” ’T'HE spring was housed, and perhaps a “ But it’s seventy miles.” A hundred yards back of the camps. As “ I mak’ it three day easy,” she said non¬ Earp staggered against the storm, his mind chalantly. She might have been going out was filled with speculations regarding their for an airing. “ There is Injun trails cross visitor. Who was she? Where did she country what is short cut. An’ I don’t care come from? What was she doing here? if it hunder’ an’ seventy, I must have it Where was she going? That she was self- grub. I think mebbe yo’ sell me jest lil reliant, she had demonstrated, but she ap¬ for last few week.” parently had no food, gun, or equipment “ Ye can’t do it, gal. How be ye goin’ of any kind, to combat the big woods. And seventy mile ’thout even a knapsack o’ the nearest settlement was seventy miles grub?” away. He gave it up. “ I got it cache out here lil ways. My After Earp had gone, Zeigler struggled gon, fish-line, piece pork an’ salt, all I need. to his elbow, then to the stool beside his I could live mont’, six mont’ if I have to.” bunk. His head was swirling dizzily, but, “ Wal, if ye’re so sot on it, mebbe we bull-like, he fought it off and asked for his can let ye have a leetle. I thought we pipe. The girl, who had watched him alert¬ mought hire ye t’ cook fer us. But whar ly, recovered the villainous cutty and when be ye campin’? Got folks hereabout?” two paces away, tossed it to him. Zig The girl hesitated. “ I trappin’ over Al¬ sniffed. der Bog way.” “ Don’t trust me, do ye?” he asked. Alder Bog lay fifty odd miles toward the “ No,” she answered shortly. northwest, a wild, almost inaccessible re¬ “ Why?” gion, because of half-inundated swamps that She made no reply, but busied herself were but miry crypts of putrid mud and about the wooden sink, until Earp returned, rotting vegetation. when she brought the big man a dipper of “ Alder Bog?” echoed Zeigler. “ Then the muddy water. He gulped it, mud and why didn’t ye come out by way o’ th’ Pip- all. sissewa by canoe? It’s easier, an’ nearer, “ Thanks, nuss. Say, what’s yer name?” an’ thar ain’t no swamps.” “ Noela.” Again the pause, then: “ Pipsissewa full 270 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

of log now. They drivin’. Le’s get it sup¬ the white sulfur crystals, but what caught per—I hungry an’ tire’. Tell me where it her eye, was a heavy, round bottle. is grub an’ I mak’ yo’ nice supper.” “ What that, quicksilver?” Her tone wag And she did. Brown slabs of delicious eager; of suppressed excitement. johnny-cake; crisp, crumbly slices of sweet “ Yup. I use it fer ‘ leadin’s ’ in my bacon and fried potatoes, done to a turn. rifle. I alius carry a lefitle bottle o’ that, To top it off, she had found a can of molas¬ too.” ses and she made a golden ginger-bread. “ I like buy. My rifle got it leadin’s She hummed a native song as she went too. How much?” about her work, and, uncorseted, her supple “ Wal, I dunno. ’Tain’t much use t’ me body had the free, easy grace of a gazelle. now, an’ jest t’ show ye that I ain’t got no Earp marveled at the change in his com¬ hard feelin’s fer that joust on my haid, I’ll panion. The big man was almost agreeable, gin ye that bottle o’ marcury.” and his speech approached loquacity. He “ I like pay.” even tried to joke. When the meal was “ Pay, shucks.” Ziegler waved his ham¬ ready and Noela called out “ Chuckaway! ” like paws. he jumped up with an alacrity that re¬ / “ And there’s a glass jar that’s half full opened the wound. Noela insisted upon re¬ in the blaeksmith-shop that you can have, dressing it. too,” said Earp. “ I don’t know what they “ Aw, that ain’t nothin’,” he said with a used it for, but it ain’t any use to us, so touch of bravado. “ One time I snowshoed take it.” over thutty mile through a Feb’uary bliz¬ “ I like it, but I want buy.” zard with two ribs bruk an’ four strips tore “ You have paid already. This storm out o’ my back, an’ ’thout even a froze made us both as ugly as dogs with a bone hunk o’ bread t’ eat, time I tried t’ take and you came in just in time to keep us a live b’ar out o’ one o’ my traps. Damn from jumping at each other’s throats. We fool. Sarved me right fer tryin’ sech a fool owe you thanks, besides.” stunt.” Again came that wry grimace that “ I think big man ain’t thank much,” contorted his pasty mask. she said with a touch of contrition. “I The talk during the meal was principally sorry.” And she patted Zeigler on the about trapping. That she was not a tyro cheek. The giant flushed painfully and was evident in the ready manner in which Earp laughed, which gave Zeigler an oppor¬ she discussed, not only the snaring, but the tunity to mask his embarrassment. bait, traps, and the habits of the wily fur- “ What ye laffin’ at?” he growled. “ Git bearers. Zeigler, who had set out a few a move on an’ help me clean up th’ dishes. traps during the winter, brought out a small We’ll move over t’ th’ bunk-camp an’ let bundle of pelts. Noela sorted them skil¬ th’ gal stay hyar.” fully, grasping them by the tail and shak¬ “ I will wash dish’, but I like have yo’ ing them down in order to see if the fur fell mak’ wanigan ’cause I want mak’ early evenly, and examining the skin. start, if stop rain. I think it let up lil now. “ Cure good,” she said. “ Yo’ got it few An’ I can mak’ Alder Bog in two day hard good skin. These ones ‘ blue pelt,’ not tramp.” prime. Yo’ catch her too early. An’ yo’ The storm had abated somewhat. The fox .is kill wit’ poison, not trap.” gusts of wind did not have their battering- “ Uhuh!” nodded Zig. “ I use dough- ram force and the sheets of rain had dwin¬ pills o’ fox-pizen. You Injuns say ’tain’t dled to a steady downpour. The thunder good trappin’, but it gits ’em, an’ that’s th’ sounded in diminuendo like empty wagons main p’int. I alius carry a vial o’ strych in crossing a distant bridge. my ‘ kennebecker.’ See, hyar.” “ Why don’t ye lay over a day or two an’ “ Too danger’,” remarked Noela, as Zig rest up? Then when ye git ready t’ start dug out an old stocking from his pack and back, me an’ Chuck will gin ye a lift part- carefully dumped its contents on the table; ways.” among them a small eight-ounce bottle of “ Yo’ good mans,” she said, with a “ PIZEN1” 271

• naivete that again brought a flush into Zig’s speculation, in which the plucky girl played ugly countenance. “ But I got it few trap the leading role. out, an’ I gone free day ’ready.” Zeigler always fell asleep while lying on “ But ain’t you afraid up there in the his right side and the wound in his scalp in¬ woods all alone, with no one within miles terfered with that position. It began to and miles?” asked Earp. “ S’pose you throb also. That, and his thoughts of the should fall sick or suthin’. But—mebbe girl, kept him awake long after the deep you’re married.” breathing of Earp in the next bunk told The girl threw back her head and him that that worthy was asleep. He was laughed, and her mirth was like a treeful of just dozing off when he thought he heard silver bells, shaken by th6 breeze. And un¬ the “ tunk ” of one of the uneven logs of consciously, both men hung upon her an- the flooring as it dropped back into place, then the cautious creak of the door swinging “ Marry? No. Man what I marry must shut. be able to tramp further as me. He must “What’s that?” cried.Zig, suspiciously, be good trapper an’ have no ugly hair on “ That you, Chuck?” her face. I ain’t like it them whisker.” “ Huh? Whassa matter?” “ I’m going to shave to-morrow,” laughed “ Thought I heared somebody movin’ Earp. round in hyar. One 0’ them prowlin’ hedge¬ “ Me, too,” grunted Zig. “ But Chuck’s hogs, mebbe.” He snuggled back into the got th’ right dope. Ain’t ye ’fraid up thar?” bough mattress. “ ’Fraid!” she scoffed. “ What I ’fraid? It was late when they awoke. The rain The woods is my home an’ my fr’en’. Will had settled into a cold drizzle and a dirty yo’ mak’ my pack now?” gray fog hung low along the torrential Mus¬ “ Oh, in th’ mornin’s time ’nuff. We want quash that was plunging by at freshet pitch. ye t’ stay’s long as ye will. An’ we’ll tote There was no smoke issuing from the th’ stuff over fer ye. We ain’t got nothin’ little stack of the girl’s camp, and they t’ do but set round an’ hate ourselves. Be a made their way to the river’s edge to make good trip fer us.” their morning ablutions. “ H-m! Yo’ swap yo’ min’, when yo’ “ She must ’a’ been clean beat,” said strike Hell-Sunk Swamp ’bout it ‘ good Zig when there was no reply to his repeated trip,’ ” Noela retorted dryly as she attacked knock. He tried the door; it opened read¬ the tin dishes; while Earp and Zeigler, with ily, but the camp was empty! more content than they had known for months, sat and smoked. Noela chatted vivaciously as she worked, but—never for a CHAPTER IV. moment did she allow Zig’s big .44 to be far FROM AMBUSH. from her hand. “ Now, shoo,” she said as she finished. T^HE girl was gone. “ Go ’nother camp, ’cause I tire’. I want “ Whatdya know ’bout that?” dry my dress an’ I goin’ bed.” gasped Zig. “ She’s gi’n us th’ slip.” Both grinned. It was a new experience Earp made no reply. He was examining for them to be ordered around by a slip of a the wanigan-box that had been looted of girl, and strangely enough, both liked it. beans, bacon, flour, salt, and tea. In their Earp took his night-cap of hot water and stead was a small bundle of fur: marten, they retired to the long bunk-house, dug sable, mink, and muskrat; more than out some heavy blankets from the “ blan- enough to balance. ket-wanigan,” and turned in. “ Mebbe we could run her down,” sug¬ Alone again, they dropped naturally into gested Zig. “ She’s got a load thar that’s the old taciturn mood and they said but all o’ a hundred pound, ’sides what she little regarding their visitor, accepting the mought ha’ mooched from th’ wanigan- incident as a matter of course, though the camp as wa’n’t locked. Mebbe she made a mind of each was engrossed with private cache whar she had th’ fur hid.” 272 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ Let her go,” answered Earp testily. right away, ’course it ain’t goin’t’ make no “ We told her we’d sell her some grub and ’pression on rock. It takes time to even take fur as pay. And you couldn’t drag eat in one o’ these hyar warts.” her back with a snag-chain if she didn’t “ I tell you it’s gold. I’ve panned it and want to come. She’s half wild yet.”. I know. There’s only ’bout two ounces in “ Wal, p’raps yer right, but—say, won¬ that lump, but if we can locate the girl, der if she took my gat. If she did—what’s she may lead us to a fortune. How far is that? A rock?” it to Alder Bog?” On the way to his bunk his foot had Earp’s eyes were blazing now.- Once kicked a small pebble that rolled almost at again the lust of gold was surging through Earp’s feet, as, him ting-knife in hand, the his veins; the lust that had led him to brave latter bent to pick up some cedar slabs to the unknown dangers of the Klondike in start the fire. Earp picked up the stone 1897. Again he saw himself with pick, and was about to toss it into the ashes shovel, and pan; digging, washing; every when its weight caught his attention. It stroke, every twist of the wrist an eager was of a peculiar color and when he scraped agony, a fever of suspense. it with his hupting-knife, his eye caught a “ Wal, I dunno,” replied Zig slowly. glint, hie fairly leaped to the door, where “ Sixty mile, more or less as th’ crow flies, he could get a better light. an’ Hell-Sunk Swamp stuck somewhere in “ Zig, bring me your ax and that ball- atween.” 'hammer at the head of my bunk.” Earp’s “ What is it, a river, lake, or what?” voice was shaking with excitement. Earp paced back and forth, breakfast, “ What fer?”' everything, forgotten. But with Zeigler, “ Don’t ask questions. Bring ’em,” bodily comfort came first. He started to shouted Earp. build the fireleft by Chunk, squatting down “ Ye ain’t a cripple, be ye?” roared Zeig- on his haunches and shaving a cedar ler in turn. “ Go git ’em yerself.” kindling. “ Hell!” “ Answer me!” Earp roared. He caught Earp jumped and yanked the little ham¬ the giant’s shoulder with such violence that mer from its peg with such violence that he Zeigler was sent sprawling, and as he scram¬ broke the leather thong by which it hung; bled to his feet, knife in hand, his temper then, using the face of the ix as an anvil, flared. He blocked Earp, who had resumed he tried to break the water-worn rock. It his pacing. simply bent under his blows and glittered “ Keep yer hooks offa me!” Zig’s whis¬ where the hammer dented. kers bristled, and for a second the air was “ It’s gold! ” he yelled. charged with tragedy as the two men glared, “ Huh?” grunted Zig. “ What’s gold?” eye to eye. Then Earp turned on his heel, “ This lump. And the Injun girl brought with a shrug and an oath. it. She must ’a’ dropped it when she fell, “ For God’s sake, Zig, are you human just afore she struck you with that ax- or devil? Let’s not fight like a couple of handle.” dogs over a bone. If I didn’t know differ¬ “ Gwan. Whar in tarnation’d th’ gal git ent, I’d say you were a hop-head. This is gold up hyar in Maine? Must be that thar the chance of your life, man. A chance to stuff ye call fool’s gold, or a piece o’ yeller be rich, to live like a human being instead rock.” of being cooped up in this lonely hell-hole “ Did you ever see a rock the same size for a year at a time. Good Lord! Ain’t as heavy as this? Heft it. Here, get me you got any guts, any ambition? Let’s that nitric-acid you use for burning off your get together and hunt up this girl. She’ll warts and I’ll prove it.” make us both independent for life if we Zeigler watched Earp apply the acid test, can find her. As you said, mebbe we can still unconvinced. overtake her.” “ That don’t prove nothin’,” he said But Zeigler was applying a match to the dully. “If that thar acid won’t burn warts stove, and started to get breakfast. All PIZEN! 273

during the preparation of the simple meal across their faces, and when they were Earp continued to argue, without a break forced to camp by the darkness that settled in the giant’s taciturnity. swiftly, they had covered less than twenty Suddenly Zeigler’s face took on a look of miles. pleased animation. His thoughts were of Zeigler set about getting supper and Earp, the girl herself, instead of the gold. dog-tired, keeled over where he sat and “ Wall,” said he, “ I ain’t got much faith was fast asleep before the kettle boiled. in findin’ any gold. I’ve lived hyar, man When the rude fare was ready, Zig roused an’ boy, for nigh forty year, an’ I ain’t the tired man by prodding him in the ribs never heared o’ thar bein’ any gold here¬ with his foot. The meal, was eaten in about. But I’ll go ’long of ye, jest fer th’ silence. sake o’ gittin’ ’nother squint at th’ gal. They were early astir, and though thq I’m a good trapper, an’ I can out-tromp rain had ceased, a cold wind whined nine out o’ ten men. Mebbe if I shaved off through the stunted trees. Now they wrig¬ m’ whiskers—” gled through a labyrinth of scrubby spruce Mid-forenoon saw them plunging across and twisted cedar, to which clung blotches the ridge straight through the woods toward of hairy moss and green, slimy, gelatinous Alder Bog. The giant knew the general lichen. The thick, perennial growth over¬ topography of the country, and his huge head spread a dun pall, like the ghostly bulk swung ahead in that long stride that shadows of a gloomy cathedral. covered an amazing lot of ground; the Here and there were little patches of stride of the woodsman who has some ob¬ snow, as yet unreached by the feeble rays jective. of the sun, that could not penetrate this Earp clung tenaciously to his heels, his vast crypt. Sphagnum moss and herba¬ energy fired with a consuming desire to ceous plants of water-loving nature abound¬ reach their destination. Again he saw him¬ ed; while from the mud that squelched self as part of that gold-crazed horde that beneath their weight, then gurgled like boil¬ swarmed out of Edmonton to defy the wilds ing gruel when they withdrew their feet, of Peace River Valley and the primeval rose a musty stench as of miasmic putrefac¬ Mackenzie in that agonizing march that tion. For two hours they wallowed through tested the stamina of real men; that ordeal this, then Zeigler stopped and consulted the that probed into a man’s soul and ferreted trembling needle of his compass. out his weakness. And a large proportion “ By gad, Chuck, I blieve we’re in Hell- of that adventurous army, finding their Sunk Swamp. It’s eighteen mile straight strength unequal to the task, had left their acrost, or we can tromp back to th’ aidge bones to bleach beside the trail, grim toll o’ it an’ swing due east till we strike th’ to the “ survival of the fittest.” Pipsissewa, then foller north. What say?” Then, he had trailed thousands, but this “ How far is it to the Bog that way?” time, he was in the vanguard, the George All o’ fifty mile. Ye see, we make ’most Carmack, the Jim Marshall, of the new El a ha’f-circle thataway. Th’ Bog lays ’bout Dorado, and die thought Spurred him on. fifteen mile t’other side o’ th’ swamp.” His stomach-muscles grew strained and sore, “ And if the Pipsissewa is flooded, which and his left “ cruiser ” was too large, so most likely it is after the rain, we ain’t that the constant chafing made a water- any better off than if we go straight ahead. blister that burst and was now raw. His And we save twenty miles.” pack, light enough when he started, seemed Without a word, Zeigler shifted his pack' weighted with lead. to an easier position and plunged into the An hour before dark, they struck the low¬ boscage. lands that were a quagmire. The sodden And two days later, ragged and foot¬ bracken, rotting ’neath the melting snows, sore, they sighted the little camp at the formed a soggy, slippery footing that sucked upper end of the Bog, which was not a bog at each step and stayed their progress. The at all, but a tranquil pond surrounded by thick undergrowth, rain-laden, swished high, up-flung ridges. The “ split ” roof of 7 Argosy 274 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

the mud-chinked camp was sagging and the sharp turn, Zig found the broken bark of clearing in which it stood was overgrown a swamped canoe. He merely prodded it with rank, dead weeds and small bushes. with his foot and resumed his way. It had been abandoned for at least three Swamped canoes might have been an every¬ years. day occurrence with him for all the emotion Earp swore. Not the profane exclama¬ he showed. tion of quick anger; out deep, sonorous But he pondered over the swamped craft oaths of chilling blasphemy that embraced in his oxlike way. It was well nigh impos¬ the girl, his luck, and the swamps. And sible to paddle, or even pole a canoe against through his years of association with the that turgid current and gradually his slug¬ alluvial dregs of human scum in various gish intellect associated the bark-jyith the parts of the world, his vocabulary was large girl, and she had come from up-stream. It and forceful. was not, however, until they had “ turned Zeigler had now assumed his usual in ” that Zig mentioned the incident to impassive mien, after his first disappoint¬ Earp. The latter fairly leaped out of his ment, and set about getting their evening bunk. meal with the succinct remark: “ And you—” he choked. “ By dam’, “ If I could ’a’ just seen her, I’d say th’ Zig, you’re enough to drive a man crazy. trip was wurth it.” Why didn’t you tell me this before? We Earp raved. “ She’s somewhere in this might have had half a day’s start by region, that’s a living cinch, and I’m going now.” to find her if it takes ten years. She’s some “ Ain’t no call to hurry,” mumbled Zeig¬ wise little squaw, to steer us ’way up here ler. “ We got all summer to ketch her. so’s to allow her time to make her getaway, She-” in case we did try to foller her to her dig- “ She? I ain’t thinkin’ of her. It’s what gin’s. What do you think?” she means if we find her and her diggin’s, Zig didn’t even look up, but sat humped ’cause that nugget was placer-rock. And like a huge frog gazing at the coals, while the sooner you get to thinking my way he waited for the kettle to boil. ’stead of the girl, the better. That woods “ And she knows something of mining, chicken is a whole lot wiser ’n she looks. else why did she want all that quicksilver? She ain’t buried up here with nothin’ to You know that they use quicksilver in look forward to but the wife of some woods¬ sluice-rifles to catch the ‘ color.’ And she man. Take it from me.” said that she wanted it for ‘ leadin’s.’ We’re And Earp lit the candle and filled his prize boobs.” knapsack with food for another expedition. “ Eat,” grunted Zig. When he finished, Zeigler’s regular breath¬ He guzzled the pouchong and gulped at ing told him that the giant was asleep. his bannock and bacon, his throat contract¬ He was up before daylight, and roused ing and dilating with boalike elasticity, ob¬ the big man, whose deliberation filled Earp livious, seemingly, to his partner’s ranting. with a desire to leap upon the ponderous It was this apatheticism that was madden¬ dolt and batter him soundly with his fists. ing, and Earp threw up his hands in sullen He was champing to be off an hour before disgust. Zeigler was ready, importuning, command¬ After a rest of two days, during which ing; but he might as well have spent his Earp did some desultory prospecting with¬ breath toward the bole of the hackmatack out result, they started back; traveling by against which he leaned, for all the effect it easy stages because of Earp’s lame foot. had.' Reaching camp, Zeigler bethought himself On the morning of the third day they of an otter trap that he had set in a “ slide ” approached Bear-Tooth Range, which, pur- above their site. ple-hued at a distance, now loomed like a The Musquash had receded somewhat, gray wall. Far below in a cleft that might though still high, its waters muddy and have been done with the irregular hackings strong. Washed high by the flood on a of a giant ax the Musquash pounded its “PIZEN!” 275

turgid way seaward. There came to their them tins from rattling against that pick- ears the hollow roar of falls and from a head.” promontory they overlooked a small basin. He stopped so suddenly that Zeigler, fol¬ They picked their way down the precipi¬ lowing close on his heels with head beht, tous wall, taking advantage of crevices and rammed into him with force enough to send the bulging sides, and had reached a wide both staggering. bench that jutted from the cliff, mapping Zip ripped out an oath. out their route, when Zig said: “ What ja stop—”. “ I been a thinkin’, Chuck, that it’s tarnal He blinked, for, standing less than ten funny that thar ain’t any signs o’ a trail. feet away, was an old Indian—and the rifle I don’t b’lieve th’ gal’s up thisaway at all, he held was at full cock. ’cause if she were we’d ’a’ seen some sign o’ her.” “ But th’ canoe—” CHAPTER V. “ Mought ’a’ been a bluff t’ throw us LUST OF GOLD. off, same’s Alder Bog. Less ’n we git some sartin proof that she’s hyar, I’m goin’ LJIS seamed, leathery visage was cast in back—” 1 1 grim lines and his teeth bared as he There was a menacing whine that cul¬ barked: minated in a vicious spat as a bullet rico¬ “ Stan’ still!” cheted on the rock wall and “ zinged ” on They stood. He gave a slight nod over its murderous way. The crack of the rifle their shoulders, and Noela, who had been echoed and reechoed from the crags, its covering them from behind a big boulder, source lost in the repercussion. stepped forward and relieved them of their Both ducked and wriggled on their stom¬ shooting-irons, then produced a length of achs to the shelter of a jagged boulder, and rawhide from about her waist and pro¬ waited. Speaking in husky whispers they ceeded to tie their wrists behind their backs. retreated, and exposing themselves as little Covered by the steely bore in the hands of as possible, they finally regained the top. the old Indian, Earp was forced to submit The shot did not deter them—rather the first, and'she did a very businesslike job contrary. They rounded the ridge and of it. came upon a deer runway that led toward “Stan’ over there!” she ordered. As the river, and followed k cautiously. Earp passed Zig, he muttered from the side From a high point they spied the river of his mouth: and saw two skin teepees pitched on its “ Jump her.” banks. “ Try it,” challenged the sharp-eared girl. “ We’ve got her,” exulted Earp. “ Come “ It be yo’ las’ jump.” on.” “ Now, go back, way yo’ come,” ordered He had-drawn his gun when Zeigler laid the old man, after he had examined the one of his warty paws on his arm. knots. “ Put it up. We ain’t goin’ t’ do no “ But we ain’t—” shootin’.” “ Go back, an’ don’t talk.” The words “ But s’pose she—” were hissed rather than spoken, and they “ No shootin’, I said.” had no recourse but to obey. The Indian Earp turned and looked at Zig, who spoke a few hasty words to Noela in his stared him back without blinking, and with native tongue and she abruptly vanished a shrug Earp sheathed his revolver. Trem¬ in the woods. bling a little he scrambled down the rough Silent, watchful, his black eyes alert to path like a big bear, while behind him lum¬ their every move, the old Indian, Clawfoot, bered Zig, his pale face flushed, his fishy brought up the rear. Occasionally the muz¬ eyes shining with eagerness and expecta¬ zle of his gun would prod Earp in the back tion. as a signal for him to close up on Zeigler “ Hurry,” panted Earp. “ And keep in front. 276 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Now it became clear how the girl had “ Go ’head, he hear what yo’ say.” been able to carry away her heavy wani- “ Well, I’ve just been thinking this thing gan, and the noise Zig had heard in the over. What do you intend to do with us bunk-camp. Clawfoot had taken refuge now?” from the storm and laid quiet in one of the “ Take yo’ to camps.” sixty bunks, until he thought they were “ And then? Leave us there?” She asleep. nodded. Noela was waiting for them when they “ I thought so. Now what’s to prevent reached the summit, a blanket and a small us from going out to Dungle’s Landing or sack of food strapped to her back, and with¬ even Port Bragg and bring back a hundred, out a word or sign trotted ahead. Save yes, a thousand men? All I’d have to do for the heavy breathing, the occasional snap is to show them this nugget that’s in my of a twig and the clank of pick-head on the pocket, and they’d come a running, hell¬ spade or cooking-tins, there was no sound bent.” from the file. Zeigler plodded along, feast¬ “ Stan’ up! ” Her nimble fingers flew ing his eyes upon the willowy Noela, his over his pockets until she discovered the features reflecting no chagrin or anger; one containing the nugget. With a little rather of pleasure and content. But Earp, smile of triumph, she transferred it to a seething with inward rage, growled like a pouch in her leather belt. “ I lose it in yo’ bear with a trap-chewed paw. Once or camp. Now, how yo’ goin’ show it nug¬ twice he tried to argue, but a forceful jab get?” in the small of his back from the rifle- “ Well, I don’t have to show anything. barrel silenced him. Some of them will take a gambling chance They reached the river again below the and come anyway. Insicle of two weeks gorge, and on a smooth ledge that was there’d be a stampede for these diggin’s of reached by a narrow path and which com¬ an army of gold-crazed men that would manded a view, both up-stream and down, jump your claim, unless it’s legally staked of a hundred yards. Behind them loomed out, and chances are it ain’t. Then where a high wall, before them boiled the rapa¬ would you be?” cious Musquash. “ I shoot.” Clawfoot’s grip on the rifle Noela flung off her pack and built a fire. tightened, and the piercing eyes glittered. She pooled the food from both sacks and “ Sure you would and you might get a untied Earp and Zeigler while they ate, few of us, but sooner or later, one of us with Clawfoot, grim as a stone Buddha, is going to get you. Two of you can’t Standing guard. And, save for the savage watch all points of the compass; yo.ur grub mutter of the river, all with that uncanny is going to give out some time and you silence that wore the temperamental Earp can’t work your claim and stand guard, to frenzy. too. ’Course you might kill me and Zig, Darkness settled with that mysterious but next fall, when Claflin and his crews softness characteristic of spring, and the come back, they’ll scour these woods till light from the fire played on Clawfoot’s they find our bones, same’s they did them saturnine features, accentuating the deep of Goldman and Calligan—” furrows and cruel lines by the flickering Noela’s face went Bard. “ Goldman was shadows. Tinally Earp could contain him¬ steal. My father was trap on Alder Bog self no longer. an’ Goldman had camp near fork of Mus¬ “ Lissen—” quash an’ Pipsissewa. That five year ago “Don’t talk!” snapped Clawfoot. an’ I was in convent, but he find my father Noela said something in an undertone workin’ shinin’ sand, an’ they mak’ partner. to which the old redskin made no reply. One night Goldman strike my father wit’ “ What yo’ want?” shovel an’ take all grub an’ gold. He try Earp glanced at the stern visage of the run quick rapids wit’ canoe an’ he swamp. old warrior as if waiting corroborative as¬ He lose it all gold an’ break her leg on sent. rocks. My father live on berry an’ nuts “ PIZEN!1 277

an’ foller river an’ he find Goldman where had cached of the “ shining sand.£ He still he die, ’cause he lose it grub, too. That retained his allotment at the ’Quoddy re¬ other man is rob our traps an’ try shoot serve, and, though it had been nearly my father first.” twenty years since he had flung himself “ Sarved ’em right,” said Zig heavily. from the council-fire in a fit of anger, when “ But old Rod ain’t going to stop at find¬ he denounced them all as spineless, because ing our carcasses. He’s going to find out they had voted to erect schools and who or what did it. And sooner or later, churches that their children might be better they’re going to stumble onto you. Mebbe equipped to combat the newer element of this is their land and they’ll drive you so-called civilization, saner thought had out.” forced the hard-headed old warrior to admit There was silence at this, for they knew that they had been right. that he spoke the truth. He had guarded his secret here deep in “ Well, what all this?” the woods, and as last of his line he had “ Here’s my proposition. Let me and vowed to carry it to his grave, after he had Zig take up a claim next to yours, or where secured enough to insure comfort for him¬ we won’t interfere with you, and let us self and that of his girl. It was hard, but he work. We ain’t anxious to let in anybody had no choice. It was much better to share else if we can help it, and we can work at with two than a hundred, perhaps thou¬ least four months before Claflin’s crews sands. come in. We’ll furnish the grub from our Accordingly when Noela awoke to relieve wanigans and you can do the cooking to him, he told her of his decision. But the pay your share.” wanutch must allow him to keep all the “ An’ if we don’t.” guns and ammunition; they must furnish “ Then you might as well kill the both food; and, above all, they must not betray of us right now,” replied Earp boldly, “ for his confidence under penalty of death. if we can’t get in alone, then we intend to “Wa-layo (’Tis well),” said Noela. get in with a hundred. There’s prob’ly And both Earp and Zeigler had eagerly enough gold in that sluice for all of us, and agreed to the conditions. So it was that a it’s better for you to take a quarter share week later they again approached the In¬ than a hundredth, or none at all.” dian camp loaded with food and tools from The girl consulted her father. The old Claflin’s stores; the girl, with the aid of a Indian shook his heaci aggressively, his ges¬ tump-line, carrying a man’s load. tures and tone were eloquent of passion and Earp, a veteran of the Klondike and emphatic disapproval, and he eyed his pris¬ Yukon, was surprised at the crude equip¬ oners balefully. ment. The river-bed was of fine gravel, Earp fell asleep, but Zeigler lay awake a black sand, and clay, with a ten-foot beach long time watching the play of Noela’s fea¬ that seemed ideal. A twenty-foot sluice of tures by the firelight, until she caught up ^-hewn boards was built on a slight slant her blanket and stretched her length on the to the river. Perhaps half-way, in this hard ledge for a few hours’ sleep before she trough was a rude sieve made of inter¬ took her turn to watch, while her father woven hay wire that prevented the coarse slept. pebbles of the pay dirt from passing Alone with his thoughts, the old Indian through. had to admit the force of Earp’s argument. Below thiS'iyere a series of inlersticed The white man’s incursion was but a matter cleats nailed with wooden pegs; ahead of of time, and he had no wish to slay. He these riffles was sprinkled mercury to catch had been a fool not to have gone out to the gold particles by amalgamation. Port Bragg to restock his wanigan as he A scooped cedar piped a running stream had always done, and now he would have for “ wash ” through the sluice, which to bow to the inevitable. could be diverted by simply removing the After all, if he was forced out, he and his cedar trough. And this was the “ leadin’s Noela could live comfortably with what he in her riffle ” that Noela had referred to. 278 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ Goldman mak’ it,” said the girl. camps to replenish their wanigan, and the Earp and Zeigler lost no time in getting refreshing Noela, with her pack-basket and ■ to work. Even while Zig was pitching their head-strap, did a man’s work. Her rounded tent, Earp took his pick and shovel and body was as hard as that of a trained washed out a pan of dirt and was rewarded athlete’s, and she seemed almost tireless. with a few grains of “ color.” Not much, By the ist of September, Earp and Zeig¬ true, but enough to encourage. With a ler had a poke of nearly a thousand dollars, whoop he rushed to the camp-ground and with a growing lust for more, and the time showed the shining particles to Zeigler, who was nearing when Rod Claflin and his crew had begun to absorb some of his partner’s of timber waddies would bateau up the enthusiasm, and he threw himself into the Musquash. Then, either they must share grueling work with an ardor that surprised their secret, or take up their duties as lum¬ and pleased Earp. berjacks. Twice their “ patches ” gave out and they The first would be disastrous, physically moved farther up-stream, and as their poke as well as. financially, for they knew that grew day by day the fever burned its way Clawfoot would never rest until he “ got ” into the big man’s veins. He insisted on one or both of them. The second, they had an equal division each night, and growled no real liking for. After conferring with like an ugly bear if the day’s pan was Noela and Clawfoot, it was decided by a small. He learned to wash the dirt him¬ vote of three to one, Zeigler voting to the self, and it was agreed that each man should contrary, to go out to the camps. Their keep what he had panned in order to avoid supplies were giving out, anyway, and Earp the nightly argument. and Zeigler would welcome Claflin as But never was the giant too busy but though they had been there all the time. that he could stop and carry a pail of Both would then quit, stock up with food water from the river or chop up a stick of at Port Bragg with the money due from firewood for Noela. He looked forward, Claflin, then tote it across country to Bear with gusto, to the evening meal and the Tooth Falls. Except for an occasional trap¬ aftersupper pipe about the camp-fire, when per or lumber-explorer, no one ever traveled the talk invariably turned to trapping. that way, so the chance of discovery was He seemed metamorphosed into a differ¬ small. It was decided to go the following ent individual. His pale face took on color week, Zeigler giving in sullenly. and he crawled out of his shell of tactiturni- • From then on, he was as one obsessed. ty and related anecdotes of trapping in He was up at the first streaks of dawn and which he became egotistic, but displayed worked feverishly till dark, barely halting a dramatic intensity that was certainly to eat. Whereas, before, he cached his compelling. poke, now he carried it with him and guard¬ On the other side of the fire, old Claw- ed it jealously. foot smoked his calumet and dried “ squaw- One night, when Earp was adding his bush ” bark, while now and again the crow’s day’s panning to his little hoard, he caught feet about his eyes would deepen. That the giant eying the leather bag greedily. was his laugh. Earp shifted his hiding-place the next day. At these times Earp felt decidedly out And when Earp mentioned the fact that of place, for his knowledge of trapping was their food was reduced to half a strip of confined to the snaring of an occasional bacon, corn-meal and flour, and that they rabbit. He would plead being tired and would have to move a day sooner than they betake himself to his tent, long before Zeig¬ intended, Zeigler flew into a bellowing ler fumbled at the flaps. rage. But—never for a moment did the old While the others made preparations for warrior relax his vigilance. His rifle was the three-day trek, Zeigler spent the day always near his hand and the beautiful grubbing in the river-bed, mumbling sav¬ Noela was always under his watchful eye. agely into his matted beard, his sun- Twice they made the long trip to Claflin’s bleached locks straggling across his drawn, PIZEN! 279

pasty face, his outthrust, gorillalike head blankets, horses, and land for the hands of almost buried in the shallow pan as he their children in marriage, so Clawfoot was washed and scanned the residuum. To demanding a dowry of gold for Noela. Noela’s hail of “ chuckaway,” he merely waved his hand and worked until it was too dark to see. They had finished their CHAPTER VI. meager meal when he finally came in and DEATH WINS. sullenly attacked his rude fare. Earp retired to do some long-neglected 'T'HE trip to Claflin’s camps was made darning. The candle burned low before he without incident, except that Zeigler had finished, and he made his way to the “ bulled ” the pace. As on the previous Indian. «nmp to get another. At the edge occasion Noela and her father were en¬ of the clearing he paused to hail the camp, sconced in the long bunk-camp where a for it was a rule of Clawfoot’s that they canvas tarpaulin partitioned off a space in should not approach the camp at night with¬ the rear.for the girl. out warning, else he would assume that they The sun was crossing the celestial equa¬ were on mischief bent. tor, and the autumnal winds, colloquially Clawfoot

“ Wall, spit it out. Yes or no,” said strikes th’ Musquash jest foot o’ th’ gorge, Zig impatiently. an’ we can come in thataway. But I need “ What do you want with ten ounces ’bout ten ounces o’ dust, fust.” more, ’way up here?” “ Why not wait until after we come back Zig darted him a quick glance. “ That with our wanigan? You can dig ten ounces ain’t none o’ yer bizness,” he said sullenly. of your own inside of a month.” “ I jest want it, that’s all.” “ I want it now,” said Zig doggedly, his “ How are you going to pay your share voice rising with his mounting anger. “ An’ of the grub-stake if you make over your I’ll trade, fight, or gamble t’ git it. Why time to me?” won’t ye take my order? Ye know I got it “ I thought mebbe you’d stand it an’ cornin’, an’ ye know old Rod is good fer it. lemme pay out o’ th’ fust I take out.” We can tell him that ye beat me out o’ it, “ Oh, you did! ” retorted Earp sarcasti¬ gamblin’. Now what’s th’ defugelty?” cally. “ How do I know you’ll make good? “ Rod knows you ain’t a gambling man, You might die of—” and I doubt if he’d make good if he knew “ If I croaked then you’d git it anyway, it was a gambling bill. Besides, I want all ’cause what I don’t git, thar’ll be all th’ of my dust and as much more as I can get, more fer you. Ye can’t lose. Me an’ you and I tell you what I will do. You said are two o’ four, as knows ’bout that thar that you’d trade, fight, or gamble. I don’t place, an’ we’ve took out clus t’ three hun- want to trade for your time, and I wouldn’t derd a month. An’ while ye’re my partner, stand a ghost of a show with you in a rough- I don’t want ye hornin’ in my pussonal and-tumble. But we’re both got ’bout fifty ’fairs, so don’t ask questions.” ounces. You divide your poke in five equal “ See here, Zig, I know what you want piles and I’ll gamble for one or all of them ten ounces more for. I ain’t blind. But with dice, cards, or any way that gives take my advice and forget it. She’s pretty, both a fair show.” but—” ' It took some time for this proposition * Zeigler’s great paw closed over his shoul¬ to sink into the slow-working brain of the der and his whiskers bristled. giant, then his warted fist banged on the “ Car’ful, ’fore ye say suthin’ ye can’t table. The stakes were big, but he was take back,” he warned. “ Th’ old man is playing for a big stake. willin’ t’ have me fer a son-in-law, an’ I “ ’Greed,” he boomed. “ But ye’ve played ain’t cut out fer no highfalutin life same’s sol’ta’re with them frazzled cards so much ye tell ’bout in th’ cities. I’m a woodsman, that ye know every one on ’em by lookin’ born an’ bred, an’ a nice leetle home at at th’ backs. Yer dice is loaded, ’cause Dungle’ Landin’ is nearer my idee o’ livin’.” ye told me so yerself. I’ll match ye with “ You say that the old man is willing, coins, no less than five plays an’ no more ’n but is she?” asked Earp. In spite of him¬ ten.” self he felt a twinge of jealousy. “ ’Right,” assented Earp. He removed “ She’ll have t’ be. Hyar’s my plan. Ye his quilling materials to a stool beside the noticed that old Clawfoot brought out all table, and, trembling with the gambling th’ pelts they had? Th’ gal caught th’ fever, he got out his pouch and made of its most on ’em an’ I’m goin’ t’ gin ’em my contents five equal piles, spread on thin bundle o’ skins, too. They go to Dungle’ bark. Landin’ t’ trade ’em an’ wait fer me thar. Zeigler brought his “ kennebecker ” Soon’s Rod brings in his crew, an’ he’s due over to the table and placed it beside him ’most any day now, me an’ you quits, say- on the long “ deacon seat.” The ten piles in’ that we want a whirl at th’ city an’ of yellow metal glinted dully in the feeble paint it red, which is nateral, ’count o’ us light of the candle, and each man measured bein’ cooped up hyar fer a whole year, an’ the other’s hoard with envious eyes. we go out t’ th’ Landin’ whar me an’ th’ Zeigler’s hands were steady enough, but gaF git hitched. Clawfoot says thar’s a now his halibutlike eyes were as pin-points spotted trail as leads ’crost country an’ of fire; his face flushed, giving him an un- “ PIZEN!” 281

healthy, mottled appearance. Earp was the kettle and in two jumps'he was beside pale, his hands trembled, and he breathed the table, blind with rage. deeply. They played with big Canadian “You damn dirty skunk!” he yelled. copper and watched narrowly. “ Put back that pinch of dust you mooched At the end of five hands, Zeigler had from my pile.” won the first and fourth and Earp the Zig started to rise, with a growl in his other three. The latter raked in the last chest, his face working, his hamlike paws stake with a sigh of relief. Gambler though gripping the sides of the table. Once those he was, two hundred dollars on the turn great fingers curled around hs windpipe, of a coin was an agony of suspense. His Earp could expect no mercy. His wild eyes tongue and throat were parched dry with roved for a weapon and they lighted on his the excitement, and to steady his nerves steel quilling-awl. He clutched at this he poured himself a dipper of water from frenziedly, overturning the stool and scat¬ the steaming kettle on the stove and set tering the quills. the half-emptied cup beside him. Two “ I didn’t—” hundred to the good, he rubbed his sweaty One of the needlelike quills drove into hands together gleefully. the giant’s shoeless foot. He gave a star¬ “ Wanta quit?” he taunted with a grin. tled glance downward and Earp lunged for¬ For answer, Zig pushed out a chip of ward with all his weight behind the thrust bark loaded with ten ounces of dust and of the awl. The sharp, triangular point shook his coin between cupped palms. He struck Zeigler in the temple and drove its lost three in succession, leaving him with way to the brain. His grip on the table but one pile, loser of eight hundred, a small prevented him from falling. Instead he fortune to him; yet he was the calmer of the slumped down on the bench, his face buried two. He played with oxlike deliberation, in the yellow dust, the awl still protruding, while Earp was quick and jerky. grotesquely, from his head. Zeigler was the better gambler because Earp went sick at the sight and to prevent he could win or lose without outward emo¬ the rising nausea, he caught up the half- tion, but inwardly he was seething. Once filled dipper and drained it at a gulp. He or twice his eyes roved toward his opened felt it curdling its way to his stomach. His kennebecker beside him. eyes gradually widened, his mouth fell They were unaware of the rising wind agape, and he tried to steady himself. A that swooped down the watercourse and convulsive twitch racked his frame, and rattled the little shack; nor were they aware with a strained groan he stiffened, half that a figure, in passing the window, had turned, and sprawled across the table. The caught sight of the littered gold and was spasms ceased. Gripped in the hands of now peering through a crack in the chink¬ Zeigler was an empty eight-ounce vial of ing. The late burning candle had excited “ fox-pizen,” strychnin sulphate. A few Clawfoot’s curiosity. grains were yet undissolved in the dipper. Nerves like tautened catgut, their minds Ten minutes later, after they had gath¬ were so engrossed in the game .that when ered up the scattered gold, two figures were the kettle boiled over, both jumped as if feeling their way through the murky night shot. It continued to sizzle and steam toward Bear Tooth Falls. On the well- and Earp rose to take it off. The metal molded features of one was a look of relief; handle had become heated, so he pulled on the leathery visage of the other a smile. down the tattered sleeve of his shirt to The figures of two men lay half asprawl protect his hand, and from the comer of across a rude table, and the feeble rays his eye, he caught the shadow of Zeigler’s of the guttering candle threw writhing, quickly withdrawn hand that had hovered, polymorphous shadows against the log walls for a second over on Earp’s end of the table. of the camp. All without was black night, One of his piles had a slight scoop in it shrouding in its ebony blanket a vast waste as if some had been taken. He dropped of primeval wood, deep, infinite, mysterious. (The I. of their married life, to his wife’s positive knowledge. She accepted the evidence of IT was characteristic of Mrs. Willoughby her keen nose, as she helped him off with that her cheeks did not blanch nor her his overcoat, that his record for abstemi¬ knees quake with fright, as her listening ousness was still unbroken. ears again detected that faint metallic “ What is it? Tell me, quick!” scraping at the front door. He passed his hand dazedly across his Alone in the apartment on the maid’s forehead. day out, and counting the silver in the “ I’m down with something; don’t know dining-room, her first thought was what what,” he thickly explained. “ Came on would have flashed into the mind of any me all of a sudden, ’bout two hours ago. woman under the same circumstances; a Had to shut m’ desk and quit office. Chills flat-sneak was trying to break in. and fever; ache in every bone; so weak Very quietly, the still pretty and girlishly and dizzy can hardly stand—grippe, may¬ slender lady replaced the knives and forks be, or ’tack typhoid. Anyway, I’m sick.” and spoons in her hands in the felt-lined That he admitted it, who usually made drawer of the sideboard. Then, stepping light of his own and others’ ailments, was back into the room—she waited. enough to guarantee what his appearance Almost immediately her tense pose re¬ indicated—that he was really ill. And his laxed. The doubtful crease remained be¬ wife bustled into action. tween her browiT, however. The key she “ You go right to bed,” said she, “ and had heard inserted in the lock was guided I’ll telephone for Dr. Hilton at once.” by her husband’s hand. But what could Giving the girl at the switchboard in have brought him home at that hour in the down-stairs hall of the apartment house the afternoon? the physician’s number, she waited at the “ Why, Henry—” She stopped short wall-phone in the tiny reception room off in the doorway. “ Henry! What’s the living-room. A minute passed. She happened?” moved the receiver-hook up and down. No With both hands groping along the wall heed was paid to that signal of her im¬ to aid_his tottering legs in supporting him, patience. Another minute, two, dragged her spouse was advancing toward her down by. And then she heard the quick, tired the hall as though the “ p” in the word voice of a central operator. was silent. And yet Henry Willoughby had “ What number did you call?” never touched a drop of any stimulant Mrs. Willoughby repeated it, slowly and stronger than tea in all the fourteen years distinctly. 282 THE PATIENT THAT WASN’T. 283

“ River 90933,” the girl parroted after This was serious, Mrs. Willoughby told her, with the usual senseless rolling of the herself as she straightened. She would “ r ” in three—as if that numeral could pos¬ have to get into her things and run around sibly be confused with any other. “ One to Dr. Hilton’s. Ten minutes was all it moment, please.” would take her to go to the physician’s Sighing, Mrs. Willoughby resigned her¬ house and return. Her husband would be self to wait at least sixty of them longer. all right where he was in the mean time. “ River 90933 doesn’t answer,” the bored And she could leave a note pinned to the feminine voice at the other end of the wire pillow beside his head, to let him know informed her. where she had gone and that she was com¬ “Doesn’t answer!” the lady incredu¬ ing right back, in case he should wake up lously exclaimed. during her brief absence. “ No, ma’am. There’s been a short- In her snug-fitting velvet tarn, overshoes circuit, or some other damage to the line. and fur coat—for the two days’ snow-storm It ’ll be repaired as soon as possible, but that had ended that morning had been fol¬ the phone is temporarily out of order.” lowed By one of the freezing spells for Mrs. Willoughby hung up. Since she which New York’s winter climate is justly couldn’t reach their regular physician by infamous—she took a final look at him. telephone, perhaps she ought to call up the And then she went quickly and quietly out one who lived on the ground floor of the of the apartment. building. But she knew nothing of his Exactly twelve minutes had elapsed, by skill, while Dr. Hilton had proved his to the clock on the mantel in the living-room, her own and her husband’s satisfaction. when Mrs. Willoughby put her key cau¬ And the latter’s case might be one that tiously into the lock and opened the door should be taken into competent hands at only wide enough to admit her, closing it once, if he was to escape a long siege of softly again. The ticking of the timepiece sickness. She hastened into his room to was all that disturbed the silence of the look after him. apartment. It was just as she had left it Henry was already in bed, with the —or so it seemed. covers drawn up to his ears and his face She tiptoed down the hall to the half¬ turned to the wall. His clothes were piled open door of her husband’s room, and in a careless heap on the chair in front of peeped in. And then she swung the door the bureau. If he was aware of the fact wide open and stepped across the threshold. that his wife was standing at his side, he “ Henry!” did not lift his head or open his eyes to There was no response. Her husband show it. was no longer lying in the bed. And yet it “ Feeling any better?” she inquired soli¬ was strange that a man as sick as he had citously. “ Can I get you anything; a appeared to be could have risen from it glass of water, or a hot-water bag for your unaided. feet?” She went into the dining-room, and He made no answer; not even by a nod through it into the kitchen, the maid’s or a shake of his head. Bending over him, room, her own bedchamber, the bath-room she placed her hand on his feverish brow. and the reception and living rooms. Henry His pulse, as she took his wrist in her hand wasn’t there. to count it, was excitedly racing. His But this passed belief. He couldn’t have breathing was heavy, and sounded labored. got up and gone out of the house during She covered him up snugly again. the short space of time that she had been But how peculiar, that he should go on away from it. Not without being gathered lying there without stirring, without a into the arms of the police, at least. For word! She felt of his hot forehead again. there were his clothes still lying on the Still her touch failed to bring him out of chair where he had left them. the stupor into which he seemed to have She hesitated for a moment, and then sunk. went into the room to examine the win- 284 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

dow. It was locked securely on the in¬ on his return, that the stairs were empty. side. So was every other one in the apart¬ Mrs. Willoughby uncertainly regarded the ment, as she went through it again to find flight leading up to the roof. Accompanied out. The dumb-waiter door was also fas¬ by the obliging elevator operator, she tened on the kitchen side. So he couldn’t mounted to the top floor of the building. have fallen down the shaft, or out of any The roof door was fastened on the inside. one of the windows, in an attack of vertigo. Nevertheless, she opened it and stepped She went to the telephone. out for a moment on the roof. It was de¬ “ Will you ask Lester to come up, serted; the white mantle that covered its 'please?” she requested of the young woman tin hideousness was unmarked by a single at the switchboard. footprint. Opening the -front door of the apartment, “ You surely can’t be looking for your she listened to .the whirring of the elevator husband! ” incredulously began the hall-boy cables as the car ascended in response to behind her. her summons. The door rolled back, and a “ Oh, no! ” hastily disclaimed Mrs. Wil¬ trimly uniformed West Indian youth loughby, stepping in and refastening the stepped out. door, with a light, mirthless laugh. “ Of “ Yes, Mrs. Willoughby?” He spoke course not! Which apartment does that with the politeness and perfect enunciation large man with the black mustache live of- one of the characters in an English draw¬ in, Lester,” she inquired, as they began ing-room comedy. the descent of the stairs—“ the one who “ Have you seen Mr. Willoughby go looks like a retired policeman or a de¬ out?” tective?” “ Why, no; not since I took him up fif¬ “ I don’t believe I know who you mean,” teen or twenty minutes ago.” The hall- the youth told her, his tone puzzled. boy’s eyebrows were raised in mild sur¬ Mrs. Willoughby turned at the door of prise. “ He said he wasn’t feeling well, her apartment. as I could easily see for myself was the “ Think! ” she ordered. “ Now, do you case—” mean to tell me that you haven’t taken a “ You’re, sure,” the lady broke in, and heavily built, thick-mustached man in a then she stopped, with an impatient shake brown derby hat and a dark ulster up in of her head. “ But, of course you’d know your car within the past half-hour—any it if you took him down in the elevator. time at all to-day?” There are the stairs, though—” “ I haven’t seen such a man; no, “ It would be impossible for your hus¬ ma’am.” band or any one else to leave the building “ You’re—” she faltered—“ you’re in that way, Mrs. Willoughby,” the young sure?” man pointed out. “ Due to the settling of “ Positive.” the house, the steps were in such bad con¬ Pushing open the door, Mrs. Willoughby dition that the building commissioner ord¬ withdrew her hand from one of the pockets ered them repaired last week, if you re¬ of her coat and dropped something shining member. The workmen are busy now be¬ on the young man’s palm. tween the third and second floors; and no “ Thank you, Lester,” said she. “ And one can go either up or ,down the stairway I’ll appreciate it if you won’t say anything beyond that point.” about this to any one until I see you again.” Mrs. Willoughby thoughtfully took her She shut the door. Walking down the trembling lower lip between her thumb and hall once more to her husband’s room, she forefinger. pulled off her hat and brushed the damp “ I wish you’d go down as far as that, hair back from her forehead. It was Lester, and see if you can find—find any¬ crinkled in perplexity, as she looked in at body,” said she. “-Please don’t, stop now the man’s head on the pillow. to ask any questions, but hurry!” For, although Henry Willoughby was no The hall-boy obeyed. He reported, up¬ longer there, the bed held an occupant. THE PATIENT THAT WASN’T. 285

The stranger she had just described to the occupancy of Henry’s bed from the realm hall-boy was lying under the covers! of the miraculous and place it in that of the matter-of-fact. She walked briskly in¬ II. to the room and halted at the bedside. To find her husband gone—vanished into “ I beg your pardon!” she addressed the thin air—was one thing. Of course, there intruder. was really nothing supernatural about his Apparently her words fell on deaf ears. disappearance, in spite of the fact that he She placed her hand on his shoulder and was certainly no longer in the apartment, shook him. Even that failed to rouse him and that he had not been seen to leave the from the coma in which he, too, seemed to building, which made it impossible that be lying. He hadn’t been drinking. But he could have done so. he might be under the influence of some There was some simple explanation of drug, for all she could tell. And so might where he had gone that she would be sure Henry. She hadn’t thought of that before. to discover when she set her wits to the Out of his mind, as a result of the drop¬ task. It was nonsense to suppose that he ping of some nameless powder into his food could flicker out like a flame of a candle at lunch time by a personal or business in a gust of wind, leaving not a trace of enemy, her husband had wandered away— his going behind. but that was rubbish, she checked herself. But to find this unknown man in his Wandered where? Clad only in his night¬ place, apparently materialized by the wave gown, with the thermometer outside stand¬ of a magician’s wand, since she had the ing at two degrees above zero! The im¬ hall-boy’s word for it that he did not live passable condition of the stairway, and the in the building, and the fact that Lester untracked snow on the roof, which proved had not taken him up in the elevator, left that it had not been visited, left the elevator no possible way for him to have reached as the only, means by which he could have that apartment on the sixth floor of the escaped from the building, and he hadn’t house—well, it was slightly different. used that. This was not the first time Mrs. Wil¬ She shook the man in bed again—taking loughby had seen the stranger lying there, both hands to it, this time. The only effect with one arm outstretched toward the wall her strenuous efforts to rouse him had upon to which his closed eyes were turned; proof the heavy stranger was to quicken his thick enough of the fact that she wasn’t dream¬ breathing. She stood contemplating him ing. She did n6t smile over the ironic from under a baffled frown. thought which crossed her mind, that in his From the blue pajama-sleeve on his ex¬ presence she was confronted by a mystery posed arm, her eyes traveled to the pile of coming and going—her husband’s going clothing, topped by a brown derby hat, from the flat and this man’s arrival there. on the chair beside the other one that held It would not have been surprising if the her husband’s garments. Perhaps she lady had acknowledged with a scream the could at least discover his identity by fact that her nerves had slipped from her searching his pockets, since she was unable control as a result of the unusualness of to learn from his own lips who he was, the situation with which she was face to what he was doing in the apartment, and face. Doubtless it was what nine women how he had got there. out of ten would have done. Either that, A bunch of keys, watch and chain, hand¬ or they would have run to the telephone to kerchief, a filled cigar-case, half-empty call in the police or the neighbors. Mrs. match-safe, and a Russian-leather bill-fold Willoughby shut her teeth with a decisive —those things Mrs. Willoughby brought to click, instead. She meant to get to the light from the stranger’s ulster and blue bottom of this—alone, for the present. serge suit. But that was all. She failed Just as there must be an explanation to to find a card, a letter, or a scrap of paper account for her husband’s vanishing, so one of any sort by which she could gain a clue must exist that would remove this man’s as to his name, or where he had come from. 286 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Not even the customary initials were in And none of the tenants, attracted by his his hat, and the case of his watch and the raving, could have come in and taken him gold-trimmed pocketbook were without a out of that flat into theirs, thinking him monogram. alone there. They would have seen the She opened the wallet, and her eyes wid¬ note that was still pinned to his pillow, to ened as they gazed at its contents. Bills of tell where she had gone and how quickly large denominations, twenties, fifties and she intended to return, which would have hundreds—she needed to run the ends of deterred anybody with a grain of common but a third of them under her thumb, to sense from removing him, at least without realize that here was more money than she leaving a message concerning his where¬ had ever before held all at one time. abouts that would allay her anxiety when Alone in the flat with a strange man and she came back. that small fortune in ready cash, and under Then where was he? In spite of her such utterly incomprehensible circum¬ unemotional nature, and the effort she was stances—it was no wonder that Mrs. Wil¬ making to keep a grip on herself, Mrs. loughby, with the pocketbook clutched Willoughby felt an odd chill stealing up tightly in her hands, sat down weakly on her spine to the roots of her hair. the side of the bed. The situation was unbelievable—weirdly She rose, the next moment, and began to so. There was no way she could think of put back his belongings in the stranger’s that the man she saw very much alive, if clothes, methodically restoring each article utterly helpless, in her husband’s bed could to the pocket from which she had taken it. have got there. . And no way under the The wallet, with its precious contents, she sun, so far as she could see, that Henry shoved well down in the inner breast pock¬ could have been spirited away without leav¬ et of his coat, folding the carelessly dis¬ ing a single trace behind. carded ulster and placing it on top of it But he hadn’t gone out of the house. as a further safeguard. Then she stepped If it was impossible that he could have left back and unbuttoned her coat, which she the apartment, he must still be in it. She had as yet neglected to take off. hadn’t half searched the place yet. There was one thing her discovery of He might be lying gagged and trussed all that money in that unknown man’s up under a bed or in a closet, at that clothes had proved to her; her husband’s moment. Her imagination painted with disappearance was not the result of foul lightning strokes, the scene that had fol¬ play of any sort. lowed her going from the flat. She saw Suppose, just for the sake of supposing, this stalwart, dark-mustached man enter it that he had been kidnaped for ransom by by the fire escape—that was how he had got a mysterious band of miscreants, who pos¬ in there—to drag poor Henry from the bed sessed the secret of the fourth dimension. and fell him with a blow. Then he had tied Would they have taken him away, and left him up and hidden him away. After which this person, with several thousand dollars in —well, he might be a lunatic, as his un¬ his possession, behind? provoked attack upon her husband proved, And yet Henry had never left that apart¬ and so he had undressed and gone to bed ment of his own free will and volition. in the other’s place and fallen asleep. That was another thing of which his wife Did crazy people slumber so soundly that was absolutely sure. Even if he had be¬ no amount of talking to them and shaking come delirious after she had gone, and them could wake them up? And were they started from the house in his nightclothes, in the habit of carrying blue suits of paja¬ his appearance in that unconventional cos¬ mas around with them in which to take ad¬ tume at the door of any one of the neigh¬ vantage of every opportunity that presented boring apartments—the only place left that itself to them to snatch forty winks? he could have vanished to—would have Mrs. Willoughby pressed her hands to set the building in a turmoil long before her throbbing temples. The thing was too this. much for her mind to cope with. Yet she THE PATIENT THAT WASN’T. 287

clung to the only sensible thought it had “The closet!” Mrs. Willoughby cried. evolved so far out of the wholly incredible “ What closet? What does all this mean—” state of affairs—her husband must still be “ The closet in your bedroom. You’ve in the apartment. She turned, to begin to got to get the letters away from her, if search it from end to end. you can. It’s important—” And then the telephone rang. That was all Mrs. Willoughby heard, for' With a sigh of relief, she ran to answer a moment. She had lowered the receiver it. It would be Dr. Hilton, calling up to in her right hand and transferred it to her let her know he had got the word of her left. Perhaps there was something the mat¬ husband’s illness which , she had left with ter with the ear with which she had been the maid, and that he was coming right listening. She would try the other one. But when she applied the receiver to it, Now that man in Henry’s bed would tell she heard nothing—only the faint humming what he was doing there. The doctor would of the wire which proved that it was no know how to bring him to. And when he longer in use. had explained his presence in the house, she “ Hello—hello, central!” felt sure that the mystery of how her hus¬ She rattled the hook desperately. They band had gone from sight in it would be had been disconnected, or her husband had cleared up as well. rung off. And she was still ignorant of his But it was not the physician who was whereabouts, of how he had got outside of telephoning. Mrs. Willoughby almost the apartment house— dropped the receiver from her ear, as she “ Number, please?” requested the unin¬ heard the unmistakable deep tones of her terested voice of central. husband’s voice! “ Put my husband—the person I was just speaking with, back on the wire!” III. breathlessly ordered Mrs. Willoughby. “ Hello, Maria! ” “ He may get tired of trying to call me “ Henry—where are you? How—” back, and ring off—” “ I’m all right. Don’t worry about me.” “ The party has rung off,” central in¬ “ But you’re sick—” formed her. “ I was, but I’m not any longer. Feel Mrs. Willoughby groaned. great!” His voice certainly sounded as “ Then find out where the call came though he did. “ And now, listen to what from,” she pleaded—“ hurry, central, I say!” please!” “ I want to know where you are,” Mrs. There was a minute’s pause. Willoughby interrupted, “ and how you got “ The party rang you up from a coin¬ out of this house without—” box phone in a corner cigar store,” the “ No time for that now,” he broke in. operator reported. “ That’s all the informa¬ “ I’ll explain later. Listen to me, and do tion I can give you—I’m breaking the rules as I tell you. You’ve got to see Caroline.” by telling you even that much.” Mrs. Willoughby’s lips formed the word Mrs. Willoughby thanked the girl, and soundlessly before she could repeat it: hung up. “ Caroline?” She rubbed her forehead dazedly once “ Yes. You haven’t seen her yet, have more. Before her she had a mental picture you?” of her husband, clad in the old-fashioned “ Who—what on earth are you talking nightgown that was his sole article of attire, about, Henry? I don’t.know anybody by entering a cigar store and dropping a nickel that name.” into the slot of a public phone to call “ I know it. But you’re going to, in just her up! a few moments more,” her husband Crypti¬ If anything had been needed to deepen cally informed her. “ She’s in the closet. the mystery with which she had to deal, I want you to try to get those letters away surely this was it. She walked aimlessly from her—” into the living-room. 288 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

The fire escape outside the window met the one whose presence in the house she her idle gaze. She crossed the room and had most recently become aware of—in¬ regarded the iron structure through the formed her sweetly, as she seated herself frosted pane. The snow that covered it in the armchair beside the center table in was as undisturbed as that on the roof; the living-room to which Mrs. Willoughby which proved it was not how the strange had followed her. “ Now, what would you man in her husband’s bed had entered the like to know first?” apartmerJh That end of the two-sided rid¬ “ Who you are.” Mrs. Willoughby dle remained unsolved as before, therefore. grimly sat down before her. What Henry had said to her over the The girl—she was not more than twenty, phone about the closet in her bedroom Mrs. Willoughby decided, and prettier than flashed back into her mind. Some woman she had first thought—laughed with un¬ with whom she was unacquainted—al¬ affected amusement. though her husband knew her well enough “ W7hy, I’m—I’m Caroline!” she an¬ to call her by her first name—-was in there. nounced. “ I heard your husband telling Was he crazy, or had she gone out of her you about me over the phone only a minute mind? If she should find that the apart¬ or two ago.” ment was occupied by another stranger be¬ Mrs. Willoughby nodded unsmilingly. sides that man in her husband’s room— “ Caroline what?” well, she would begin to believe that she “ Just Caroline, for the present, will do.” had lost her reason, indeed. “ And how did you get in here?” Turning, she went out into the hall of “ That’s one of the things I mustn’t tell the flat and walked slowly along it to her you. At least, not now.” room. Entering it, with the same halting “ Do you know that we are not alone?” steps, she stopped in front of the double Mrs. Willoughby leaned forward to inquire. doors of the closet beside her dressing- “ That there is a strange man in my hus¬ table. What would she discover when she band’s room?” opened it? Obviously, the only way to find “ He may be a stranger to you,” ob¬ out was to throw the doors wide and see. served the girl, with twinkling eyes, “ but Drawing in a deep breath, she did so. he’s not to me!” She expelled her breath, in an amazed “ You know him, then? Tell me how he gasp, the next moment. Confronting her got into this apartment—” was a fashionably attired and beautiful “ I’m sorry, but I can’t. I don’t mean young woman. She stepped out, with a that I don’t know how he did it. For I smile, and loosened the rich fur stole that do—that part of it is really very simple.” was draped around her shoulders. Mrs. Willoughby cleared her throat. “It was warm in there,” she remarked “ Er—would you object to telling me calmly—' quite stuffy, as a matter of fact.” how long you have known my husband?” By a supreme effort, Mrs. Willoughby “ Not very long.” The girl dropped her recovered herself. eyes. “ But long enough for us both to “ Perhaps,” she suggested, in a tone that learn that we are very dear to each other.” very creditably imitated the calmness of the Could she believe her ears? Mrs. Wil¬ other woman’s—“ perhaps you’ll find the loughby asked herself. Henry, her model living-room more comfortable. The room husband, had been leading a double life, at the end of the hall,” she explained, as according to this young woman’s reply. the other turned, with a pleasant nod of as¬ What else could it mean? And yet she sent, toward the door, “ where you can sit could not believe that anything so awful, down while you tell me what you are doing so entirely.out of keeping with his staid here, how you got into my apartment, and character, would really be so. Not with¬ several other things that I should like to out further proof of it, at least. ask you.” “There were some letters my husband “ Of course, I’ll tell you as much or as spoke of you having,” she began. little as I feel like,” her newest guest—or The girl nodded. She drew a package THE PATIENT THAT WASN’T. 289

from her muff and held it up. Even at under the table and the sink. Lifting the that distance, Mrs. Willoughby had no dif¬ top of the laundry tubs, she looked into ficulty in recognizing her husband’s hand¬ them. There was nobody there. The cup¬ writing on the first envelope of the quite board likewise held nothing but the dishes sizable buhdle. She put out her hand. in their customary places on the shelves. “ He wanted me to take them from Acting on a sudden thought, she tiptoed to you—” the door and listened. “ Give his letters to you, his wife?” the Not a sound reached her ears in the flat. other cried, hastily putting them back in her She went back to the living-room, looking muff, and rising. “ No, no! You sha’n’t into ail the other rooms on both sides of have them, and he should' not have the hall as she did so. Her feminine visitor asked—” had gone. “Stop!” Mrs. Willoughby had also Her suggestion that she examine the risen. “ This has gone far enough now. kitchen had just been a ruse, then, to per¬ You are going to tell me the truth—'all of mit her to escape from the apartment. Mrs. it. Just what you are to my husband, and Willoughby walked back, to her husband’s what he is to you; how you got into that room. closet, and who that man in his room is The man in his bed hadn’t moved. She and -how he got in—” shut her lips determinedly, as she regarded The girl interrupted with a laugh—a him. Before she did another thing, she coldly mocking one, this time. would make that thorough search of the flat “ You are going to force me to do all which she had been prevented from carry¬ that, I suppose?” she suggested. ing out by her husband’s inexplicable tele¬ “ I am,” Mrs. Willoughby replied, taking phoning to her. Perhaps she would uncover a determined step toward her. something in some one of the rooms that “Just one moment, please!” the girl she had not as yet minutely explored, that checked her. She regarded Mrs. Willough¬ would solve the mystery of how this stran¬ by with a contemptuously pitying smile. ger had got into the house. “ Before you go any further, I advise you She went back to the kitchen and entered to see what’s in the kitchen.” the maid’s room adjoining it. Opening the Involuntarily, Mrs. Willoughby cast a closet there, she had satisfied herself that startled look behind her. Was it possible no one was concealed in it—when again she that the house, from which she had been paused to listen. Had she only imagined absent for only a trifle more than ten min¬ that she heard somebody moving about in utes all day long, held still further startling the living-room? revelations for her? She started up the hall to it. As she “ I imagine what you’ll find there will did so, she thought she saw a flash of some¬ surprise you,” the girl told her, with a thing blue at the half-open door of her hus¬ knowing nod, as Mrs. Willoughby uncer¬ band's bedroom. There was nobody in the tainly regarded her. living-room; it seemed to be just as she had She had already been in the kitchen and left it. She went to the door of Henry’s discovered nothing unusual there, the older room and looked at the man in the bed. woman reflected. But she had been in her He was lying there in exactly the same bedroom, too, without suspecting the other’s position. presence there. Perhaps, concealed in the Mrs. Willoughby glanced into the small china cupboard, under the sink, or in the reception room. And she stiffened, her washtubs, she might find—what? eyes fixed on one point. When she had re¬ Turning, she went out of the room and placed The receiver on the hook of the tel- down the hall to the other end of the flat. phone at the conclusion of the brief con¬ The kitchen, as she viewed it frpm the door¬ versation she had held over it with her hus¬ way, looked quite natural. Stepping into band, she had not hung it upside down. it, she gazed around the walls and up at And that was the position it was now in. the ceiling. Then she stooped and looked She stepped to the door of her husband’s 8 Argosy 290 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

room, noiselessly withdrew the key from there, have gone to Atlantic City for the the inner side of it, and closed and week-end. Lester let me in with the pass¬ locked it. key that he borrowed from the janitor—•” Despite the fact that he seemed to be “ But he told me he hadn’t seen you!” lying in exactly the same attitude in the bed Mrs. Willoughby incredulously broke in. as when she had last looked at him, that “ He told you what wasn’t so, my dear,” man must have risen and used the telephone her husband smilingly informed her. “ I while she had been at the other end of paid him to do it. Just as I did the girl the flat. Whatever he was up to, she had at the switchboard, to disguise her voice cornered him now. He couldn’t get out and pretend to be central when you tried of that room until she had telephoned for to call up Dr. Hilton, and again when you the police. She hastened toward the phone. wanted to find out where I had called you And then she stopped. Somebody was up from.” at the front door of the apartment. For “ Then he had taken that man I found the second time that afternoon, she heard lying in your bed up in the elevator?” the familiar grating of her husband’s key “ Sure thing. He came in with me, and in the lock. The next moment he had waited in the next flat until you’d gone. swung the door wide to hail her, with a I let him know the coast was clear, then, jubilant grin: and he popped in here. Do you see?” “ Congratulations, old girl—you win!” Mrs. Willoughby sat narrowly regarding her husband. IV. “ And you weren’t sick at all when you It was not the strangeness of his greet¬ first came home?” ing which held Mrs. Willoughby spell¬ “ Not a bit. Simply acting the part.” bound. Her wide eyes took in the fact She shook her head helplessly. that Henry was not attired only in his “ What I don’t see,” she announced, “ is nightgown. He was wearing an overcoat what you did it all for. Making me think and a suit of clothes that she had never you’d disappeared as if by magic, and that seen before. She drew back, as he at¬ another man had taken your place in bed tempted to seize her in his arms with an in the same way; and that girl in the closet . unwonted display of affection. in my bedroom, too—” “ Perhaps,” she said coldly, “ you’ll tell “ You’ll understand that,” her husband me where you’ve been now, and what all of put in, “ and all the rest of it, a great deal this means—” quicker by letting me talk. To begin with, “I will!” he promised, with the same a man I didn’t suppose I’d ever seen be¬ breathless exuberance. “ Come in and sit fore called on me at the office this morning. down, and I’ll explain every thing to you. He was the man you found in my bed. By But I’d like to hug you, just once, to show the way, where is he now?” you what a brick I think you are—” “ Locked in your room,” grimly an¬ “ You’d better explain, first,” Mrs. Wil¬ swered his wife. loughby dryly told him—“ that is, if you Henry leaned back in his chair and can.” laughed. Wiping his eyes, he regarded her “ Why, that’s the easiest thing in the with a wondering shake of his head. world!” “You’re great!” said he. “But I “ Is it?” Her tone was sarcastically in¬ haven’t just discovered that fact—not by terested. “ You can tell me how you were a long shot! ” able to leave this house in nothing but your “ Go on,” Mrs. Willoughby requested. -nightclothes, and return to it fully “ Well, there’s no use of my asking you dressed—”, to guess who he turned out to be, because “ I only stepped into the apartment next you’d never be able to, any more than I door,” he interrupted, with a smile, “ where cojild at first. You’ve heard of Tolliver I had this complete ready-made outfit Gunn, the famous private detective, haven’t stored away. The Jacksons, who live you? That’s who he was. Only, as it THE PATIENT THAT WASN’T. 291

happens, that isn’t his real name. He’s I had left them, and no apparent way that my Uncle Horace, on my father’s side. He I could possibly have got out of the house. had his daughter with him—” To give your nerves an added jolt, there’d “ Whose name, as it happens, is Caro¬ be a strange man in my place. If you didn't line?” she quickly interjected. begin to shriek and run around in dizzy “ My cousin,” he assented, with a nod. circles after that, you surely would when “ Well, Uncle Horace coolly informed you found a woman in the flat with a me that he had hunted me up for the pur¬ bunch of letters in my handwriting in her pose of turning over to me one third of possession, which would indicate that she the fortune he had accumulated at the end was your rival. Or else you would have of twenty years of successfully tracking demonstrated the fact that you were what down big criminals, getting evidence in di¬ I claimed you were—another woman in a vorce cases among the rich swells, and so million. In which case, we’d get the money. on. He’s retired, with mord money, than “ By playing the part of the strange man he and his daughter could possibly spend; in my bed, Uncle Horace would be right and as I was the only other living relative where he could watch you every minute and he had, he’d decided to make me rich while see how you took things. I told him he he was alive and could have the fun of could give me a ring in the flat next door, watching me enjoy the money. when he was satisfied that I knew you “ Then I told him I was married, and better than he thought he did. He called the deal was all off. He had little or no me up less than five minutes ago—” use for women, he told me. They flew “ But why didn’t you tell me what you into a panic at the least little thing out of wanted me to do, as soon as you came the ordinary that happened around them. home?” exclaimed Mrs. Willoughby, who That was his main grievance against the had ris$n from her chair with flushed cheeks sex. His daughter was different. She and sparkling eyes. “ It wasn’t necessary would be cool as a cucumber even while to keep me in the dark all this while, when the kindlings were being lighted at her feet I could have acted the part—” to burn her at the stake, I learned from “ But you wouldn’t have fooled Uncle him. She was one woman in a million. Horace—a detective with all his years of “ Well, so were you, I told him. Nothing experience,” her husband pointed out. “ I that had happened in the fourteen years had to let you go through with the thing, we’d been married had thrown you into a just as I did. I knew all along that when duck fit. Calmness under extraordinary I was betting on you, I was backing a sure circumstances was your middle name. Was" thing—just as you’ve proved.” I willing to put you to the test? he asked “ How much,” asked his wife, “ is he me. And I said I was. going to give us?” “ So he figured this thing out. First, I’d He told her. come home as if I was sicker than you’d “ Gracious! ” gasped Mrs. Willoughby, ever seen me before. If that didn’t make opening her eyes in her husband’s arms a you lose your head, you’d drop in a swoon moment later. “ It’s a lucky thing I locked when you got back from the doctor’s to him in that room, or we’d have lost the find me gone, with my clothes right where money just now—if he’d seen me faint!”

LIKE A V/HIRLWIND! “BEAU RAND” BY CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER Author of " Riddle Gawne/' ** Square Deal Sanderson/' etc.

IS COMING NEARER AND NEARER! aKe^Huke of (^fii mney^utte* If George Wasfiin^on O^den

ir of " The Listener,” ete.

CHAPTER XIX. Lambert felt that this was the place to interfere. He called Taterleg. THE SENTINEL. “ All right, duke; I’m a cornin’,” Taterleg THERE appeared in the light of the answered. hotel door for a moment the figures The door opened, revealing the one- of struggling men, followed by the armed proprietor entering the house; re¬ sound of feet in flight down the steps, and vealing a group of men and women, bare¬ somebody mounting a horse in haste at the headed, as they had rushed to the hotel at hotel hitching-rack. Whoever this was rode the sound of the shooting; revealing Tater¬ away at a hard gallop. leg coming down the steps, his box of chew¬ Lambert knew that the battle was over, ing gum under his arm. and as he came to the hitching-rack he saw Wood fastened the door back in its ac¬ that Taterleg’s horse was still there. So customed anchorage. His neighbors closed he had not fled. Several voices sounded round where he stood explaining the affair, from the porch in excited talk, among them his stump of arm lifting and wagging, and Taterleg’s, proving that he was uninjured. pointing in the expressionless gestures com¬ His uneasiness gone, Lambert stood a lit¬ mon to a man thus maimed. tle while in front, well out in the dark, try¬ “ Are you hurt?” Lambert inquired. ing to pick up what was being said, but “ No, I ain’t hurt none, duke.” with little result, for people were arriving Taterleg got aboard of his horse with with noise of heavy boots to learn the cause nothing more asked of him or volunteered of the disturbance. on his part. They had not proceeded far Taterleg held the floor for a little while, when his indignation broke bounds. his voice severe as if he laid down the law. “ I ain’t hurt, but I’m swinged like a fool Alta replied in what appeared to be indig¬ miller moth in a lamp chimley,” he com¬ nant protest, then fell to crying. There plained. was a picture of her in the door a moment “ Who was that shootin’ around so being led inside by her mother, blubbering darned careless?” into her hands. The door slammed after “ Jedlick, dem him!” them, and Taterleg was heard to say in a “ It’s a wonder he didn’t kill somebody loud, firm voice: up-stairs somewhere.” “ Don’t approach me, I tell you! -I’d 1 First shot he hit a box of t’backer back hit a blind woman as quick as I would a of Wood’s counter. I don’t know what he one-armed man!” hit the second time, but it wasn’t'me.” * Copyright, 1919, by G. IV. Ogden. All rights reserved. This story began in The Argosy for May 3. THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE. 293

“ He hit the side of the store.” to tickle, but she’ll never tickle mine no Taterleg rode along in silence a little more. And all the time she was talkin’ to way. “ Well, that was purty good for me like that, where do you reckon that Jed¬ him,” he said. lick feller was at?” “ Who was that hopped a horse like he “ In the saloon, I guess, firin’ up.” was goin’ for the doctor, and tore off?” “ No, he wasn’t, duke. He was settin’ “ Jedlick, dern him!” right in that Ao-tel, with his old flat feet Lambert allowed the matter to rest at under the table, shovelin’ in pie. He come that, knowing that neither of them had out pickin’ his teeth purty soon, standin’ been hurt. Taterleg would come to the there by the door, dern him, like he owned telling of it before long, not being built so Jhe dump. Well, he may, for all I know. that he could hold a piece of news like that Alta, she inched away from me, and she without suffering great discomfort. says to him: ‘ Mr. Jedlick, come over here “ I’m through with that bunch down and shake hands with Mr. Wilson.’ there,” he said in the tone of deep, disgust¬ “ ‘ Yes,’ he says, ‘ I’ll shake insect pow¬ ful renunciation. “ I never was led on and der on his grave!’ soaked that way before in my life. No, I “ 11 see you doin’ it,’ I says, ‘ you long- ain’t hurt, duke, but it ain’t no fault of that hungry and half-full! If you ever make a girl I ain’t. She done all she could to kill pass at me you’ll swaller wind so fast you’ll me off.” bust.’ Well, he begun to shuffle and prance “ Who started it?” and cut up like a boy makin’ faces, and “ Well, I’ll give it to vou-straight, duke, there’s where Alta she ducked in through from the first word, and you can judge for the parlor winder. ‘ Don’t hurt him, Mr. yourself what kind of a woman that girl’s Jedlick,’ she says; ‘ please don’t hurt him! ’ goin’ to turn out to be. I never would ’a’ “ ‘ I’ll chaw him up as fine as cat hair and believed she’d ’a’ throwed a man that way, blow him out through my teeth,’ Jedlick but you can’t read ’em, duke; no man can told her. And there’s where I started after read ’em.” that feller. He v/as standin’ in front of “ I guess that’s right,” Lambert allowed, the door all the time, where he could duck wondering how far he had read in certain inside if he saw me cornin’, and I guess he dark eyes which seemed as innocent as a would ’a’ ducked if Wood hadn’t ’a’ been child’s. there. When he saw Wood, old Jedlick “ It’s past the power of any man to do pulled his gun. it. Well, you know, I went over there with “ I slung down on him time enough to my fresh box of gum, all of the fruit flavors blow him in two, and pulled on my trigger, you can name, and me and her we set out not aimin’ to hurt the old sooner, only to on the porch gabbin’ and samplin’ that snap a bullet between his toes, but she gum. She never was so leanin’ and lovin’ wouldn’t work. Old Jedlick, he was so rat¬ before, settin’ up so dost to me you couldn’t tled at the sight of that gun in my hand he ’a’ put a sheet of writin’ paper between us. banged loose, slap through the winder into Shucks!” that box of plug back of the counter.. I “ Rubbin’ the paint off, Taterleg. You pulled on her and pulled on her, but she ought ’a’ took the tip that she was about wouldn’t snap, and I was yankin’ at the done with you.” - hammer to cock her when he tore loose with “ You’re right; I would ’a’ if I’d ’a’ had that second shot. That’s when I found out as much brains as a ant. Well, she told me what was the matter with my gun.” Jedlick was layin’ for me, and begged me Taterleg waa so moved at this passage not to hurt him, for she didn’t want to see that he seemed to run out of words. He me go to jail on account of a feller like him. rode along in silence until they reached the She talke'd to me like a Dutch uncle, and top of the hill, and the house on the mesa put her head so dost I could feel them stood before them, dark and lonesome. bangs a ticklin’ my ear. But that’s done Then he pulled out his gun and handed it with; she can tickle all the ears she wants across to the duke. 294 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ Run your thumb over the hammer of “ It looks like it’s all off- between you that gun, duke,” he said. and Alta now.” “Well! What in the world — it feels “ Broke off, short up to the handle. like chewin’ gum, Taterleg.” Serves a feller right for bein’ a fool. I “ It is chewin’ gum, duke. A wad of it might ’a’ knowed when she wanted me to as big as my fist gluin’ down the hammer shave my mustache off she didn’t have no of that gun. That girl put it on there, more heart in her than a fish.” duke. She knew Jedlick wouldn’t have no “ That was askin’ a lot of a man, sure more show before me, man to man, than a as the world.” rabbit. She done me that trick, duke; she “ No man can look .two ways- at once wanted to kill me off.” without somebody puttin’ something down “ There wasn’t no joke about that, old his back, duke.” feller,” the duke said seriously, grateful “ Referrin’ to the lady in Wyoming. that the girl’s trick had not resulted in any Sure.” greater damage to his friend than the shock “ She was white. She says: ‘ Mr. Wil¬ to his dignity and simple heart. son, I’ll always think of you as a gentle¬ “ Yes, and it was my own gum. That’s man.’ Them was her last words, duke.” the worst part of it, duke; she wasn’t even They were walking their horses past the usin’ his gum, dang her melts! ” house, which was dark, careful not to wake “ She must have favored Jedlick pretty Vesta. But their care went for nothing; strong to go that far.” she was not in bed. Around the turn of “ Well, if she wants him after what she’s the long porch they saw her standing in saw of him, she can take him. I clinched the moonlight, looking across the river into him before he could waste any more ammu¬ the lonely night. It seemed as if she stood nition, and twisted his gun away from him. in communion with distant places, to which I jolted him a couple of jolts with my fist, she sent her longing out of a bondage that and he broke and run. You seen him hop she could not flee. his horse.” “ She looks lonesome,” Taterleg said. “ What did you do with his gun?” “ Well, I ain’t a goin’ to go and pet and “ I walked over to the winder where that console her. I’m done takin’ chances.” girl was lookin’ out to see Jedlick wipe up Lambert understood as never before how the porch with me, and I handed her the melancholy that life' must be for her. She gun, and I says: ‘ Give this to Mr. Jedlick turned as they passed, her face clear in the with my regards,’ I says, ‘ and tell him if bright moonlight. Taterleg swept off his he wants any more to send me word.’ Well, hat with the grand air that took him so far she come out, and I called her on what she with the ladies, Lambert saluting with less done to my gun. She swore she didn’t extravagance. mean it for nothing but a joke. I said if Vesta waved her hand in acknowledg¬ that was her idear of a joke, the quicker ment, turning again to her watching over we parted the sooner. She begun to bawl, the vast, empty land, as if she waited the and the old man and old woman put in, and coming of somebody who would quicken I’d ’a’ slapped that feller, duke, if he’d ’a’ her life with the cheer that it wanted so had two arms on him. But you can’t slap sadly that calm summer night. a half of a man.” Lambert felt an unusual restlessness that “ I guess that’s right.” night—no mood over him for his bed. It “ I walked up to that girl, and I said: seemed, in truth, that a man would be ‘ You’ve chawed the last wad of my gum wasting valuable hours of life by locking you’ll ever plaster up ag’in’ your old lean his senses up in sleep. He put his horse jawbone. You may be some figger in Glen¬ away, sated with the comedy of Taterleg’s dora,’ I says, ‘ but anywheres else you adventure, and not caring to pursue it far¬ wouldn’t cut no more ice than a cracker.’ ther. To get away from the discussion of Wood, he took it up agin. That’s when I it that he knew Taterleg would keep going coma away.” as long as there was an ear open to hear THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE. 295

him, he walked to the near-by hilltop to the slope, following the disturbance of a view the land under this translating spell. quick foot. Vesta was coming. Unseen This was the hilltop from which he had and unheard through the insulation of his ridden down to interfere between Vesta and thoughts, she had approached within ten Nick Hargus. With that adventure he had rods of him before he saw her, the moon¬ opened his account of trouble in the Bad light on her fair face, glorious in her un¬ Lands, an account that was growing day covered hair. by day, the final balancing of which he could not foresee. CHAPTER XX. From where he stood, the house was dark and lonely as an abandoned habitation. It BUSINESS, AND MORE. seemed, indeed, that bright and full of youthful light as Vesta Philbrook was, she stand out like an Indian water was only one warm candle in the gloom of monument up here,” she said reprov¬ this great and melancholy monument of ingly, as she came scrambling up, taking her father’s misspent hopes. Before she the hand that he hastened forward to offer could warm it into life and cheerfulness, and boost her over the crumbling shale. it would encroach upon her with its chilling “ I expect Hargus could pick me off from gloom, like an insidious cold drift of sand, below there anywhere, but I didn’t think smothering her beauty, burying her quick of that,” he said. heart away from the world for which it “ It wouldn’t be above him,” seriously, longed, for evermore. discounting the light way in which he spoke It would need the noise of little feet of it; “ he’s done things just as cowardly, across those broad, empty, lonesome and so have others you’ve met.” porches to wake the old house; the shout¬ “ I haven’t got much opinion of the valor ing and laughter and gleam of merry eyes of men who hunt in packs, Vesta. Some of that childhood brings into this world’s them might be skulking around, glad to gloom, to drive away the shadows that take a shot at us. Don’t you 'think we’d draped it like a mist. Perhaps Vesta stood better go down?” •there to-night sending her soul out in a “ We can sit over there and be off the call to some one for whom she longed, these sky-line. It’s always the safe thing to do hopes in her own good heart. around here.” He sighed, wishing her well of such hope She indicated a point where an inequal¬ if she had it, and forgot her in a moment ity in the hill would be above their heads as his eyes picked up a light far across the sitting, and there they composed themselves hills. Now it twinkled brightly, now it wa¬ —the modtilit world before them, the shel¬ vered and died, as if its beam was all too tering swell of grassy hilltop at their backs. weak to hold to the continued effort of pro¬ “ It’s not a very complimentary reflec¬ jecting itself so far. That must be the Kerr tion on a civilized community that one has ranch; no other habitation lay in that di¬ to take such a precaution, but it’s neces¬ rection. Perhaps in the light of that lamp sary, duke.” somebody was sitting, bending a dark head “ It’s enough to make you want to leave in pensive tenderness with a thought of him. it, Vesta. It’s bad enough to have to dodge He stood with his pleasant fancy, his danger in a city, but out here, with all this dream around him like a cloak. All the lonesomeness around you, it’s worse.” trouble that was in the world for him that “ Do you feel it lonesome here?” She hour was near the earth, like the precipi¬ asked it with a curious soft slowness, a tation of settling waters. Over it he gazed, speculative detachment, as if she only half superior to its ugly murk, careless of thought of what she said. whether it might rise to befoul the clear ‘‘ I’m never lonesome where I can see the current of his hopes, or sink and settle to sun rise and set. There’s a lot of company obscure his dreams no more. in cattle, more than in any amount of peo¬ There was a sound of falling shale on ple you don’t know.” 296 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ I find it the same way, duke. I never “ Thank you, duke.” was so lonesome as when I was away from Lambert sat turning over in his mind here at school.” something that he wanted to say to her, “ Everybody feels that way about home, but which he could not yet shape to his I guess. But I thought maybe you’d like it tongue. She was looking in the direction better away among people like yourself.” of the light that he had been watching, a “No. If it wasn’t for this endless watch¬ gleam of which showed faintly now and ing, I wouldn’t change this for any place in then, as if between moving boughs. the world. On nights like this, when it whis¬ “ I don’t like the notion of your leaving pers in a thousand inaudible voices, and this country whipped, Vesta,” he said, com¬ beckons and holds one close, I feel that I ing to it at last. never can go away. There’s a call in it “ I don’t like to leave it whipped, duke.” that is so subtle and tender, so full of sym¬ “ But that’s the way they’ll look at it if pathy, that I answer it with tears.” you go.” “ I wish things could be cleared up so Silence again, both watching the far-dis¬ you could live here in peace and enjoy it, tant, twinkling light. but I don’t know how it’s going to come “ I laid out the job for myself of bring¬ out. It looks to me like I’ve made it ing these outlaws around here up to your worse.” fence with their hats in their hands, and I “ It was wrong of me to draw you into hate to give it up before I’ve made go»d it, duke; I should have let you go your on my word.” way.” “ Let it go, duke; it isn’t worth the “ There’s no regrets on my side, Vesta. fight.” • I guess it was planned for me to come this “ A man’s word is either good for all he far and stop.” intends it to be, or worth no more than the “ They’ll never rest till they’ve drawn lowest scoundrel’s, Vesta. If I don’t put you into a quarrel that will give them an up works to equal what I’ve promised, I’ll excuse for killing you, duke. They’re have to sneak out of this country between doubly sure to do it since you got away two suns.” from them that night. I shouldn’t have “ I threw off too much on the shoulders stopped you; I should have let you go on of a willing and gallant stranger,” she that day.” sighed. “ Let it go, duke; I’ve made up “ I had to stop somewhere, Vesta,” he my mind to sell out and leave.” laughed. “ Anyway, I’ve found here what He made no immediate return to this I started out to find. This was the end of declaration, but after a while he said: my road.” “ This will be a mighty bleak spot with “ What you started to find, duke?” the house abandoned and dark on winter “ A man-sized job, I guess.” He laughed nights and no stock around the barns.” again, but with a colorless artificiality, “ Yes, duke.” sweating over the habit of solitude that “ There’s no place so lonesome as one leads a man into thinking aloud. where somebody’s lived, and put his hopes “ You’ve found it, all right, duke, and and ambitions into it, and gone away and you’re filling it. That’s some satisfaction left it empty. I can hear the winter wind to you, I know. But it’s a man-using job, cuttin’ around the house down yonder, a life-wasting job,” she said sadly. mournin’ like a widow woman in the night.” “ I’ve only got myself to blame for any¬ A sob broke from her, a sudde'n, sharp, thing that’s happened to me here, Vesta. struggling expression of her sorrow for the It’s not the fault of the job.” desolation that he pictured in his simple “ Well, if you’ll stay with me till I sell words. She bent her head into her hands the cattle, duke, I’ll think of you as the and cried. Lambert was sorry for the pain next best friend I ever had.” that he had unwittingly stirred in her “ I’ve got no intention of leaving you, breast, but glad in a glowing tenderness to Vesta.” see that she had this human strain so near THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE. 297

the surface that it could be touched by a better right now than it’s been in many sentiment so common, and yet so precious, years.” as the love of home. He laid his hand on “ Well, what sort of a proposal were you her head, stroking her soft, wavy hair. going to make, duke?” “ Never mind, Vesta,” he petted, as if “ Sheep.” comforting a child. “ Maybe we can fix “ Father used to consider turning around things up here so there’ll be somebody to to sheep. The country would come to it, take care of it. Never mind—don’t you he said.” grieve and cry.” “ Coming to it more and more every day. “ It’s home—the only home I ever knew. The sheep business is the big future thing There’s no place in the world that can be in here. Inside of five years everybody to me what it has been, and is.” will be in the sheep business, and that will “ That’s so, that’s so. I remember, I mean , the end of these rustler camps that know. The wind don’t blow as soft, the go under the name of cattle ranches.” sun don’t shine as bright, anywhere else ■“ Fm willing to consider sheep, duke. Go as it does at home. It’s been a good while ahead with the plan.” since I had one, and it wasn’t much to see, “ There’s twice the money in them, and but I’ve got the recollection of it by me al¬ not half the expense. One man can take ways—I can see every log in the walls.” care of two or three thousand, and you can He felt her shiver with the sobs she get sheep-herders any day. There can’t be struggled to repress as his hand rested on any possible objection to them inside your her hair. His heart went out to her in a own fence, and you’ve got range for ten or surge of tenderness when he thought of all fifteen thousand. I’d suggest about a thou¬ she had staked in that land—her youth and sand to begin with, though.” the promise of life—of all she had seen “ I’d do it in a minute, duke—I’ll do it planned in hope, built in expectation, and whenever you say the word. Then I could all that lay buried now on the bleak mesa leave Ananias and Myrtle here, and I could marked by two white stones. come back for a little while, maybe.” And he caressed her with gentle hand, She spoke with such eagerness, such ap¬ looking away the while at the spark of peal' of loneliness, that he knew it would light that came and went, came and went, break her heart ever to go at all. So there as if through blowing leaves. So it flashed on the hilltop they planned and agreed on and fell, flashed and fell, like a slow, slow the change from cattle to sheep, Lambert pulse, and died out, as a spark in tinder to have half the increase, according to the dies, leaving the far night blank. custom, with herder’s wages for two years. Vesta sat up, pushed her hair back from She would have been more generous in the her forehead, her white hand lingering matter of pay, but that was the basis upon there. He touched it, pressed, it comfort¬ which he had made his plans, and he would ingly. admit no change. “ But I’ll have to go,” she said, calm in Vesta was as enthusiastic over it as a voice, “ to end this trouble and strife.” child, all eagerness to begin, seeing in the I’ve been wondering, since I’m kind of change a promise of the peace for which pledged to clean things up here, whether she had so ardently longed. She appeared you’d consider a business proposal from me to have come suddenly from under a cloud in regard to taking charge of the ranch for of oppression and to sparkle in the sun of you while you’re gone, Vesta.” this new hope. It was only when they She looked up with a quick start of came to parting at the porch that the ghost eagerness. of her old trouble came to take its place at “You mean I oughtn’t sell the cattle, her side again. duke?” “ Has she cut the fence lately over there, “ Yes, I think you ought to clean them duke?” she asked. out. The bulk of them are in as high con¬ “ Not since I caught her at it. I don’t dition as they’ll ever be, and the market’s think she’ll do it again.” 298 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ Did she promise you she wouldn’t cut “ And a few notes hung on the fence!” it, duke?” she said, not able to hide her scorn. “ She’s She did not look at him as she spoke, but gone away laughing at you every time.” stood with her face averted, as if she would “ I thought maybe peace and quiet could avoid prying into his secret too directly. be established through her if she could be Her voice was low, a note of weary sadness made to see things in a civilized way.” in .it that seemed a confession of the use¬ Vesta made no rejoinder at once. She lessness of turning her back upon the strife put her foot on the step as if to leave him, that she would forget. withdrew it, faced him gravely. “ No, she didn’t promise.” It’s nothing to me, duke, only I don’t “ If she doesn’t cut the fence she’ll plan want to see her lead you into another fire. to hurt me in some other way. It isn’t in Keep your eyes open and your hand close her to be honest; she couldn’t be honest if to your gun when you’re visiting with her.” she tried.” She left him with that advice, given so “ I don’t like to condemn anybody with¬ gravely and honestly that it amounted to out a trial, Vesta. Maybe she’s changed.” more than a warning.. He felt that there “ You can’t change a rattlesnake. You was something more for him to say to make seem to forget that she’s a Kerr.” his position clear, but could not marshal “ Even at that, she might be different his words. Vesta entered the house with¬ from the rest.” out looking back to where he stood, hat in “ She never has been. You’ve had a hand,'the moonlight in his fair hair. taste of the Kerr methods, but you’re not satisfied yet that they’re absolutely base and dishonorable in every thought and CHAPTER XXI. deed. You’ll find it out to your cost, duke, A TEST OF LOYALTY. if you let that girl lead you. She’s a will- o’-the-wisp sent to lure you from the 1 AMBERT rode to his rendezvous with trail.” ^ Grace Kerr on the appointed day, be¬ Lambert laughed a bit foolishly, as a lieving that she would keep it, although man does when the intuition of a woman her promise had been inconclusive. She uncovers the thing that he prided himself had only “ expected ” she would be there, was so skilfully concealed that mortal eyes but he more than expected she would come. could not find it. Vesta was reading He was in a pleasant mood that morning, through him like a piece of greased parch¬ sentimentally softened to such extent that ment before a lamp. he believed he might even call accounts off “ I guess it will all come out right,” he with Sim Hargus and the rest of them if said weakly. Grace could arrange a peace. Vesta was a “ You’ll meet Kerr one of these days little rough on her, he believed. Grace with your old score between you, and he’ll was showing a spirit that seemed to prove kill you or you’ll kill him. She knows it she wanted only gentle guiding to abandon as well as I do. Do you suppose she can the practises of violence to which she had be sincere with you and keep this thing been bred. covered up in her heart? You seem to have . Certainly, compared to Vesta, she seemed forgotten what she and all of them remem¬ of coarser ware, even though she was as bers and plots on every minute of her life.” handsome as heart could desire. This he “ I don’t think die knows anything admitted without prejudice, not being yet about what happened to me that night, wholly blind. But there was no bond of Vesta.” romance between Vesta and him. There “ She knows all about it,” said Vesta ( was no place for romance between a man coldly. and his boss. Romance bound him to Grace “ I don’t know her very well, of course; Kerr; sentiment enchained him. It was a I’ve only passed a few words with her,” sweet enslavement, and one to be prolonged he excused. in his desire. THE DUKE t)F CHIMNEY BUTTE. 299

Grace was not in sight when he reached This thought passed away and troubled their meeting-place. He let down the wire him no more as they sat talking of the and rode to meet her, troubled as before strange way of their “ meeting on the run,” by that feeling of disloyalty to the Phil- as she said. brook interests which caused him to stop “ There isn’t a horse in a thousand that more than once and debate whether he could have caught up with me that day.” should turn back and wait inside the fence. “ Not one in thousands,” he amended, The desire to hasten the meeting with with due gratitude to Whetstone. Grace was stronger than this question of his “ I expected you’d be riding him to-day, loyalty. He went on, over the hill from duke.” which she used to spy on his passing, into “ He backed into a fire,” said he un¬ the valley where he had interfered between easily, “ and burned off most of his tail. the two girls on the day that he found He’s no sight for a lady in his present Grace hidden away in this unexpected shape.” place. There he met her coming down the She laughed, looking at him shrewdly, as farther slope. if she believed it to be a joke to cover Grace was quite a different figure that something that he didn’t want her to know. day from any she had presented before, “ But you promised to give him to me, wearing a perky little highland bonnet with duke, when he rested up a little.” an eagle feather in it, and a skirt and “ I will,” he declared earnestly, getting blouse of the same plaid. His eyes an¬ hold of her hand where it lay in the grass nounced his approval as they met, leaning between them. “ I’ll give you anything to shake hands from the saddle. I’ve got, Grace, from the breath in my body Immediately he brought himself to task to the blood in my heart!” for his late admission that she was inferior She bent her head, her face rosy with her in the eyes to Vesta. That misappraise- mounting blood. ment was due to the disadvantage under “ Would you, duke?” said she, so softly which he had seen Grace heretofore. This that it was not much more than the flutter morning she was as dainty as a fresh-blown of the wings of words. pink, and as delicately sweet. He swung He leaned a little nearer, his heart climb-' from the saddle and stood off admiring her ing, as if it meant to smother him and cut with so much speaking from his eyes that him short in that crowning moment of his she grew rosy in their fire. dream. “ Will you get down, Grace? I’ve never “ I’d have gone to the end of the world had a chance to see how tall you are.” to find you, Grace,” he said, his voice shak¬ The eagle feather came even with his ear ing as if he had a chill, his hands cold, his when she stood beside him, slender and face hot, a tingling in his body, a sound in strong, health in her eyes, her womanhood his ears like bells. “ I want to tell you ripening in her lips. Not as tall as Vesta, how—” not as full of figure, he began in mental “ Wait, duke—I want to hear it all—but measurement, burning with self-reproof wait a minute. There’s something I want when he caught himself at it. Why should to ask you to do for me. Will you do me a he always be drawing comparisons between favor, duke, a simple favor, but one that her and Vesta, to her disadvantage in all means the world and all to me?” things? It was unwarranted, it was absurd! “ Try me,” said he, with boundless con¬ They sat on the hillside, their horses nip¬ fidence. ping each other in introductory prelim¬ “ It’s more than giving me your horse, inaries, then settling down to immediate duke; a whole lot more than that, but it ’ll friendship. They were far beyond sight of not hurt you—you can do it, if you will.” the fence. Lambert hoped, with an uneasy “ I know you wouldn’t ask me to do any¬ return of that feeling of disloyalty and thing that would reflect on my honesty or guilt, that Vesta would not come riding up honor,”' he said, beginning to do a little that way and find the open strands of wire. thinking as his nervous chill passed. 300 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ A man doesn’t—when a man cares—” “ I don’t like to refuse you even that, She stopped, looking $way, a little constric¬ Grace.” tion in her throat. “ You’ll do it, you’ll do it, duke?” Her “ What is it, Grace?” pressing her hand hand was on his arm in beguiling caress, her encouragingly, master of the situation now, eyes were pleading into his. as he believed. “ I’m afraid not, Grace.” “■Duke”—she turned to him suddenly, Perhaps she felt a shading of coldness in her eyes wide and luminous, her heart going his denial, for distrust and suspicion were so he could see the tremor of its vibrations rising in his cautious mind. It did not seem in the lace at her throat—“ I want you to to him a thing that could be asked with any lend me to-morrow morning, for one day, honest purpose, but for what dishonest one just one day, duke—five hundred head of he had no conjecture to fit. Vesta Philbrook’s cattle.” “ Are you going to turn me down on the “ That’s a funny thing to ask, Grace,” first request I ever made of you, duke?” said he uneasily. She watched him keenly as she spoke, mak¬ “ I want you to meet me over there ing her eyes small, an inflection of sorrow¬ where I cut the fence before sun-up in the ful injury in her tone. morning, and have everybody out of the “ If there’s anything of my own you way, so we can cut them out and drive want, if there’s anything you can name for them over here. You can manage it, if you me to do, personally, all you’ve got to do want to, duke. You will, if you—if you is hint at it once.” care.” “ It’s easy to say that when there’s noth¬ “ If they were my cattle, Grace, I ing else I want!” she said, snapping it at wouldn’t hesitate a second.” him as sharp as the crack of a little whip. “ You’ll do it, anyhow, won’t you, duke, “ If there was anything—” for me?” “ There’ll never be anything!” “ What in the world do you want them She got up, flashing him an indignant for, just for one day?” look. He stood beside her, despising the “ I can’t explain that to you now, duke, poverty of his condition which would not but I pledge you my honor, I pledge you allow him to deliver over to her, out of everything, that they’ll be returned to you hand, the small matter of five hundred before night, not a head missing, nothing beeves. wrong.” She went to her horse, mightily put out “ Does your father know—does he—” and impatient with him, as he could see, “ It’s for myself that I’m asking this of threw the reins over her pommel, as if she you, duke; nobody else. It means — it intended to leave him at, once. She delayed means—everything to me.” mounting, suddenly putting out her hands “ If they were my cattle, Grace, if they in supplication, tears springing in her eyes. were my cattle,” said he aimlessly, amazed “ Oh, duke! If you knew how much it by the request, .groping for the answer that means to me,” she said. lay behind it. What could a girl want to “ Why don’t you tell me, Grace?” borrow five hundred head of cattle for? “ Even if you stayed back there on the What in the world would she get out of hills somewhere and watched them you holding them in her possession one day and wouldn’t do it, duke?” she appealed, evad¬ then turning them back into the pasture? ing his request. There was something back of it; she was He shook his head slowly, while the the innocent emissary of a crafty hand that thoughts within it ran like wildfire, seeking had a trick to play. the thing that she covered. “ We could run them over here, just you “ It can’t be done.” and I, and nobody would know anything “ I give you my word, duke, that if about it,” she tempted, the color , back in you’ll do it nobody will ever lift a hand her cheeks, her eyes bright as in the pleas¬ against this ranch again.” ure of a request already granted. “ It’s almost worth it,” said he. THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE. 301

She quickened at this, enlarging her She came close to him, put her arm about guarantee. his neck, drew his head down as if to whis¬ “ We’ll drop all of the old feud and let per her confidence in his ear. Her breath Vesta alone. I give you my word for all was on his cheek, his heart was afire in one of them, and I’ll see that they carry it out. foolish leap. She put up her lips as if to You can do Vesta as big a favor as you’ll kiss him, and he, reeling in the ecstasy of be doing me, duke.” his proximity to her radiant body, bent “ It couldn’t be done without her con¬ nearer to take what she seemed to offer. sent, Grace. If you want to go to her with She drew back, her hand interposed be¬ this same proposal, putting it plainly like fore his eager lips, shaking her head, deny¬ you have to me, I think she’ll let you have ing him prettily. the cattle,' if you can show her any good “ In the morning, I’ll tell you all in the reason for it.” morning when I meet you to drive the cattle “ Just as if I’d be fool enough to ask over,” she said. “ Don’t say a word—I’ll her!” she scorned. not take no for my answer.” She turned “ That’s the only way.” quickly to her horse and swung lightly into “ Duke,” said she coaxingly, “ wouldn’t the saddle. From this perch she leaned it be worth something to you, personally, toward him, her hand on his shoulder, her to have your troubles settled without a lips drawing him in their fiery lure again, fight? I’ll promise you nobody will ever “ In the morning — in the morning — you lift a hand against you again if you’ll do can kiss me, duke! ” this for me.” With that word, that promise, she turned He started, looked at her sternly, ap¬ and galloped away. proaching her a step. It was late afternoon, and Lambert “ What do you know about anything had faced back toward the ranch-house, that’s happened to me?” he demanded. troubled by all that he could not under¬ “ I don’t know anything about what’s stand in that morning’s meeting, thrilled happened, but I know what’s due to hap¬ and fired by all that was sweet to remember, pen if it isn’t headed off.” when he met a man who came riding in the Lambert did some hard thinking for a haste of one who had business ahead of little while, so hard that it wrenched him him that could not wait. He was riding to the marrow. If he had had suspicion one of Vesta Philbrook’s horses, a circum¬ of her entire innocence in the solicitation of stance that sharpened Lambert’s interest in this unusual favor before, it had sprung in him at once. a moment into distrust. Such a quick re¬ As they closed the distance between version cannot take place in the sentiment them, Lambert keeping his hand in the easy without a shock. It seemed to Lambert neighborhood of his gun, the man raised his that something valuable had been snatched hand, palm forward, in the Indian sign of away from him, and that he stood in be¬ peace. Lambert saw that he wore a shoul¬ wilderment, unable to reach out and re¬ der holster which supported two heavy re¬ trieve his loss. volvers. He was a solemn-looking man with “ Then there’s no use in discussing it any a narrow face, a mustache that crowded more,” he said, groping back, trying to Taterleg’s for the championship, a buck¬ answer her. skin vest with pearl buttons. His coat was “ You’d do it for her!” tied on the saddle at his back. “ Not for her any quicker than for you.” “ I didn’t steal this horse,” he explained “ I know it looks crooked to you, duke— with a sorrowful grin. “ I requisitioned I don’t blame you for your suspicions,” she it. I’m the sheriff.” said with a frankness that seemed more like “ Yes, sir?” said Lambert, not quite tak¬ herself, he thought. She even seemed to be ing him for granted, no intention of letting coming back to him in that approach. It him pass on with that explanation. made him glad. “ Miss Philbrook said I’d run across you “ Tell me all about it, Grace,” he urged. up this way.” 302 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

The officer produced his badge, his com¬ that banker started laid him bare. He mission, his card, his letter-head, his cre¬ promised Kerr to come up to-morrow and dentials of undoubted strength. On the look over his security, and passed the word proof thus supplied, Lambert shook hands on to the county attorney. Kerr said he’d with hint. just bought five hundred head of stock. He “ I guess everybody else in the county wanted to raise the loan on them.” knows me—this is my second term, and I “ Five hundred,” said Lambert, mechan¬ never was taken for a horse-thief before,” ically repeating the sheriff’s words, doing the sheriff said, solemn as a crow, as he put some calculating of his own. his papers away.- “ He ain’t got any that ain’t blanketed “I’m a stranger in this country, I don’t with mortgage paper so thick already know anybody, nobody knows me, so you’ll they’d go through a ■ blizzard and never not take it as a slight that I didn’t recog¬ know it. His scheme was to raise five or nize you, Mr. Sheriff.” six thousand dollars more on that outfit and “ No harm done, duke, no harm done. skip the country.” Well, I guess you’re a. little wider known And Grace Kerr had relied on his in¬ than you make out. I didn’t bring a man fatuation for her to work on him for the along with me because I knew you were up loan of the necessary cattle. Lambert could here at Philbrook’s. Hold up your hand not believe that it was all her scheme, but and be sworn.” it seemed incredible that a man as shrewdly “ What’s the occasion?” Lambert in¬ dishonest as Kerr would entertain a plan quired, making no move to comply with the that promised so little outlook of success. order. They must have believed over at Kerr’s “ I’ve got a warrant for this man Kerr that they had him pretty well on the line. over south of here, and I want you to go But Kerr had figured too surely on hav¬ with me. Kerr’s a bad egg, in a nest of bad ing his neighbor’s cattle to show fee banker eggs. There’slikely to be too much trouble to stake all on fee chance of Grace being for one man. You do solemnly swear to able to wheedle him into the scheme. If he support the constitution'—” couldn’t get them by seduction, he meant “Wait a minute, Mr. Sheriff,” Lambert to take them in a raid. Grace never in¬ demurred; “ I don’t know that I want to tended to come to meet him in the morning mis up in—” alone. ■> “ It’s not for you to say what you want One crime more would amount to little to do—that’s my business,” the sheriff said in addition to what Kerr had done already, sharply. He forthwith deputized Lambert, and it would be a trick on which he would and gave him a duplicate of the warrant. pride himself and laugh over all the rest of “You don’t need it, but it ’ll clear your his life. mind of all doubt of your power,” he ex¬ It seemed certain now that Grace’s plained. “ Can we git through this fence?” friendliness all along had been laid on a “ Up here six or seven miles, about op¬ false pretense, with the one intention of be¬ posite Kerr’s place. But I’d like to go on guiling him to his disgrace, his destruction, to the house and change horses; I’ve rode if disgrace could not be accomplished with¬ this one over forty miles to-day already.^ out it. The sheriff agreed.. “ Where’s that out- As he rode Whetstone — not quite re¬ la\v you won from Jim Wilder?” he in¬ covered from his scorching, save for the quired, turning his eyes on Lambert in hair of his once fine tail—beside fee sheriff, friendly appreciation. Lambert had some uneasy cogitations on “ I’ll ride him,” Lambert returned his sentimental blindness of the past; on briefly. “ What’s Kerr been up to?” the good, honest advice that Vesta Phil- “ Mortgaged a bunch of cattle he’s got brook had given him. Blood was blood, over there to three different banks. He after all. If the source of it was base, it was down a couple of days ago tryin’ to put Was too much to hope that a little removal,, through another loan. The investigation a little dilution, would ennoble it. THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE. 303

“ And yet,” thought he, thumb in the him with a jolt. They were within half a pocket of his hairy vest where the little mile of the house, approaching it from the handkerchief lay, “ and yet—” front. He saw that it was built in the shape of an L, the base of the letter to the left of them, shutting off a view of the CHAPTER XXII. angle. “ He may see us in time to duck,” the THE WILL-O’-THE-WISP. sheriff said, “ and you can bank on it, he’s 'T'HE Kerr ranch buildings were more got a horse saddled around there at the back A than a mile away from the point where door. If he comes your way, don’t fool Lambert and the sheriff halted to look down with him; let him have it where he lives.” on them. The ranch-house was a structure They had not closed up half the dis¬ of logs from which the bark had been tance between them and the house when stripped, and which had weathered white as two horsemen rode suddenly round the cor¬ bones. It was long and low, suggesting ner of the L and through the wide gate in spaciousness and comfort, and enclosed the picket fence. Outside the fence they about by a white picket fence. separated with the suddenness of a precon¬ A winding trace of trees and brushwood certed plan, darting away in opposite di¬ marked the course of the stream that ran rections. Each wore a white hat, and from "behind it. On the brink of this little water, that distance they appeared as much alike where it flashed free of the tangled willows, in size and bearing as a man and his there was a corral and stables, but no sign reflection. of either animal or human life about the The sheriff swore a surprised oath at place. sight of them, and their cunning plan to “ He may be out with the cattle,” Lam¬ confuse and divide the pursuing force. bert suggested. “ Which one of ’em’s Kerr?” he shouted “ We’ll wait for him to come back, if he as he leaned in his saddle, urging his horse is. He’s sure to be home between now and on for all that it could do. to-morrow.” “ I don’t know,” Lambert returned. So that was her home, that was the roof “ I’ll chance this one,” said the sheriff, that had sheltered her while she grew in pointing. “ Take the other feller.” her loveliness. The soft call of his romance Lambert knew that one of them was came whispering to him again. Surely there Grace Kerr. That he could not tell which, was no attainder of blood to rise up against he upbraided himself, not willing that she her and make her unclean; he would have should be subjected to the indignity of pur¬ sworn that moment, if put to the test, that suit. It was a clever trick, but the prepara¬ she was innocent of any knowing attempt tion for it and the readiness with which it to involve him to his disgrace. The gate was put into play seemed to reflect a doubt of the world stood open to them^to go away of her entire innocence in her father’s dis¬ from that harsh land and forget all that honest transactions. Still, it was no more had gone before, as the gate of his heart than natural that she should bend every was open for all the love that it contained faculty to the assistance of her father in to rush out and embrace her, and purge her escaping the penalty of his crimes. He of the unfortunate accident of her birth. would do it himself under like conditions; After this, poor child, she would need a the unnatural would be the other course. friend, as never before, with only her step¬ These things he thought as he rode into mother, as she had told him, in the world the setting sun in pursuit of the fugitive to befriend her. A man’s hand, a man’s designated by the sheriff. Whetstone was heart— g fresh and eager after his long rest, in spite “ I’ll take the front door,” said the of the twelve or fifteen miles which he had sheriff. “ You watch the back.” covered already between the two ranches. Lambert came out of his softening dream, Lambert held him in, doubtful whether he down to the hard facts in the case before would be able to overtake the fleeing rider ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. before dark with the advantage of distance again. There was no thought in him of and a fresh horse that he or she had. Whetstone now—only of Grace. If Kerr rode ahead of him, then he must He must overtake her in the quickest be overtaken before night gave him sanc¬ possible time, and convince her of his tuary; if Grace, it was only necessary to friendly sympathy; he must console and come close enough to her to make sure, comfort her in this hour of her need. Brave then let her go her way untroubled. He little thing, to draw him off that way, to held the distance pretty well between them keep on running into the very edge of night, till sundown, when he felt the time had that wild country ahead of her, for fear he come to close in and settle the doubt. would come close enough to recognize her Whetstone was still mainly in reserve, tire¬ and turn back to help the sheriff on the true less, deep-winded creature that he was. trail. That’s what was in her mind; she Lambert leaned over his neck, caressed thought he hadn’t recognized her, and was him, spoke into the ear that tipped watch¬ still fleeing to draw him as far away as fully back. They were in fairly smooth possible by dark. country, stretches of thin grass-lands and When he co'qld come within shouting dis¬ broken barrens, but beyond them, a few tance of her, he could make his intention miles, the hills rose, treeless and dun, of-, plain. To that end he pushed on. Her fering refuge for the one who fled. Pursuit horse had shown a fresh impulse of speed, there would be difficult by day, impossible carrying her a little farther ahead. They by night. were drawing close to the hills now, with a Whetstone quickened at his master’s en¬ growth of harsh and thorny brushwood in couragement, pushing the race hasd for the the low places along the runlets of dry one who led, cutting down the distance so streams. rapidly that it seemed the other must be Poor little bird, fleeing from him, luring purposely delaying. Half an hour more of him on like a trembling quail that flutters daylight and it would be over. before one’s feet in the wheat to draw him The rider in the lead had driven his or away from het nest. She didn’t know the her horse too hard in the beginning, leaving compassion of his heart, the tenderness in no recovery of wind. Lambert remarked which it strained to her over the intervening its w'eariness as it took the next hill, labor¬ space. He forgot all, he forgave all, in the ing on in short, stiff jumps. At the top the soft pleading of romance which came back rider held in, as if to let the animal blow. to him like a well-loved melody. It stood with nose close to the ground, He fretted that dusk was falling so fast. weariness in every line. In the little strips of valley, growing nar¬ The sky was bright beyond horse and rower as he proceeded between the abrupt rider, cut sharply by the line of the hill. hills, it was so nearly dark already that she Against it the picture stood, black as a appeared onlyxiimly ahead of him, urging shadow, but with an unmistakable pose in her horse on with unsparing hand. It the rider that made Lambert’s heart jump seemed that she must have some objective and grow glad. ahead of her, some refuge which she It was Grace; chance had been kind to strained to make. him again, leading him in the way his heart He wondered if it- might be the cow- would have gone if it had been given the camp, and felt a cold indraft on the hot choice. She looked back, turning with a tenderness of his heart for a moment. But, hand on the cantle of her saddle. He waved no; it could not be the cow-camp. There his hand, to assure her, but she did not was no sign that grazing herds had been seem- to read the friendly signal, for she there lately. She was running because she rode on again, disappearing over the hill was afraid to have him overtake her in the before he reached the crest. dusk, running to prolong the race until she He. plunged down after her, not sparing could elude him in the dark, afraid of him, his horse where he should have spared him, who loved her so! urging him on when they struck the level They were entering the desolation of the ONE HUNDRED PER CENT. 305

hills. On the sides of the thin strip of of tender concern in her name. There was valley, down which he pursued her, there no reply, no sound of the hoofs of her were great, dark, rocks, as big as cottages fleeing horse. along a village street. He shouted, calling He leaned to look at the ground for her name, fearful that he should lose her tracks. No trace of her passing on the in this broken country in the fast-deepening hard earth with its mangy growth of grass. night. Although she was not mo|re than On a little way, stopping to call her once two hundred yards ahead of him now, she more. His voice went echoing in that quiet did not seem to hear. In a moment she place, but there was no reply. turned the base of a great rock, and there He turned back, thinking she must have he lost her. gone down the other branch of the valley. The valley split a few rods beyond that Whetstone came to a sudden stop, lifted his point, broadening a little, still set with its head with a jerk, his ears set forward, fantastic black monuments of splintered snorting an alarm. Quick on his action rock. It was impossible to see among them there came a shot, close at hand. Whet¬ in either direction as far as Grace had been stone started with a quivering bound, stum¬ in the lead when she passed out of his sight. bled to his knees, struggled to rise, floun- He pulled up and shouted again, an appeal dered with groans. (To be concluded NEXT WEEK.)

LUKE McGILL, night police captain, red hair. “ Tis a quiet Sundah for a was in the throes of writing a report ‘ dhry ’ town, I’m a liar! An’ ’tis a long to Chief Tommy Carew. It was in¬ time yet till Mondah mornin’!” tended to lie upon Carew’s desk in the Grinning, the lathy reporter who “ stood morning. Luke bent over his desk like a in ” glanced over the crabbed cipher: football-player about to charge an op¬ posing line. He held his pen like a sword. Aquaris, Oct. 20, ’18. CmEr Carew: His communication was parenthesized with We got to look out for bootlcgers; its cer¬ groans, comma’d with sighs, and finally tainly wet around here. Theres fifteen below perioded with a grunt. at 8 p.m., an about fifteen hunderd drunks Finally he straightened and extended the above, Judging from reports. The patrol- cart was down on Leper strete takin in di¬ paper to Bert Sims, the spectacled police verse members of the Committy of Forty reporter of the Aquaris Evening News. Bums and oficer Lundigan come in from the “ There!” syllabled Luke, clawing at his north side with old Bill Prentiss in a wheel- 9 Argosy 306 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

barow. Any one who thinks this is now a “ He’s harmless, ye say? I’ll not say dropless town needs a undertaker; he’s dead nay to that! But ye’ll not deny he might to the world. Oficer Wild arested that niger the warrant not shtay that way! ’Tis a cop I’ve been was swore on for eatin the other one's ear this thirty year, an’ there’s no trustin’ thim off. He’s some mussed up hisself, as the loonies! To-day they might set up wid a other coons tride to tare him apart afterward. sick dog, an’ to-morra they’d nail their ould He’ll be ready to be arranged before the grandmother to a tree! The map av a judge in the mornin. I recomend you to get busy to-morro on saint, an’ the divil winkin’ in the eyes av matter of comitting Huckelbery Henry to the thim! hot-air house. It dyed down for a while, but “ This Huckleberry, he niver harmed a its up agan. That old geezer has seen his fly, but if he changed like the blink av yer best nights; he ain’t the man he used to be, an he never was. He scared a bunch of eye he’d invent a new way av torture to wimmen stiff Saturdah night on Peoples kill the insec’! Thim hollow-heads, they go Square, startin Billy Sunday jew jitsu an along all their lives widout thinkin’, or else preachin a sermon aganst short skirts. They thinkin’ al| t’ wunst, an’ then they fly off said he talked immodest about em. Betcr on some hunch av murther, an’ there’s a sick the doctors onto him to-morro an shoo him to the gas house. brand-new story for yer paper! Huckelbery Henry was pickd before he “ ’Twud not surprise me at all if this grew. He’s ioo % nuts. Huckleberry shud wan day run amick. An’ Luke McGill, then he’d kill that ould wife av his, in the Night Police Captain. shack just inside the county line up at Bert Sims handed back the paper. Popular Plains, a new way! Maybe choke “ About Huckleberry Henry,” he pro¬ her to deat’ wid huckleberries—” tested mildly, “ don’t pick on the poor old The telephone upon his desk pealed a relict. We’re all nuts, you know, when it summons. He swung in his chair and comes to that, only some of us don’t happen grasped the receiver. to have been cracked yet.” “ Yis, yis! Hello!” he called, and lis¬ “ He’s saw too many days an’ caused too tened. “ Phwat’s that?” he asked sharply. much throuble,” replied Luke. “Aw, all right!” he finally announced re¬ “ Also joy,” reminded Sims. “ What signedly, and hung up. Absently he would a county fair up this way amount to dropped the report he had just completed without Huckleberry Henry? What would into an open drawer of his desk and closed the huckleberries, turning their wee azure it. He swung back in his chair. bellies to the sun up at Poplar Plains, do “ What’s up, Luke?” asked Bert Sims. without him to gather them? What—” With some difficulty Luke contrived to “ G’wan,” grinned Luke. “ Don’t you conceal a rather satisfied expression with a take a shy at him wid yer typewriter ivery scowl. now and then? The ould skate’s harmless, “ Speakin’ of epidemics,” he growled, I’ll grant, but he makes the women nervous, “ the short-skirt wan wid the women is a an’ I’m for the women! An’ this short- dom sight pleasanter ’n some others. Here’s skirt epidemic has hit him crazier ’n ever. Chief Carew gone an’ took the flu! He’s He’s a nuisance wid his personal sermons got it light, but the docthor says he’.s to an’ his dervish dancin’. Boy, ’tis war¬ shtay in two or three days. That means times, an’ the women’s nerves musht be kep’ two hours’ sleep for your Uncle Luke, an’ ironed flat as possible. up firsht thing in the morn to hould down “ If you was a woman, what’d you think the chief’s job. There’s no relief for me av havin’ a human ould titmouse leppin’ till I can get wan of the boys in me place at a gang av you on the sthreet, shpinnin’ here for to-morra night.” on wan toe, wavin’ his wings, an’ screechin’ “Too bad!” murmured Sims hypocrit¬ at you like a gorilla about yer fatted ically. He knew the secret joy that flooded calves?” Luke’s breast at the prospect of serving as “ Not all of them—” murmured the ob¬ acting chief. McGill, dissembling, turned servant reporter; but McGill chanted on. to him a darkling brow. ONE HUNDRED PER CENT. 307

“ I’ll get even for bein’ robbed av me of the hotel window continued to glare after resht!” he threatened. “If Huckleberry him till he was lost in the crowd. Then Henry ain’t left for the next town, y’ can along came an Aquaris merchant and paused bet a commish av doctors ’ll be houldin’ by the chair which held the nondescript. an inquest over his brain before night, an’ “ Evening, Henry,” greeted the merchant. he’ll travel over the clinkin’ rails to Oriento “ How was the price of huckleberries last the nixt day! ” season? I haven’t seen you in some time, Sims laughed and rose. “ Well, Luke, Henry.” see you in the morning.” A pair of strange eyes flashed up at his McGill winked. “ A-ha! Is the little face. Rather small, slaty eyes they were, lady singing in the choir to-night, an’ is it lent the appearance of more of size than to the church door ye’ll go?” they possessed by a permanent distention “Right!” acquiesced Sims, lighting a of the pupils, that would have told an cigar. alienist at once of the state of the old man’s “ ’Tis into the church door ye’ll walk mind, even had he been of conventional together wan av these days,” rallied the appearance rather than blatant of eccen¬ Irishman, “ an’ the ministher ’ll say, ‘ Bless tricities. ye, me childher,’ an’ afther ye’re wan, may¬ These dilated pupils were never still. be you might amount to something, Bertie. Hither and yon they were always darting, I’m thinkin’ she’s a betther newspaperman as if in search of the subtle balance that than you!” had been from his earliest youth denied his “ Altogether better! ” cheerfully acknowl¬ brain. The profoundest mystery of life edged Sims, and went out. was here—the death in life, in this case presenting the mask of merry Momus rather All the elements of municipal govern¬ than that of Tragedy. ment, from mayor to dog-catcher, were And deep down in those dilated pupils lodged in the city hall in Barr Street. Sims could be discerned, if one could intercept walked toward the pulsing hub styled Peo¬ the restless, darting glances long enough to ple’s Square, from which radiated streets catch it, the old man’s substitute for reason, like spokes toward the four winds. He by which he had fared through the north- proceeded down the square toward the land for many years, a “ character.” Unitarian church, where he expected to It was the uncanny cunning, the instinct meet Alice Preston, his fiancee and co- of a beast of the jungle that often outwits worker on the staff of the Evening News. the trained mind of a sane, sure, poised Midway he passed the big “ show ” man. windows of the Norris, Aquaris’s leading The face lighted by those queer eyes was hostelry. Occupying one -of the chairs, drawn and webbed and leathered with wherefrom guests viewed the throngs which years. Yet the movements of the long, always circled the people’s plaza of pleasant gaunt body of Huckleberry Henry—folk evenings, was a wizen, gorgeous little figure. had long forgotten his surname—were as Passing the glass and glancing inside as agile as those of a boy. one’s attention is involuntarily attracted as As the merchant, smiling at the prospect to the contents of an aquarium, Sims no¬ of being entertained for a few moments, ticed this amazing creature. He grinned sank into the chair beside him, he abruptly and nodded, receiving a stony glare. threw one check-trousered leg, skin-tight, “ Not speaking, eh?” reflected Bert with flapping bottoms showing rows of un¬ amusedly, continuing on toward the church. fastened buttons, over its fellow. Nervous¬ “ All right, Henry! I was going to tip you ly, but with untrembling fingers and exacti¬ off that McGill was after you, but go on tude of motion, he relighted a ragged cigar. and be railroaded for all I care. You’re Came his replying words, tumbling in a getting squeamish in your old age, over a torrent, precisely clipped, invested with a column or two. Guess Luke was right.” flat, bucolic twang that was never excelled The sartorial wonder in the chair in front by any imitating vaudeville artist: 308 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ No, Hiram, you ain’t seen me in quite fellows as through a glass, darkly, and yet a spell. But that’s your loss, Hiram; it surprisingly face to face—this was his meat, ain’t mine! ' his joy, his life! “ Now, about the price of huckleberries “ Now, I’m glad you ast me that, Hi¬ last summer, Hiram, I’ll own up to ye that ram,” he clacked, cunningly raising his stri¬ I didn’t get as much per quart as I expected dent voice to penetrate to all corners of the to, but I didn’t expect to. So I’m tol’able lobby. “ What fangs I got, hits, Hiram, satisfied, .tol’able.” an’ I don’t leave ’em in a glass o’ water He chuckled weirdly. “ Now, I guess, by my bedstead nights, nuther, like you Hiram, you start to kid me, you come out do!” - like you alius have. You listen, Hiram, an’ “Good.!” acknowledged the merchant, you’ll hear what the gen’lemen to my right amid the roars of the crowd. But his grin an’ left is hearin’. It’s your goat blattin’! was now a little forced. Confound the old You ast me about the price o’ huckleber¬ varmint, never before had he got under ries. You know as much now as you did Hiram’s hide! Who would have thought -behind, don’t you, Hiram? Anything more he ever would have noticed the new double I can’t tell you?” set of false teeth? Especially when Hiram His slaty eyes now bored into Hiram’s. had practised concealing the fact? Deep in the enlarged pupils danced the “ Now, about my age,” complacently little, mad, twin fiends that capered con¬ pursued Henry, his needlelike eyes perceiv¬ stantly through his whirling mind, the ing the tethering of Hiram Gilch’s “ ani¬ fiends that flung to him a mocking simili¬ mal ” after all these years, “ I don’t mind tude of reason; that guided him erratically, tellin’ you, Hiram. I expect to live to be a but with a certain lurid brilliance, through hunderd if I don’t slip—” the world he viewed distorted. He stopped suddenly; a vagrant thought With perfect equanimity the fat, pros¬ had cut in upon those attending his colloquy perous Hiram endured the caustic counter with the merchant—now, it was readily and the laughter it created among the seen, for once abruptly ended. guests. He had foreseen, through expe¬ Into the maelstrom of his memories tum¬ rience, what would be his fate when he bled that of the tall, young, spectacled approached “ the Sage of Poplar Plains,” police-court reporter of the Evening News, as the north-country press had long since at whom he had scowled as Sims passed the dubbed the famed vendor of huckleberries. window a little while before. But Hiram, whiling away an idle hour, was Immediately he scowled again and began willing to serve as a cushion for Henry’s to clack an indictment against the free and lightning shafts. He invariably found the untrammeled press. process interesting. The sage’s ammunition “ You folks know that young Sims?” he was always different. demanded of the circle, suddenly aggrieved. “ Anything more you can’t tell me?” he “ The reporter that does police for the repeated, with a discreet wink at the in¬ News? Huh! I thought ye did! He terested circle, while he handed Henry a thinks he is a godawful smart Aleck, he choice Havana and settled back luxuriously does! I don’t care a dang what folks say to be abused. “ Why, yes, Henry; I’ll bet about me, but be careful what they write, you can’t tell me your age. And I never say we! could tell from your teeth, you old cuss, “ That pop-eyed young galoot Sims, I’m because you haven’t got but three left.” after him! Didja see the story he wrote Lighting the weed from his remnant, up about me? He thinks he’s a President Henry displayed the trio of tabulated Wilson with a pen; ’stead o’ which he had molars in an unctuous grin and elevated ought to be confined in one. Had a lot o’ his feet, adorned with a pair of dingy tan fun with me, didn’t he? Yah! I ain’t no spats, upon the window-sill. With his cane Joe Miller joke-book. I want to be took he tapped upon the floor for attention. To serious, I do, once in a while!” be noticed, to spiel, to hobnob with his He had forgotten the guests. His gaze ONE HUNDRED PER CENT. 309

moodily sought the floor. He started mut¬ Henry cackled two crackling bars of dis¬ tering a disconnected monologue, for the cordant laughter and strode Majestically time being wholly oblivious to his surround¬ toward the booths. ings. The men around him found it rather All eyes followed him curiously. Sar¬ eery; including the discomfited Hiram, they torially he was unique. The rainbow was moved away. his inspiration. He wore a long-skirted coat, A traveling man stood by the cigar-case affected by dudes of the era of Grover curiously watching him. Cleveland. A scarlet vest and a hat of “ How does he happen to be loose?” he vivid crimson lent to his long, spare person, asked the cigar clerk. of a height of an even sixty inches, touches “ A doctor examined him a couple of remindful of the blackbird in Rostand’s years ago; said he wasn’t crazy,” explained “ Chanticleer.” His great, homy hands, the young .man. possessed in former days, as some men there “ Then,” demanded the drummer, “ who remembered, of enormous power, swung is crazy?” nearly to his knees. “ The doc who examined him,” non¬ He entered the booth indicated by the chalantly added the clerk. “ He was sent operator and seated himself upon the stool, to Oriento the next year.” applying the receiver to a huge ear. A A half-hour passed. The number of men silvery “Hello!” floated to him. Imme¬ in the lobby had thinned. Remained the diately his omnipresent lingual reservoir weird figure in the chair, glooming blankly fresheted in speech. at the tiled floor, enmeshed in a black, “ Hello! I swan, the Lord is kind to old formless mood induced by his grievance sinners! What fair dame wants to chew that he was not taken seriously. a while with Huckleberry Henry? If it’s Came an insistent peal from the tele¬ 'huckleberries you want, lady, I’m grievin’ phone booths. The young woman in charge to remind you they ain’t a thing on Poplar received a call which seemed to cause her Plains now but the poplars, an’ it’s due to incredulity. After a moment she summoned snow a lot ere the birdies nest again. a freckled bell-boy, giving him directions “ Mebbe you’re aimin’ to ast me to pick amid sundry giggles. on a banjo underneath your -window? I “ Buttons,” smiling to the tips of-his ears, done that once, mebbe you remember; jauntily advanced to Huckleberry Henry, toured the north country a month till the wadded in his chair, and tapped him on the cops stopped me. I had a reppytor of twro thin but stalwart shoulder. pieces. One was ‘ Nearer, My God, to “ Lady wants to talk wit’ you, sir,” he Thee,’ an’ t’other was the same thing, informed him with exaggerated politeness. played backward, like the Kaiser’s retreat. “ Huh? Wha-what?” demanded Henry, I was bestest on the second. starting up -nervously. “ What’s that? Oh, you’re Miss Alice The bell-boy raised his tone for the bene¬ Preston, of the Evenin’ News? Do I re¬ fit of those remaining in the lobby. member you? Well, I sh’d say I do! You “ Lady at the telephone, sir, wants to found me drunk an’ half froze on Ailing chat wit’ you. She’s got a sweet voice, too, Street last winter, an’ you hustled help for but I guess she don’t care w’at she does wit’ •me. I’d been sure nearer the Lord to¬ it.” night if it hadn’t been for you! Huh? With the gibe Huckleberry Henry was You’re phonin’ from your house? An’ you his addled but competent self again. His got somethin’ to tell me? What—what’s puckered eyes and lean and withered lips that? together flashed in fiendish glee. “ Ho, ho! ” he snarled vengefully, after “ Let the lady do w’at she likes with her a pause. “ That’s their game, is it ? Luke voice, Turkey Face! You keep your gobble McGill goin’ to send me to Oriento, eh? in yer neck!” An’ you’re tellin’ me so I kin git out o’ the He leaped up threateningly. The dis¬ city before he grabs me? Well, that’s very comfited boy scuttled away. Huckleberry kind of you!” 310 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

He listened for another moment. “ Who his reddened eyes. Soon his honkings dis¬ told you, you say?” he clicked. “ What! played the depth of his slumber. That young Sims, of the News? An’ he’s The intermittent blasts of locomotive there with you now? I’ve got a bone..to whistles, near the Barr Street crossing at pick with that young feller! Huh? Won’t the foot of the hill below the city hall, dis¬ I forget it an’ let bygones be bygones? Say, turbed him not at all. Nor did the ululat¬ Miss Preston, you can love yer enemy arter ing sirens of theTactories at seven o’clock. he’s dead! Well, much obleeged for the Presently came a banging upon the door tip. Good night, Miss Preston, good of McGill’s improvised boudoir. night!” “Seven thirty, chief!” piped the ordi¬ He banged the receiver into place and narily resonant tones of Lieutenant Am¬ left the booth, slamming the door. His brose Coyne, in simulation of the “ coffin- wrinkled face was a thunder-cloud. He nail voice ” of a bell-boy. “ Will ye have strode out of the hotel, muttering rapidly yer shave with yer ice-water?” to himself while he clasped and loosened his Luke groaned and rolled to a sitting pos¬ big fingers. ture, grinning ruefully at memories of rest The drummer who had remained talking “ broke off in the middle.” with the cigar clerk watched him hurtle “ Is it you, Ambrose?” he called. through the door and turn in the direction “ Thank you, go t’ blazes! Phwere’s of Barr Street, wherein was situated the Briggs?” city hall. “ Gone home. Didja want to catch the “ Tell you, Ed,” asserted the commercial 5 a.m. train south, maybe? I called ye up traveler, “ ’tisn’t safe to leave a bat like to tell ye to go to sleep again; the train has that at large. Take it from me, some day gone.” the rockets inside his cage will go off, and “ If I’d just got up fresh in the mornin’,” he’ll carve up the community promiscuous retorted Luke, “ an’ cudn’t think of a with an ax!” younger wan than that, I’d go to bed Languidly the cigar clerk shifted his again!” weight to the other foot. Chuckling, Coyne returned to his desk, “Oh, nothing like that!” he drawled. and McGill returned to the lavatory for a “ Henry would never wind up by doing any¬ hasty toilet, and then to the restaurant thing as common as that! Depend upon it, across the street for breakfast. my friend, when Henry springs anything Returning, his manly, brass-buttoned like that, it’s bound to be sprung in some chest expanded with justified pride as he brand-new way!” reentered Carew’s office. He was to be acting chief for the day—perhaps for two Luke McGill, as the first faint streamers or three days! of dawn streaked the autumnal Monday Seating himself at the desk of power, sky, sat dozing in his chair. He roused at he opened the routine mail, and glanced the step of burly Lieutenant Briggs enter¬ longingly at the letters he might not touch ing the office. —those addressed peculiarly to the real “ Aw, is it you, Al?” greeted Luke, yawn¬ chief. The tread of the patrolmen starting ing a man’s size yawn. “ Listen! Take' out on the day’s beats had ceased. Luke the desk until Ambrose comes on at seven had despatched Lieutenant Coyne to watch thirty. Chief Carew is fluey; I’ll shlape the doings of some suspected “ bootleg¬ in me pants in his office on the cot, an’ you gers,” who were alleged to be supplying knock on me door whin Ambrose comes. sundry of the soldiers from the garrison of An’ I’ll act till Carew is back.” Mackley’s Bay, adjacent to Aquaris, with He propelled his two hundred pounds of illicit liquor. The acting chief was alone bone and muscle into the chief’s office, in the office. threw off coat and vest, let down his sus¬ Suddenly he espied a report, lying by penders, and removed his shoes, extended the pile of mail. A glance apprized him his five-and-ten upon the cot, and closed that it had been turned in after he repaired ONE HUNDRED PER CENT. 311

to rest in the chief’s office. Evidently, at the slight pause. Something was wafted Coyne had left it upon the desk when he with the voice, throbbing over the wire— was at breakfast. something that set odd pricklings along the McGill read the report, which was from- big captain’s spine; something that made the pen of Patrolman Lundigan, one of the him catch his breath in suspense. night men now gone home. He scowled as “ I thought the old geezer was fooling at he read: first,” continued Hayden, “ but there was something in his tone that meant deadly At 12 Midnight I was at the end of my earnest. He said he was on his way to kill heat on Laccoon strel lookin out over the flats Sims; Sims had written some story about toward the Dinrmite house of the public works deppartment. There was BuCkelbury him he didn’t like. Sims has just come Henri just goin away from there. I holered in—” at him an asked him what he was doin, and “ Any signs of Henry yet?” demanded he thumbed his nose at me an legged it I McGill. Cold beads of sweat broke out went there an the dore was fast, but you ■cant tell. Theres a careless old padlock onto upon his brow. His dilated eyes mechan¬ it an any key most wild unlock it, as the ically turned toward Patrolman Lundigan’s public works deppartment has been told more report, which he had flung upon his desk than once. It may be all right, hut the when reaching for the telephone. A sharp squirls from the park have ben hoppin after regret pierced the tumult of his faculties. Huckelbury Henri for a long time now. I thought I beter report tt, caus you never can Why had he not set in motion the machin¬ tell what di'nimite won’t do. ery for depea-ting Henry to the insane asy¬ lum the previous week? Acting Chief McGill sat tilted back in “ No,” answered Hayden swiftly, “ not his chair, twisting the report in his hands. yet—wait! ” Temporarily the matter of attending to the McGill waited in strained suspense, committing of Henry to Oriento, which he scraping his heels. He heard. the weird had assured Bert Sims would be attended murmur of distant voices, the blur of in¬ to this day, had been swept from his mind. distinguishable words. He heard a horri¬ Uneasily he now wondered if it should not fied exclamation; then into his ear poured have been done early the previous week, tense words, tumbling over one another: when Henry had come to town from his “McGill! Hurry here! An office-boy shack upon the outer fringe of Poplar just came in; he says Henry is headed for Plains. here, muttering, and waving a stick of When a guy was one hundred per cent dynamite!” nuts, delays were always dangerous! At which moment the telephone bell at his McGill, blindly groping for his hat, elbow rang an insistent summons. Luke jammed it upon his red head and fairly ran started nervously and grabbed the instru¬ out of the building. In front was a taxicab- ment. driver whom he knew. “ Hello! ” he called. “ This is the chief’s “ Tom!” he gasped. “ To the News of¬ office. Phwat’s wanted?” fice, quick! An’ then dhrive away from In reply came a voice he recognized, there! Niver mind why! ” raised a little in unwonted excitement. It The four blocks were quickly covered. was that of Raymond Hayden, managing McGill leaped from the taxi. The aura of editor of the Aquaris Evening Nelvs. fear had spread to the driver. Without “Hello!” called Hayden. “That you, understanding the concretely urgent reason McGill? Say, I had a telephone message for haste, he drove rapidly away, as Luke from Huckleberry Henry just now; he had directed. wouldn’t say from where he phoned. It Luke bolted into the city room. There was a booth call; I’m trying to find out stood a quiet but white-faced group, headed "from where, but central was chewing too by Hayden. With them were Bert Sims much gum—” and his fiancee, Alice Preston, a brown- “ Yes, yes! ” £ut in McGill impatiently haired, blue-eyed, slender girl in the plain, 312 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN'S MAGAZINE.

sensible business woman’s costume of the alike the servant of man’s constructive day. She was editor and reporter of the effort and the roaring instrument of chaos. woman’s page. McGill, watching him warily, took a Upon her flashed McGill’s glance. stealthy step toward him. Catlike, Henry “She should not be here!” he cried. perceived the motion; catlike he precipi¬ “None av ye should shtay! Clear out! tated a thunderous moment. ’Tis a temptation to him if he comes!” Instantly his big fingers released their The girl’s blue eyes showed wider than hold upon the deadly munition. Instantly, any one there had ever previously seen them too, he stooped, with the swiftness of light, —but they remained calm. She looked at and caught it again before it had thudded Sims, standing at her side, then at Hay¬ upon the floor. den. They returned the look with strained Grasping it, he shook it in McGill’s face. smiles. He screeched an ultimatum, while madness She spoke, and in her low tone there was flared in his eyes. no tremor. “ See? You stand back, you big stiff! “ We’re newspaper folk, captain,-and we You make another move at me, an’ it ’ll won’t run, any more than policemen. We hit the floor, hard!” stay with the ship, srnk—or rise!” They shrank back, voiceless. All but McGill’s eyes flashed irrepressible admi¬ Alice Preston, who, though colorless and ration. He started for the window. staring, found a dry voice of appeal. “ Maybe ’twas a bluff,” he began. “ He “ Henry—” may not—” His free hand negligently waved a ges¬ “ Listen!” ture of interruption. Hayden whispered the word. They all “ ’S all right, Miss Preston. You was turned and stood transfixed, a half-dozen of good to me. You won’t be hurt. I like them, listening in uncanny silence broken the ladies, I do. It’s that spectacled pup only by the quick, measured, nervous tread beside you I’m arter. He wrote me up; I ascending the stairway—a tread they all want his heart; I come to get it!” instinctively knew as they visualized the He rolled his terrible eyes at Bert Sims, gaudy, hurrying figure they had often seen eyes more horrible than they had ever seen; in the streets of Aquaris, at the county fair, his thin lips writhed in an incredible snarl, where not. displaying his few yellowed fangs. They heard the steps reach the landing, Upon which growled announcement of and without pause turn to the corridor sinister intention Sims answered iiW-fashion down which they had often walked for pur¬ that would permanently attest his manhood poses of “ confab ” in days before their in the community of Aquaris. His reply owner’s increasing irritability had excluded was made indomitably and with stiffened newspapers and their workers from his good lips. graces. “ Yes, Henry; I heard you were after Through the open door walked Huckle¬ me. And I’ll go with you, anywhere you berry Henry and faced them. like. But don’t kill me—here!” There was a terrible change in his lined Beside him sounded a low moan of pro¬ and withered face. Instead of the wide test; Alice Preston’s slender fingers con¬ smile they recalled so well, he was scowling vulsively pressed his arm. He glanced blackly. down at her; what she saw in his eyes His slaty eyes, rolling madly, darted behind the lenses would inspire her endur¬ hither and yon, scanning the blanched faces ing respect. before him. Deep down in the distorted “ Wait, Henry!” pupils leered and grimaced the twin imps It was McGill’s voice. During the col¬ that had early ousted his reason. loquy the nimble brain under the red Swinging loosely in his big right hand was thatch had been working with professional a long, thick, round stick, brown-hued, coolness. It was a brain disciplined by promising the most frightful of deadliness; years of working out of tight places. ONE HUNDRED PER CENT. 313

Distrustfully the madman, who had been Over Henry’s leathery face flitted a bewil¬ glaring at Sims, now looked toward the dered, uncertain expression. His needle¬ police captain. like eyes seemed to expand the more. “ Well,” he snapped to McGill, “ I’m a “ Why, no, Luke! ” he conceded. “ D’ye waitin’!” know, I never thought of that. Do I have “ Now, Henry,” persuasively wheedled to have a permit?” McGill, voicing a memory that had flashed “Sure ye do!” urged McGill, quick to to him of a tenet which Huckleberry press his advantage. “ Now I’ll tell ye. Henry had preached much throughout his Ye want to observe law an’ ordher, like ye hectic years, “ you’ve always been a ghreat always have, an’ I’ll tell ye w’at we’ll do. upholder av law an’ ordher, ain’t you?” We’ll shtep down to the city hall together Henry’s eyes lost their wild glare. The an’ see Judge O’Donnell. Ye exshplain little imps, deep in the enlarged pupils, what ye want, an’ he’ll make out yer permit, twinkled. A complacent smirk split the al¬ an’ ye can then come back here an’ kill most toothless visage. He stood swinging Sims accordin’ to law. W’at d’ye say?” the deadly brown stick that he was carry¬ Again endured the suspense. Three pairs ing this day in place of his cherished cane. of eyes among them steadily watched the He swung it with nerve-shocking careless¬ lunatic—McGill’s, Sims’s, and Alice Pres¬ ness, but it was observed that his fingers ton’s. Doubtfully, cunningly, his slaty grasped it closely. eyes darted to their faces in turn, while his “ Yes,” he clacked, eying McGill askance. clouded mind debated the question McGill “ I’ve upholden it. What about it?” had brought up. “ Yet,” pursued Luke argumentatively, Finally he nodded decisively. “ That “ ye come up here to kill a man, defyin’ sounds reason’ble, Luke,” he conceded. law an’ ordher. How d’ye reconcile it wid “ Fair to middlin’ reason’ble, I sh’d say!” yer conscience, man?” “Fine!” wheedled Luke, throwing his “ A conscience I ain’t got,” retorted final card of diplomacy. “ Then you hand Henry stubbornly, “ no more' ’n you, Luke me that dynamite, an’ we’ll shtart.” McGill! It’s for law an’ order I’m pro¬ Leaped again into the wrinkled face its posin’ to kill this four-eyed yahoo, Luke. heritage of cunning, gifts from the box of I got a perfect right to kill him. I looked Pandora lent by the twin little fiends that it up in the Scriptures last night, to make rioted in his eyes. sure, an’ it was there. I disremember the “Oh, no, y’ don’t, Luke!” he jeered. passage, an’ I ain’t noways goin’ to take “ Huckleberry Henry can carry his own the time to look it up again, nuther. Why,” stick! I’d be feared to hand it oyer to nervously fumbling his munition, “ the dang you; your Irish hand might slip! No, sir- lath ought to be dead afore now!” ree, I’ll walk down to the city hall with His voice had risen. Lightninglike, you an’ get that permit, but I’ll carry this though he dared not approach the lunatic, little insterment o’ justice! You walk on McGill thought of another point of his your side o’ the walk, Luke, an’ I’ll walk on subtle argument. mine!” “ Yes, Henry,” he conceded, “ we all know you got a right to kill Sims here, but A few paces behind McGill and Henry, there’s wan thing ye’ve forgot.” as they entered the cross street that led “ What’s that?” demanded Henry sus¬ to -Barr Street and the city hall, walked piciously. Hayden, Sims, and Alice Preston. Again McGill turned upon him a steady, ac¬ Sims pleaded with her. cusing eye. “ I think ye’re violatin’ the “ Alice, can’t I induce you to go back? Sullivan law,” he said gravely. “ It in¬ It isn’t safe for you—” cludes dynamite as well as pistols or knives. “ It’s as safe for me as for you and Mr. Dynamite, Henry, is a deadly weapon. Hayden,” she retorted with firmness. “I Have ye a permit to carry it?” won’t go back unless you two do! I’m For an instant endured strained silence. going to see it out!” 314 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“It will be all right,” put in Hayden, His basilisk gaze was fixed upon McGill, with an assumption of confidence he was standing transfixed with horror a little in far from feeling. “ McGill willgetTiim going advance as Henry’s arm launched forward. into the door and grab the thing before he Every figure there stood in despairing can drop it—or there may be another po¬ paralysis—all but one. As the brown stick liceman inside to help.” came whirring and whirling, straight toward His voice was hoarse, his hands were the police captain’s head, there was a shrill trembling slightly with the reaction from cry, followed by instant action, as the train the protracted strain in the office. But, whizzed for the north and the county line. with his companions, he resolutely followed Out from the group, rushing toward the “ in the wake of danger,” a habit of news¬ menace, came Alice Preston. Her hands, paper folk the world over. upflung desperately, clawed the air; caught As McGill and Henry—who had walked the round, brown stick—and held fast. widely apart, McGill deferring to threat¬ Gasping, she reeled a little, then faced ening gestures with the munition^—neared about. the city hall, came the ringing of an .engine To the men, who now made shift to ap¬ bell from the railroad station. Were audi¬ proach her, she exposed blue eyes that were ble the sounds of a train gathering momen¬ bigger and rounder than ever they would be tum. again. Into her pale face surged banners Opposite the entrance to the municipal of color. From her red lips burst a peal building the air was rent by a shriek like of hysterical laughter. that of a catamount. Huckleberry Henry The round, brown stick dropped from her swerved from the captain’s side and ran relaxing hands to the road-bed. No ac¬ down the hill toward the Barr Street cross¬ companying reverberating roar—apart from ing, wildly waving the brown object of the diminishing thunders of the train— deadliness. drowned the tremulous cadence of her two “My God!” yelled McGill, “he’s goiri illuminating, incredible, astounding words: to smash the train!” and quickly put after “ It’s—wood!” him. The years had added their poundage. The faces of three men, crowding around The meager figure ahead, despite advanced her, were studies fit for the inspiration of years, was nimbler. Even before the train, an impressionistic painter. gathering speed with every turn of the Next came the words of Luke. McGill, wheel, had passed the gates, the oldmaan accenting mounting spasms of bewilderment had reached them and crawled under, wild¬ as he investigated the brown “ joker ” in his ly -waving the long, round, brown stick. inquiring hands. Staring, sickened, breathless, four figures “ Wood it is; so’s me bean! Yes, an’ came racing behind him, anticipating the ’tis hollow! An’ here’s the cap to it; it moment of crashing doom. The newspaper comes off. An’ here’s a note jammed into folk were close upon McGill’s heels. it—’tis for meself!” \ The last car, a passenger-coach, rumbled He began to read the missive. It was by at fifteen miles an hour. Came the flash as crabbed and misspelled as one of his own of a clawlike hand—Huckleberry Henry police reports. .was safely upon the lower step; a simian But McGill was at no trouble to absorb spring landed him upon the platform, ju9t its message. The spirit of sprightly mock¬ as the quartet ducked under the gate.and ery in the first two lines caused him to stood together . fairly upon the tracks. guard the note from three other pairs of Henry whirled; his devilish puckered inquiring eyes. Impolitely he turned his face grinned vengefully at them above the broad, blue back and read on: railing; again his eyes were lighted with a Luke Magill : bedlam glare. One hand clutched the iron I hear your aimin to frame me for a nut rail; the other whipped above his head, cake. Well thats all rite you big irish stew. grasping the brown stick. Ime aimin to frame^you too. ONE HUNDRED PER CENT. 315

I was tipt off a year ago you was goin to Luke McGill did not hear the voice. He get me shot to orento. I fixt this stick then did not see the two News men supporting I spent a lot o time paintin it to look jus like dinahmite but I know I got it all rite all rite. the girl, now white with the inevitable Folks feres dinahmite a damsite moren the reaction, to an adjacent drug-store for a lord I notice. Its somethin they hafto respec. restorative. He stood glaring down at I know Ive got it cause I painted it from a Henry’s note, his fingers pinching the paper dinahmite modi. Veres ago I was a painter vengefully. The Huckleberry person had before I went in so mutch for inteerior dec- ratin but my old hand aint lost its cunnin by launched the deadliest of munitions—in a jugfull. verbal form. He hated to admit it, even to When I was tipt off by a nice lady on your himself, but he had got the worst of the fel desines I was al reddy for Ive carried this encounter. stick for a yere since I hurd what you was up to. I hurd Carue was sick an you was on “ Wants me to take him ‘ more serious,’ an I got a program lade out on witch lie haul does he?” he muttered. “ How in th’ hell you into it so help me god. Ive let Lundi- could I take him more seriouser ’n I did?” gan see me near the dinahmite house an I know hele report to you. A« lie thro a scare Acting Chief of Police Luke McGill sat into the News office an youll get a SOS rail an youll be there you big stiff. An maybe a little later in the office of the absent that young sims will keep you off me arter Carew. He was reading over a report writ¬ this. ten in his own crabbed hand. He had No orento for me you roamin holiday. dropped it into a drawer of his desk the Ime aimin to get this note to you somehow arter I catch the train north this momin an night before when came the telephone mes¬ hop off at the county line. By then my wife sage of Carew’s illness. Thoughtfully Luke an the mewl wil have moved my shack ioo studied the final line of that report: yards across the county line. I own ioo yards on each side the line and you rant Huckelbery Henry was pickd before he touch me in adams county. If you an adams grew. He’s 100% nuts. county tries to nab me together He play you the damdest game o tag you ever plade an Luke McGill shook his red head. He ' youll both be it. pondered for a space. He nodded, relieved. Another thing. Ive hurd you say I haled He grabbed a pen like a sword. Grunting, from Populer Planes. vYour a lyre. Its Popler Planes p-o-p-l-e-r you rummy. he bent to his task. He crossed out the Arter this you take me more sirius you final line and below it he painstakingly dang irish fool. wrote a revision. Huckelbery Henry. He finished. He sighed. He leaned upon a blotter like an office-boy upon a Near McGill a sweet girlish voice was letterpress. modestly disclaiming to a pair of wonder¬ He tilted back in his chair, holding the ing masculine coworkers upon the News amended report in front of him. In his any special heroism on the part of its owner freckled face remained nothing of resent¬ in the “ crisis ” just safely passed. ment, of malice, of uncharitableness. Rath¬ “ Of course, it’s ridiculous, but it locked er it reflected the nobler attributes of his real. And what I did was nothing at all. mercurial Irish nature; its generosity, its You know, I was the crack forward of the sense of humor, its admiration. girls’ basket-ball team. And I felt, some¬ A human fox was paying his tribute to how, I had to stand by and go along with the venerable daddy of ’em all. Incidental¬ you, and do anything I could, for—don’t ly, Luke had seesawed clean to the other you see?—I was thinking all the time how side of the eternal question of one hundred I insisted, after Bert told me what they per cent. Who, indeed, are sane? were going to do with Henry, upon calling The concluding line of the repqrt to him up and warning him. I felt responsi¬ Chief Carew, which Luke would keep in ble, don’t you see? But now—Bert—I his own possession as an heirloom, now feel—just a wee bit—shaky. It was just a read as follows: horrible joke of course, but somehow— well Huckleberry Henry makes me feel so— Huckelbery Henry ain’t never ben pickd. nervous!” He’s 100% Wise. CHAPTER XXXVH. her to hunt her up after five year. Then flyin’ off like that warn’t nothin’ but fool THE NIGHT WORE ON. jealousy which there ain’t no way of stop- AS the time for Esther’s marriage drew pin’ as I know of. Ef I did I wouldn’t be , nearer, Sam began haunting the post- so gosh darn jealous myself of, every man office. He had not heard a word ’at looks at her. Yes, I allow he jest natu¬ since her letter stating that her marriage rally couldn’t help hit. Howsomever, hit had been postponed until September i. He don’t make no never mind ’bout him. Hit’s received Ma’s wordy telegram, in which she what she wants as counts.” told him exactly how things were with He sat long, staring into the distance, his Esther, and demanding that he get that eyes resting, for once, unseeingly on his doctor to New York before the wedding. beloved hills. After calculating to a nicety The other telegram she had sent to Elvira, how much time he had to spare, Sam went hnd had received service on it that Barnes about his work in a thoughtful mood. was out of town. “ Well, now, hit was me she telegramed Esther^ telegram to Sam was received at fur—not him,” he ruminated, “ and if she , the same time as Ma’s. He put both in his air plumb bound to marry somebody she/ pocket, consulted a calendar, found a rail¬ don’t love, I allow hit might as well be me road time-table on the postmaster’s desk, as anybody—well, I reckon. She don’t like then mounted the big bay and galloped this artist feller no better ’n she do me— home, getting there before the sun had and blame my skin, not es well; or she reached the zenith. wouldn’t a telegraphed me to come git her. He did not unsaddle the big bay, how¬ I wonder if she meant she’d marry me?” ever; but fed and watered him and went in That Sam might put this construction on to get his own dinner. For once he left the her telegram was a thing that Esther, in dishes unwashed and went- outside where her troubled state of mind, had not once there was room for a man to think. He thought of. took out both telegrams and spelled them He carried the telegrams around as he did out. When he had finished he pushed his the chores, muttering from time to time. hat far back on his head and stared off Pie made all arrangements to be away for toward the Sills. some days; then dressed, and mounted the “Well, I’m dnmmed if women ain’t big bay. Outside the gate he paused to plumb curious,” he remarked at last. “ That consider. “ That fool doc oughter have his fool doc don’t deserve her no way at all; daylights punched out; but blame my skin, but I allow he must ha’ been purty soft on I ain’t the man as can do hit.” This story began in The Argosy for April 19. 316 THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 317

He started off toward Great Falls, the had been found, and his decision reached. big bay eating up the miles in an easy, He was headed toward the Truman ranch. swinging gallop. “ Yep, I’ll build her a fine house an’ git Miss Mattie, who was recovering much some carpets an’ some of them curt’ins that more slowly than was necessary, as both she you roll up on a stick.” and Barnes knew, was in the back yard He sighed heavily as his eyes rested on when Sam arrived. She sent him to the Crown Butte. Directly he spied a big field to find Jim. rattler lying dead by the side of the road. The cow-man drew rein about twenty feet He dismounted and turned it over with the from the doctor. He had come ten miles—• toe of his boot, seeming to study it intently. he couldn’t go those twenty feet. Sam stood and looked earnestly at the “ Come here,” he commanded, while the harmless mottled sign of past danger. big bay champed to get at the wheat. “ Kill or git killed,” the cow-man mut¬ “ I reckon you can’t make me, Sam,” re¬ tered. “ That’s between man an’ snakes, plied Barnes with a twinkle in his brown howsomever—not between men. I allow I eyes. ain’t never took no mean advantage of no¬ “ I allow I’m willin’ to try agin,” Sam body; but—she telegramed for me. Mebby replied; then burst out: “ Come here you— so hit’s me she wants. Old lady Frank don’t fool. Hit’s about—her.” know everything.” Barnes covered those twenty feet in He turned the rattler over on its back and “ nothing ”; nor did he take any notice of slowly mounted the big bay again. This the' epithet that ordinarily would have time he held the horse down to a walk. He dragged the man who uttered it from his had plenty of time in which to reach Vaughn horse. and catch the dummy into Great Falls in Sam handed him Esther’s telegram, say¬ time to get the night train going East. ing as he did so: Sam’s mental processes, when the big bay “ Go git her if you want her; an’ ef was under him, were always marked by the you’re sich a jackass as not to want her, I'U, motion of the horse. go. I’ve lost good time now cornin’ over Now the big bay shook his head impa¬ here to fetch you the telegraph; I done hit tiently at his master’s evident indecision. for her.” “ He wusn’t a lovin’ her or he wouldn’t “ But—but she wired you to come and ’a’ let her go East alone an’ come out of his get her,” Barnes said dazedly. way to ast about her,” he said aloud, as “ Ef I didn’t know she—wanted you, you usual making no discrimination except in —do you think I’d a rid over here fur you? his own mind about Maida’s and Esther’s I’d ’a’ seen you in hell fust.” relation to Barnes. “ An’ I allow old lady The power of this speech sent Barnes Frank ain’t no fool; an’ hit takes a woman racing over the wheat-fields. Sam overtook to know a woman.” him. Still, he rode slowly on toward Great “ Here,” he said, dismounting. “ You Falls. ain’t got no time to lose ef you ketch the “ Ef it warn’t that when I make up my night train out of Great Falls.” mind to somethin’ hell hitself cain’t stop Barnes mounted the bay without a word. me, ef I git a chanst at it, an’ I mostly don’t He hesitated. “ Sam—” He choked. care who gits hurt. But even a damned “ Sam, I—” rattler gives a man warnin’ before he strikes. “Ah, go to hell.” Sam turned his back An’ by God is it her that I want, or is it squarely. He followed the physician in on her wants that I want?” foot. A sudden kick of Sam’s right heel on the A perfect storm of emotions was whirling flank of the big bay, a sudden jerk on the in Jim Barnes’s heart and mind. It right rein, and the horse, wheeling suddenly was as if suddenly, without warning, the back, broke into a smart swinging gallop great funnel of a cyclone had dipped down that indicated the manner to Sam’s question into a quiet field and picked him up bodily 318 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

and spun him along, giving him not even headlight almost useless. The rain beat time to think or feel. He was conscious of against the windows as if it would batter a great joy in the speed and motion of it; them in. «but a greater fear of the end. Suddenly he became aware of their de¬ Esther wanted him. Sam knew. It was creased speed. Inquiring of a brakeman, he joy ineffable. He was on his way to get learned the reason. An impotent atom, the her! But would he be in time? The very slave of an inexorable monster that he could question caught his heart in a fearful vise not urge forward by one revolution of the and twisted and tore it out of all reason. wheels, he sat on the edge of his seat, his He would get there in time—he would! body leaning forward as though hoping in Sam reached the ranch-house just as the that way to go ahead a little faster. His doctor, satchel in hand, was mounting his very muscles ached with the effort he ex¬ own horse. They rode away together. pended. He left off counting and bent all Barnes missed the night train, but the his energies toward pushing that train morning train would get him into New York ahead. at nine forty-seven on the morning of Sep¬ Why hadn’t he wired her to wait for him? tember i. Nine forty-seven! Surely she Suppose she hadn’t sent for him! Sam would not be married before that time. He knew. He could have made it as a plea. could get a taxi. He ought to be at her She couldn’t have been offended even if place by—well, close around ten o’clock. Sam were wrong. And what cared he for They couldn’t be married before ten! At pride? She could do no more than—what least people didn’t generally marry so early sire had done before. He would send the in the morning. Eleven at the earliest— telegram from the next station. maybe twelve, or in the afternoon. Unable to sit still, he got up and went forward. There was not so much as a flash Round and round went Barnes’s mind as of lightning to show them where they were. he sped toward New York. August 29, Even the trainmen could not be sure. How August 30, August 31. Yes, he would late would they be? They were now fifty surely get there in time to stop it. No minutes late, as near as they could figure it. doubt came to him about taking her. She But they might make it up and run in on loved him. Sam knew! Otherwise he would time if the storm would let up pretty soon. not have sent him. With that he had to he content. Anyway, Nine forty-seven! It would take him there was hope in it. He would send the three minutes to get out of the train and telegram, though, in case they didn’t make to the street. How many blocks was it? it up. Thank God, it was so near! Ten minutes Suddenly, as though the clouds had let ought to be ample time—ten o’clock! Surely fall their entire reserve, the rain stopped— she would not—round and round his mind stopped completely. They would be seventy went, over and over—nine forty-seven! minutes late into the next station. Three minutes to— Barnes sank back in a state almost of Lack of sleep, insufficient food, and the exhaustion as the train began to gather a severe strain began telling on him. His little speed. As he did so the engine stopped mental processes narrowed down to the with a jump. The cars quivered and hideous count. Every other thought was rattled, bumped back against each other, shut out. Even Esther became vague in his then came to a dead stand. Everybody was mind—the end of the count. up. What had happened? Barnes made his A storm had been brewing all day on way through the smoker. August 31. He hardly noticed it. Toward* “ What’s the trouble?” he shouted. the middle of the afternoon it broke—a “ Engine off the track,” a man answered. veritable cloudburst, so thick and fierce that “ Rails spread. Good thing we were going the train began to move more cautiously. slow.” It crept stealthily through the blinding “ Does this mean that we’ll get in late?” downpour that made even the powerful Barnes foolishly demanded. THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 319

“ Maybe a couple of hours, maybe The roads were fearful. The buggy^ longer.” The conductor seemed quite re¬ wheels sank into the soft mud, and the signed to an indefinite stop. mare’s flanks showed the strain of pulling Twelve o’clock at the earliest! He wauld her own feet out of her tracks as well as walk to* the next station and send the tele¬ the load behind her. gram. They reached Lawrence after an eternity “ Better not leave,” cautioned the con¬ and drove directly to the electric trolley ductor, to whom he mentioned his intention. station. A train was just ready to pull out. “ Never can tell; we may get out in a few Barnes caught the hind end of the last car minutes. Just got to jack the engine up as it moved off, went inside, and tried to and get the wheels on the rail.” read to compose himself. It was impos¬ When the dawn began to break in the sible. sky they said they would have to wait He missed No. 9 in Kilgore by one for another engine. And Barnes started off minute, and was told that he would have to down the tracks for the station. He would wait for No. 15, which was due at three wire in Sam’s name and his own, asking her fifty-five. This would arrive in Jersey at for Heaven’s sake to wait. A sickly light 10,23 P.M. overspread the world as he got into the little Here, too, thanks to the storm, the wires station. He had to hunt up the agent, who were down, and to send a telegram was out had gone home to bed. of the question. He found a man with a “ Can’t send any message,” said the man big roadster who was willing to make the when Barnes had stated his business. drive at top speed for a hundred dollars. “ Wires all down, telegraph and telephone.” He was a skilled driver who had been in “ God!” cried Barnes. several notable races as mechanician, and The agent, who had appeared a little he gloried in racing against time. peevish over being roused so early in the “ I’ll make it a hundred and fifty if you morning, was arrested by the agony in the can get me into New York in five hours,” young man’s voice. said Barnes. “ Somebody sick?” he quizzed. “ Can I?” cried the driver. “ Say, this old “ No, no! Is there any way to get out boat can run rings around anything ever of here—some place where I could catch a put behind a radiator.” train on another line to New York?” They were barely in place in the bucket “ If you could get over to Lawrence you seats of the car when the motor began to could catch the electric that runs into Kil¬ pop. There was a sickening skid over the gore and get No. 9 on the R. and G., due at wet street, a lunge and a roar. Somebody eleven twenty.” screamed; then Barnes felt the car take the “ How far is it to Lawrence?” gas, the clutch dropped in and they rolled “ Fourteen miles.” away. A quick change from first to second “ Is there a garage in town?” and the car shot off, slid down a grade just “ No. But old man Patterson has a car. out of town, and stretched her nose out on He makes trips over. He runs the telephone the long, smooth road. The driver eased system here.” the throttle open, and the car responded It turned out, however, that old man Pat¬ with a steadily increasing noise. The odor terson could not leave town. He was line¬ of castor oil became more noticeable. An¬ man as well as manager, and it was utterly other quarter-inch down-pull on the throttle impossible for him to leave with the service and the explosions settled into a roar. disrupted. Nor could anybody else in town Almost before Barnes had settled himself run a car. the next town loomed into view, and there¬ Finally, in desperation, Barnes got a man after towns flashed by with something of the with a horse-rig who would take him over effect of the passing telegraph-poles of the to Lawrence. After the usual delays of the preceding days. At each one there would small town, where a short trip is a journey, be a sudden reduction of the terrific speed, a they started. circumspect run of a few minutes with a 320 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

wailing of the siren-horn; then away once Two miles out of a little flag-station the more. end was reached. The car coughed once, Now and again they would stop for gaso- then settled down to peace. The crank-case ^ line or water. All along the road were signs was split through the center. A warm of the storm. Sometimes they were forced stream of oil dropped out, and with a last to go more slowly by the condition of the dying effort she shoved the end of a con¬ highways. At such times Barnes had an necting-rod through the already shattered insane desire to get out and push the car over the bad places. “ She’s done,” remarked the driver, with And then would appear that most tragic the racing man’s quiet acceptance of the of all signs to the man in an automobile: defeat he has fought like a demon. Without a word Barnes turned toward Best Temporary Road the flag-station with its few houses looming in the distance. The driver wasted no time And they would detour over ridgy fields on the hopeless car. One look had told him and through sticky mud. that he could do nothing but walk in and After a while they struck the public get help. They tramped together in silence. highway, and the young man at the wheel “ Here,” Barnes said when they found let the big car out with a roar that thrilled that nobody in town had a car that could the tense man beside him. There was a cry be hired, “ you did your best.” He handed in the driver’s racing-blood for speed and the driver the hundred and fifty dollars. more speed, and he gave himself over to the “ Give me the hundred,” said the man. orgy of it. I didn’t get you in.” They quit talking, quit thinking as the “You wrecked your car trying to,” re¬ - big car ate up the miles. plied Bames. “ I hope that covers the Once only a motor-cop caught them. The damages.” driver told him that the doctor was racing The driver found some one to help him to beat death to New York, where his out, and Barnes settled down to wait for mother was very low', and the officer ac¬ the train. There was po telegraph-station. cepted the ten dollars Barnes gave him and It was after three o’clock. He was still nodded assent for them to go on. two hours from New York by fast mail— Neither of them thought of food. Once and the fast mail would not stop. they stopped for a change of tires, which the All hope was gone. He had lost. They young man made with the expertness of a were perhaps already married. Certainly racing mechanician, with 'whom an extra they would be before the crawling local on second may mean a lost race. . which he must travel would get into Jersey. Suddenly the roar of the car changed to a stuttering cough. The motor had chewed up a handful of valves. CHAPTER XXXVIII. The driver was out before they had come THE STRIPPED SELF. to a full stop. “ Get those valves out of my tool-box,” AUGUST 31. The date flashed into he called to Barnes. He was already half Esther’s mind as her eyes opened. * under the hood. To-morrow was her ivedding day! All night In a time incredible to one who has paid long the thought had been prodding, half by the hour for having a spark-plug changed waking her. Now, at dawn, it jerked her or new valves put in, the two men were conscious mind into actionv She did not again on the road. hurry out of bed, but lay there staring at Then the car began to stop every few the gray wall of the tall building across the miles for a fit of sputtering and. coughing. street, with its smoky, lifeless eyes. ^-The driver would work frantically as though What was the thing she wanted to think a great race were at stake. Barnes mean¬ about? Oh, yes, her wedding day. To¬ while sat grim-faced, or acted as helper. morrow she would marry. Paul! Somehow THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 321-

she had not believed it would happen. No¬ fragile thing out of its box. The French body was happy—nobody true. Deep down girl was in raptures. Esther’s eyes danced, in the souls of them, all men»have a secret flashing blue-green, golden. She ran to the chamber where the true self is hid—the mirror, Clotilde after her, holding to the unlovely, stripped self, locked away from slight train to keep it from dragging. the world’s eyes; mayhap locked away from “ Oh, it’s a-dream, Clotilde! ” Esther held that other self whose true name is bluff. it up against herself. As for Philip, he had locked a door since “ Eet iss two dream! T’ree! Un-uti—< his marriage. He seemed very much his old oh, je ne sais pas k nombre en anglais self, thoughtful and frivolous by turns; Clotilde exclaimed, after floundering for a but hiding—always hiding. She knew. big English number. “ Il-y-a cent—” Esther had not seen Aline again. She “.Yes, a hundred dreams! Oh, oh! Is had wanted to talk to Philip—to sympathize it a gown for a woman or a mantle for an with him; yet, how could she? angel?” She rose languidly. Suddenly she felt “ For you, ze petite angel of M. Paul! ” tired—old. Mechanically, assisted by her An automobile-horn sounded under the French maid, she went through the process window. of dressing. “ Oh, there’s his car now! Hurry, Clo¬ During breakfast the telephone rang. tilde! Put it away and help me dress. Run Qotilde answered. to the window, tell him I’ll be down in five “ M. Paul,” the maid told her. minutes. I’ll try the gown on when I get Esther went slowly to the phone. home to-night!” “ Good morning, Paul.” To-night! How bravely we say: To¬ “Good morning, dear! To-morrowd” he night—to-morrow—I will do this or that! whispered. Vainglorious egotists! Ants under life’s There was a note of ineffable joy in his feet! voice. Esther’s soul cringed within her as she “ To-morrow,” she repeated. “ It doesn’t felt the warmth of Paul’s arm against her seem as if it can be true.” in the car. Suddenly it came over her that “ Beauty is always true,” he answered she could not—could not do this thing* And gladly. yet she must. Yes, she must go through with it. She could not turn back, because The day was over. The last hairpin, the there was nowhere to turn. She was going last bit of ribbon, the last paper of pins to be married To one of her best friends. had been bought. All the packages had It seemed like marrying one of her kin— been delivered. The two larger trunks and almost indecent. And to live with him as the hat trunk were locked and ready for his wife! The full horror of it laid hold of the transfer people. Even the wedding- her. It sickened her—made her faint and gown had come in promptly as promised at dizzy. six thirty. Esther and Clotilde, the maid, Her mind was in a daze all through eagerly tore away the many layers of tinted dinner. It was past time for Sam’s train tissue. from the West to get in. He had not got “Oh, Clotilde!” Esther cried. What her message. Even if he came in on the woman can resist the beauty of the wedding- morning train of the following day it would gown, even when the wrong man is master be too late. She was to be married at mechanic at the wedding? ten o’clock. Paul had insisted on a white gown. Their And the worst of it was that she didn’t wedding was to be a simple ceremony in know whether she hoped he would get there Esther’s apartments, with only a few of the or not. After sending the telegram she had artist’s most intimate friends. Esther had suddenly thought of how he might miscon¬ asked Ma Frank to come, and the solemn strue it. She dared not think of this even. Lillie. Dear old Sam! And poor Paul! Together the two women took the filmy, A quiet little breakfast with Ma and 10 Argosy 322 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Lillie and Philip for guests had been “ Yes, and lost.” planned, and by noon Paul’s yacht, the “ Well, be a good sport and abide by the Lotus, would be bearing them away. consequence,” he said. “ Paul, please don’t come up this eve¬ “ I will. Philip, I was impressed by what ning,” Esther said when, after dinner, they you said, ‘ Success is just happiness.’ Most stopped before her hotel. She had insisted folks think success means gratified ambi¬ on his bringing her home immediately. “ I tion.” want to be alone this last evening.” “ There is no such thing,” Philip replied. Paul, tender and considerate as always, “ Ambition is a thirst that can never be left her at the elevator. slaked—for the moment you have finished Clotilde was all excitement when Esther one draft you have need of another. ” got in. Before she could reply the telephone rang “ The tel’phone-bell he have ring so insistently. much! ” she exclaimed rapidly. “ All the “ Maybe i’ll find out who has been call¬ time the voice of men; but they would not ing me ever since I went out,” said Esther, for you leave one message. And six men going to the phone. have come asking to see you since you have It was a message to say that Ma Frank gone out. I have said you would return at was sick, and asking Esther to come at eleven and a half, or jnidnight.” once. Startled and worried, the girl lost Esther felt vaguely curious, but she was no time in doing so, and Philip took her too deep in her immediate future to give over in his car. As she got out he caught much thought to anything else. Hardly her hand in a long, firm grasp and said: had she removed her things when there “ Good-by, my child!” came a knock on her door and Clotilde ■ To Esther’s surprise, there was no doctor admitted Philip. in attendance on Ma. Nor was Lillie even “ I know it’s against the rule,” he said there. The old woman made a great show in his blithe way. “ Whose rule? I don’t of being very sick, but would not permit know. But I felt that I must come up and Esther to call a doctor or leave her bedside. have one last little chat with Esther Bowles Nor was any one else permitted to come in. —my child.” Esther invited him to sit Esther had a curious feeling that Ma was down. She was touched by his visit. not sick at all. At two o’clock the old “ To-morrow you will be my friend’s woman urged her to go to bed in her old wife,” he went on. “ A grown-up lady and room, saying she would have her called passed out of my ken. Remember, it was I early next morning. who advised you to cast me out when I could be of no more use to you; but I Esther was awakened the following morn¬ refuse to be kicked out entirely before ing by the sound of Ma Frank’s voice in to-morrow.” the upper hall. Esther smiled in spite of the sickening She jumped out of bed with a start. Her heaviness that seemed fairly squeezing the wedding day! She must dress and get over breath out of her. All day she had waited to the Dunston at once. Sam had not come! for Sam. She looked at the clock—it struck seven. “ Oh, mon Dieul” Philip was saying. “ I Three more hours! never thought I could be so sentimental! “ My goodness gracious! ” cried Ma. “ If I think it is because you interested me. I here ain’t that man with all them devil’s never wearied of you.” books of hisn.” “ What a compliment!” Philip Grenville, mounting the narrow “ It’s true. You have a mind that never steps with a white, strained face, looked -lagged in stupidity behind me. I always behind him expecting to see a book-agent. counted on you for refreshment of outlook, He turned to the irate woman in surprise. and got it. She was standing at the head of the steps, “ Did you give yourself a gambler’s her red hair frowzled, her flowered kimono chance?” he asked seriously after a while. pulled tight about her fat hips. THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 323

“ Which with me a tellin’ my Lillie not to Riddle ’ to read—oh, I saw it in her rooms open her mouth to nobody, and her never at the Dunston, and telling her God ain’t bein’ a cacklin’ hen nohow, I do believe the God, but He’s force, a flingin’ arms and man’s a witch, or anyways in cahoots with legs onto people and insides into ’em and the Old Boy hisself, and don’t need nobody getting ’em all into their right places same to tell him where folks is.” She set her free as God could. Him not being needed to do arm akimbo at her side. it.” Philip’s astonishment was too profound Light dawned in Philip’s mind; she was for words. He stopped on the top step and not crazy after all. He tried'to break in on stared at the enormous female blocking his her, but he might as well have tried to dam way and talking to some one unseen by him. a swollen river. “ Which, if I had my way,” she went on, “Which it’s the evil eye I do believe “ they’d bum witches to-day same as they you’ve got, a bringin’ bad luck to everybody used to. What with him a makin’ my legs you come around.” Her voice rose furiously and my insides fly into their right places above her protestations. “ Bad luck to your without a hitch.” wife that you just married, and bad luck to Philip decided that perhaps Ma Prank your friend, and bad luck to the poor little was mildly insane. He had talked with her girl to be married to-day, and you talkin’ once while waiting for Esther to come in, as if there wasn’t such a thing in the world but had merely thought her amusingly as trouble.” eccentric. Her straggly red hair worked loose from He called back down the stairs to Anes¬ all its pins. She lost her hold on her ki¬ thesia, who had sent him up. “ Which door mono several times. ‘ She was rage and did you say?” comedy combined and personified. But her “ Sir?” words sobered Philip. He repeated his question. “ Mrs. Frank,” he broke, in urgently, “ Straight befo’ yo’ face, top of stairs, “ that is why I came to see Miss Bowles. second floo’, front parlor,” she screeched I feel that I have done her a great injury in some irritation. without intending it. I am her friend, and “ Man, be you blind?” raged Ma, “ that I have wanted only to help her. I’m over¬ you go callin’ down to Anesthesia and me whelmed by this thing. I—” a standin’ right in front of you, and me that “ Well, seeing you acknowledge you done big I can hardly get up them narrow stairs, her wrong—” Ma hesitated, pondered a which salts baths ain’t no good at all?” minute. “ How’d you find out she was “ I was looking for Miss Bowles,” Philip here?” she asked suspiciously. gasped, almost timidly. “ I brought her over last night, and find-. “ Which don’t you suppose I know it, ing she had not gone home, 1 thought she or you must ’a’ put my brains into my stom¬ must be here.” ach, or maybe so into my feet. An’ you Ma sniffed, then turned away as Philip oughter be ashamed to do it.” mounted the stair. “ My dear Mrs. Frank—” Philip began. Greatly astonished at Philip’s early call, “ Which don’t you ‘dear’ me, I bein’ a Esther had dressed hastily and opened the Christian woman and never havin’ no deal- door for him. in’s with Satan, nor none of his witches. I He greeted her by holding out the morn¬ don’t believe in witches.” ing paper. He was silent—his face was Philip was profoundly disturbed. But white and drawn. no'thing could overbalance his innate cour¬ Standing in the door of her old room, tesy. with Philip and Ma just outside, Esther “ Pardon me,” he said. “ I know it will took the paper Philip extended. A curious be disappointing, but if you think I’m a foreboding laid hold of her. The six men witch, you are mistaken. I shouldn't know whom Clotilde said had tried to see her, how to be a witch.” the phone calls, Ma’s subterfuge, all raced “ What with givin’ her the ‘ Devil’s through her mind. 324 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

And then she read the hideous thing. able. She outlined the scene in Esther’s The head-lines fairly shrieked: room in detail. The article continued with biographies of DIVORCE AND DAMAGE SUITS. SAME the parties in the “ latest divorce scandal,” DEFENDANT! that of Esther being cautiously worded, but highly colored. It ended with the statement Bride of Millionaire and Actress Start Actions Together—Favorite Model of Noted that repeated efforts to get into touch with Artist Named in Both. Miss Bowles had been unavailing. Esther read the story to the last word. Esther reeled and clutched at the door¬ Her arms dropped and the paper slipped jamb for support. Instantly Ma Frank from her fingers. She stared agonizedly at caught her in capable arms and set her Ma and Philip. gently on the bed. Pushing aside the glass The clock struck seven thirty. The girl of water Philip poured from a carafe on the jumped. The man lifted his head. table, Esther held up the newspaper again. “It’s damnable!” he cried. “I had no Into what new depths of humiliation had faintest hint of it till this morning. My she been plunged? God, Esther! To think I could have brought such a thing to my two best friends! I Naming Miss Esther Bowles, artist’s model, suits for divorce in the case of Aline Gren¬ thought of my happiness first, my friends ville, bride of six months of Philip Grenville, second, and the world not at all! And here the millionaire clubman, and for alienation of is the result. Come, let’s go to Paul’s at affections by Belle Benton, affianced wife of once.” Burton Davis, a theatrical manager, were filed yesterday. “Man, be you crazy?” shouted Ma. Mrs. Grenville claims that her husband “ Her go with you?” visited Miss Bowles as late as last evening, “No; I forgot,” he replied humbly. after the suit had been filed, at her home in Esther took a taxi and went alone, leav¬ the Dunston. Miss Benton in her complaint ing Ma fairly pushing Philip out, the while charges that she discovered her affianced hus¬ band on the fire-escape of a room occupied she declared he had the evil eye, and com¬ by Miss Bowles at a theatrical rooming- manded him not to look at her. house. It is understood that Miss Bpwles Esther found Paul in the studio reading was to have married Paul Evers, the well- the story. He looked up vaguely. known painter, whose favorite model she is, this morning. “ Esther,” his voice sounded strange to her, “ was Philip—in your rooms—last— An interview with Aline followed, in. night?” It seemed as if he could hardly which she told of having pretended to go on speak. a visit to her parents on the morning of She nodded silently. the previous day, and being taken to the “ You wouldn’t let me go up.” station by her husband. She had got off She wanted to tell him that she had not at the first station and returned, employed known Philip was coming up. She opened detectives, and had him followed. In the her mouth, but no sound came. afternoon she had filed suit, but had kept “ You—didn’t—let me,” he repeated. the detectives on her husband’s trail. She She shook her head dumbly. had thus learned that Grenville had gone to He stared at the carpet. “ Asked me— Miss Bowles’s apartment again in the eve¬ not to—come in.. Said you wanted to be— ning. She did not know how long he had alone.” He paused as if unable to go on. stayed. Then: “ You—know—this—Davis?” He Next came an even more damnatory stared dully at her. statement from Belle Benton, who was de¬ She nodded again. scribed as a sweet, middle-aged woman who, “ In his—company?” His eyes dropped. for fifteen years, had been engaged to He did not look at her this time. Davis, giving up her youth in waiting for She cleared her throat, swallowed hard him to marry her, which she claimed he had twice before the word came. “ Yes,” she promised to do as soon as he was financially croaked. THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 325

The man fell silent again. “ Come, get into the car. We’ll drive— “ This story — fire-escape — a lie,” he I’ll—take you home.” stated, his eyes darting from side to side. She made a motion to a passing taxi. Again she struggled for speech. It stopped and she got in. Paul tried to “ No,” she gasped out. “ I can explain.” follow her. He glared at her as if his mind had gone “ Go away!” she gasped. blank, and passed his hand back over his “ Can’t let you in, sir, if the lady don’t head two or three time in rapid succession. want you,” growled the burly driver. He “ He came to—see me about—” What pushed Paul away, slammed the door, and had he come to see her about?. To offer climbed to his seat. her a job? No. She couldn’t tell Paul that. The artist stood on the curb as thpy What then? There was no explanation that drove away. He watched her go with the one could make — that anybody would idle look of one wh

“ Aline is getting her divorce,” he said voice, and his words laid a cold hand on in a hesitant way new to his impulsive Esther’s heart. tongue and rapid, passionate speech. “ I “ What do you mean, Paul?” she asked, will be adrift, little Esther, with too much fear clutching her. money and nothing to do with it—you “ Why, don’t you see, dear, we are cast started out to find all the worthless things out? Shamed and disgraced! Is it not that my money can buy—we are friends, more beautiful to step out than to go on chums; we never jar on each other—I in a world that has become unbeautiful? would be very proud of you as my wife. I wish I might have painted my great pic¬ We could live abroad. I have sacrificed ture; but it is as well—my great picture you. Let me make it up to you with my would have been a lie. There is no beauty sincere friendship and admiration; also here. I have learned the truth. I could with what my money can do. What you never paint again. There is nothing to say, cherie?” interpret. I have no wish to go on, and How splendidly he had put it! As I can’t leave you here, my darling, to face though all compliment and sacrifice would alone a life that is hideous.” be on her side. “You weakling!” Esther cried, anger - Esther had not once interrupted his long now mastering her fear. “ You poor bab¬ speech. She was too full for words. Now bler, crowing over life while the sun shines she caught his hand in a passionate clasp, and then squawking in terror at the first pressed it impulsively to her cheek, and sign of storm! So that’s, all there is to then motioned for him to leave her alone. you—a bubble of theory to be scattered He understood, and went out again in by a breath! A coward who struts on the search of Paul, who was at that moment drill ground and runs at the first sound of searching for him. artillery! I’m glad I escaped you! Glad! Everywhere Paul went he fourfd that Glad! It’s worth the price twice over. Philip had been looking for him. He did Shame and disgrace? I can face them, not know what to make of it. Evidently and gladly! But the one thing I couldn’t Esther was not with him. Then where was face, now that I know you, is life with a she? weakling! ” Like a flash it came to him—Mrs. Paul stared at her in amazement. This Frank! was the first time he had ever seen her He turned his car at once. Ma met him angry. Dimly the beauty of her in a tow¬ jn the lower hall. Much as she had come ering rage caught the senses of the artist to oppose Esther’s marriage to the artist, in him. A vagrant thought came to him she now greeted him with open arms. that he must paint her like this. Without question she directed him to the He started toward her, opened his mouth girl’s room. to speak; she would not let him. “ Come in,” said Esther’s voice in re¬ “Don’t come near me!” she cried, in sponse to his knock. “Paul!” she ex¬ the wild fury of her volcanic nature now claimed, as he entered, closing the door let loose. “ Such a friend! A traitor to behind him. Philip—unworthy of his big, fine love— “Oh, my darling!” he cried. “I have unworthy of the faith I had in you, and come for you!” unworthy of the life God has given you!” “ Paul, I can’t marry you,” she told him. The more she talked the angrier she got.' “ I can’t.” The cumulative action of the past months, He looked at her a moment in a curious, topped by this blow of Aline’s and Belle’s, intent way. had left her weak with the pain of it; but “ You must come with me, Esther,” he rejoicing; like a woman who has at great said. “ We are going on a long cruise to¬ suffering been delivered of her child and gether. We are out of tune with beauty. is faint and sick—but rejoicing. Then had We must have new strings.” come this man who had seemed so strong Something in his eyes, in his hushed and fine in fair weather, and was but a THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 329

useless craft going instantly to pieces in There was no hope anywhere—nothing foul! to do but wait! She rose up in righteous wrath, in de¬ And he waited. fense of her young child—freedom! He got acquainted with that village from “You are utterly mad!” she stormed. every angle but that of hope. He watched “ Yes, mad for love of you,” he said two fast trains thunder by while he waved calmly. “ Mad! Mad! My beautiful frantically to stop them. Esther!” His voice began rising. “ I want After a million years or more had passed you as I never wanted anything in my life the local train crept in like a wounded snail before, and what I want I take! It is the that may fail while you look. Like the law of beauty.” same feeble creature it crept out with a Before she could realize what was hap¬ man on board who could cut and stitch pening she was in his arms; his lips were life’s finest, most delicate machinery, mas¬ on hers. She struggled, tried to cry out, ter man’s most malignant ills, and drive off but could not. He crushed her to him. death as by magic; yet who could not stitch She felt as though he were breaking every up one split crank-case, devise one auto¬ bone in her body. She tried to turn her mobile out of a gas station with free air face so as to get a breath, but could not. and expensive gasoline, nor change one His face pressed tight against her nos¬ railroad time-table. trils, shut off her breath completely. She Stopped at every way station, bumped was smothering and unable to move. He unevenly along, Barnes, almost a maniac, drew her tighter. His arms were a vise stood up as his train finally dragged into slowly closing on her, and that soon would the Jersey station. The boat crept across break her. The room swam. She heard the river. He could have swum over fast¬ voices in the hall just outside her door. er, he felt sure. She could not distinguish them for the “Here’s the number!” he shouted to a rush of blood in her ears, that hurt so. She taxi-driver when he got out of the ferry tried to make some sound that somebody station. He thrust the Dunston number would hear, by stamping on the floor. She into the man’s hand and climbed into the felt herself lifted. There was a terrific car. noise as of some one hammering against “ Get me there as quickly as you can.” her ear-drums. Then everything went The solemn-eyed Lillie did not hesitate black. to tell him where Esther was when he told her he was a friend from Montana, and Sam had sent him. CHAPTER XL. At Ma Frank’s he pushed a five-dollar AT 3 A.M. bill into the taxi-driver’s hand. “ How much?” he asked, starting up the steps on IF there be a hell wherein the soul must a run. * writhe and bleed and burn in helpless, “ Four dollars,” the driver said, apprais¬ hopeless torture, Jim Barnes would have ing his excitement. The doctor was al¬ nothing to learn by going there. In a little ready ringing the bell. The driver hesi¬ village whose only acknowledgment of the tated, then followed him. “ Change, sir?” fact that there were automobiles was a gas “ Keep it—keep it.” station announcing its business methods The man turned. with a sign of “ Free Air,” the young sur¬ “ Wait, I may want you.” He had a geon got acquainted with the state of the wild notion of going to the very altar for eternally damned. And he learned that her. one of its most hideous features is man’s Anesthesia opened the door. realization of his own absolute impotence “ Is Miss Bowles here?” —his complete helplessness to undo what “ Sir?” is done and his entire hopelessness for the “ Miss Bowles, Miss Bowles! Is she future. here?” ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

“ Yes, sir,” she whimpered, “ she’s up¬ Barnes grabbed Paul’s wrist and turned stairs.” the revolved slowly back in the artist’s owft “ I want to see her.” face. With a sudden wrench of his arm, “ Sir?” Paul twisted the ugly little barrel to one “ I want to see Miss Bowles!” side. A shot rang out, and with a scream Ma Frank’s head came out of a room Esther fell, just as Ma Frank ran in. down the hall. Paul relaxed suddenly, letting go of the “ My name is Barnes—Dr. Barnes; I pistol, and stared uncertainly. came to see Miss Bowles, if—” The doctor wheeled and ran at once to “Her doctor!” screamed Ma. “Go Esther. Without a moment’s hesitation he right up, doctor; second floor, front parlor picked her up, brushed Evers aside, and —which Mr. Evers is up there now, an’ ran out of the room and down the stairs I’m that glad you come I’m sick, which •before the 'boarders woke up. it’s no wonder if she is sick with all she’s They had begun filling the halls, how¬ been through this day—where -<5n earth is ever, by the time Barnes reached the first my shoes?” floor. He fairly plowed his way through Dr. Barnes was already on the next them and out-to the street where the taxi landing. His heart seemed to pound loud¬ still waited. er than his knock on the door. Evers with “ The nearest hospital! ” he shouted to her? So he had come too late. No matter, the man, who sent the car forward with a he had to see her and know for certain this jump. time that she was actually married. Arriving at the hospital, Esther was He knocked. There was no answer. He taken at once to a ward. She was in col¬ thought he heard a sound like the stamp lapse and had begun moaning piteously. of a foot on the floor inside the room. He Opiates were administered immediately to knocked again. Still there was no answer. relieve her, and reduce the nervous shock. Ma was puffing up the stairs. A brief examination showed that the bul¬ “ Which why don’t she answer?” Ma let had struck her in the right side below said. “ She’s there, an’ Mr. Paul is with the last rib. Penetrating the liver, it had her. Sweety!” she called. richochetted out through the back just be¬ Still there was no answer. By this time low the angle of the shoulder-blade. she had reached Esther’s door; she opened “ The patient is in decided shock,” the it. attending surgeon said. “We must wait At a glance Barnes took in the scene— for reaction to see the extent of the dam-, Esther in Paul Evers’s arms. Well—what age.” else had he looked for? Then the artist’s “ She doesn’t seem in immediate dan¬ head flashed around, and Barnes was gal¬ ger,” Barnes ventured in a thick voice. “ If vanized into a white fury of hate—for there are no internal hemorrhages—” He Paul’s was the face of a devil. broke off. Even as the artist turned and leaped si¬ The attending surgeon had recognized lently, murderously at the doctor, he flung Dr. Barnes’s name at once as the inventor the girl aside. She staggered back and of the operation which had made him fa¬ fell on the divan, and the men grappled. mous. He looked pityingly at the grim¬ Ma shut the door and ran to Esther, then faced man who must know as well as him¬ almost stumbled into the adjoining room self, yet almost pleaded for hope. for water. With evident hesitation the old surgeon The men struggled fiercely, silently. repeated Barnes’s own words: “ Yes, if Getting one hand free for an instant, Paul there are no internal hemorrhages—her slipped it into his outside coat-pocket, and chances for recovery are good.” Barnes caught the gleam of a small auto¬ Such meager hope, and yet, all he could matic. As Paul’s hand came out of his give—and Barnes knew it. pocket, Esther, who had recovered almost As a physician, he was permitted to stay instantly, started up. right beside Esther’s bed. And hour by THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE.

hour he waited, watching her every change “ Said ketch the next train,” Sam of expression, listening to her faint, inter¬ drawled. “ He sent ten dollars for delivery mittent moans, taking her pulse, and di¬ of the telegram to wunst. I allow he didn’t recting the nurses who came in and went figger I’d be thar to git hit. out. “Til wait and fetch you back with me,” Sam added. “ Here’s the hundred and ten Paul, aroused to a horrified realization of dollars.” the thing he had come near to doing, and “ My Lord! I can’t leave thisaway, of the thing he had unintentionally done, without notice! I ain’t ready.” She be¬ took up again his interrupted drive. Worn gan slicking back her hair and looking help¬ out in body from the long, hard day, weak lessly at Sam. from hunger, sick in mind and heart, and “ Then you ain’t goin’ back with me?” unconscious of his physical discomfort, he he suggested. drove at random, getting out from time to “ Course I’m goin’,” Miss Mattie time to phone the hospital. snapped. She cupped her two hands at her At three o’clock he was told that the mouth like a megaphone and turned her patient was not holding her own very well, face toward a herd of cattle in the distance. but would probably last through the night. “ Jer-r-ee!” she called in a high, long wail. “Yea—hoo-o!” came the answer from the direction of the herd. CHAPTER XLI. “ He’ll take keer o’ the cattle all right; but there’s all that good lye an’ that shoat WITH HESITANT FEET. jest ready to be kilt,” she complained. VjISS MATTIE TRUMAN was pouring “ Come in, Sam, an’ make ^Ourself at home. 1V* water into an ash-barrel that was set I reckon it ’ll be a right smart spell ’fore on a sloping board about two feet above I’ll be ready.” She looked at the telegram. the ground. She was watching with grim “ Take a sleeper,” she scoffed. “ Now does satisfaction the rich brown liquid that that boy think I ain’t got no better sense dripped into the bucket placed below it. than to go clear off to New York State an’ “ That ash-wood do make sich good not fetch a nightgown?” lye,” she muttered. “ Got ’bout enough “ He meant a sleepin’ car,” Sam volun¬ for a pot o’ soap. Reckon I’ll make it to¬ teered. morrow.” “ I ain’t got one, an’ I wouldn’t know “ Mornin’, Miss Mattie,” drawled a what to do with it if I had.” She bustled voice, and she turned to see Sam Tuttle into the house. Sam followed. coming around the corner of the house. “ You don’t have to own one. You pay “ Here’s a telegraph for you.” two dollars a night to sleep in one,” he “ My Lord! Who from?” Miss Mattie drawled. pulled her sleeves down quickly before tak¬ “ Me pay two dollars for a place to sleep ing the yellow envelope. one night? I’ll set up all the way to New “ Doc,” Sam replied laconically. “ I York State first!” she snapped. “ I done knowed hit was comin,’ so I went over to it cornin’ up from Texas. town an’ waited fur hit.” “ I can’t understand it,” Miss Mattie “ He ain’t hurt nor—” muttered as she fairly flew about her prep¬ “ Naw. Better read it. Wants you to arations. “ He told me plain—Sam, why come down East,” replied Sam, showing he haven’t you never married?” she asked ab¬ had read it. It said: ruptly. “ Why haven’t you, Miss Mattie?” Sam Come at once, next train. Wiring hundred asked, tipping his chair back on its hind dollars. Take sleeper. Jim. legs. “Land o’ livin’!” exclaimed the woman, “Humph!” she snorted. “’Cause I overcome by the demand. “ He wants me didn’t want to.” to go clear to New York State.” “ Same here,” Sam replied quietly. 332 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

The grim old woman eyed him keenly, an unprotected electric wire connected with then began busying herself with two large one of the boat-houses for lighting purposes. valises and a hat box. Beauty, failing him in life, had been kind “I’m goin’ along East with you, Miss in death. She had put no blemish on the Mattie,” Sam informed her after a while. esthetic face, nor scarred the fine, slim form She stopped 'short and stared at him. she had given him. “ Goin’ with me?” she snapped. “ What Whether his brakes had refused to work, for?” or, occupied with other thoughts, Evers had “ Two reasons. I don’t like that tele- not noticed the incline, none knew. Philip , graph. May not be nothin’ wrong, but I’m had vague misgivings, but he never gave goin’ to see. If they ain’t—well, they’s a voice to them. Sadly he took one of his plumb nice woman in New York,” he be¬ best loved friends to Boston, there to lay gan. “ I mean besides Esther,” he quali¬ him beside his fathers, while the other fied. “ She’s got eyes that sorter git in¬ stood with hesitant feet on the threshold of side o’ you, and I thought I’d like to talk the greaf divide. to her again.” “ Between life and death — Barnes and “ Well, talk about women,” Miss Mattie Paul!” Philip murmured as the train thun¬ said, “ men do clean beat me! ” dered along with its living and its dead. “-I wonder which of them will win.” — Coming out of the telephone booth at Staring out into the blackness of the Times Square after receiving the message night, he seemed to see a great door in from the hospital, Paul climbed into his car which stood a young girl, laughing. And and turned toward his apartment up-town. inside the door stood Paul in a mist, more Exactly whlSf happened no one knew, but spiritual than' ever, and a great beauty sur¬ a policeman standing on the corner of One rounded him; bn the outside stood Barnes, Hundred and Fifty-Third Street and River¬ big and virile. And storms and darkness side Drive at 3.30 a.m. saw a car turn in lay around him. from Broadway toward the Drive. As the And each of them held out his hand to machine reached the garage about midway her, and she gave one of her hands to each the block it began to gather speed. Par¬ of them. She looked at the men, and be¬ alyzed, the officer watched it down the steep yond them, and she laughed as she looked, incline over rough stones and gravel that then swayed toward— seemed to accelerate its speed. Philip drew himself up with a grim ex¬ As the big car reached the foot of the clamation. “ Am I turning fool or poet?”' hill it swerved to the right as though it he muttered. “ Never knew I had such an would turn into the fence surrounding a imagination.” graveyard on that side; but it struck the But the picture he had conjured stayed curb, and the nose of the powerful engine with him, and haunted him. And stand¬ righted toward the drive. Without another ing beside Paul’s last home on earth, he break the wild car dashed across the smooth caught himself whispering: “ Which?” asphalt and into the iron railing that pro¬ What a mess he had made of life! It tects the street from a drop of a hundred came to him that there was something miss¬ and fifty feet. The machine shot through ing from his philosophy that had led to the railing, taking a heavy cement post as such results. For he held himself respon¬ it went; turned turtle in the air, and sible. * crashed into two motor-boats beached be¬ With all the strength, yet without any low. of the fire of his nature, he loved her. It Paul Evers’s body was taken from the was the deep affection that often exists be¬ broad band of electric wires that run paral¬ tween man and woman toward the end of a lel with the tracks. There was not even a long life together—when the flame is dead, cut on him, showing that he had evidently but somejthing bigger and finer is there. stayed in the car until almost on the wires. He had not been killed by the fall, but by A report had been made by the hospital ’ THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE.

to police headquarters, and Barnes had an¬ collusion); turned the tide of sympathy to¬ swered the necessary questions. The shoot¬ ward the woman you failed to ruin, for Dr. ing had been accidental. He and Paul Barnes will marry her if she lives, and you Evers had been scuffling over the gun when are. not a widow, not a wife, and must go it went off and shot Miss Bowles. back to Elvira to receive the condolences Ma Frank had corroborated Barnes’s of narrow-minded folks who envied your statement. Paul’s valet identified the gun high flight, and will rejoice secretly at your that Barnes wrenched from Evers’s loosened downfall,” said Mrs. Potts with grim force. grasp as the shot was fired. “ And you can sit home evenings in our The papers made a big story of the acci¬ stuffy little living-room and knit—and grow dental shooting of Miss Bowles, the tragic old. You can’t join the mothers’ club be¬ death of Evers, and the withdrawal of Mrs. cause you are not a mother; you can’t be¬ Grenville’s divorce suit. Miss Bowles was long to the young folks’ social circle be¬ in a critical condition. The attending sur¬ cause you will be that object of scorn in a geon was very hesitant in his prognosis. It small town—a ‘ grass-widow’! You may was believed she would not last the week be permitted to work for the Ladies’ Aid out. The prominence of all parties con¬ perhaps; and if you ever get a divorce, cerned, not excepting the young surgeon where you once could have picked the best who sat without sleep, almost without of Elvira’s eligibles, you will then be glad nourishment, beside Miss Bowles’s bedside, to be picked by the worst.” kept the story running. Aline had stared at her mother all For the next three days her condition through this long speech, the horror of took alternate turns for better and worse. what she had done growing on her as Mrs. Barnes had not looked at a paper; knew Potts hit nail after nail on the head in her nothing of the circumstances of Esther’s characteristic way. And each nail, this broken engagement—just that it had been time, was driven in Aline’s coffin, as that broken. He learned this from Ma, who young woman was clever enough to see. stated just that and no more. Strangely she did not go into hysteria, Philip, back from Boston, came and went as was her wont when unpleasant winds like a spirit of unrest. On learning that his blew upon her, but sat silent, blinking at wife had withdrawn her divorce suit he her mother. smiled. And it was the smile of the exe¬ “ Well, I won’t do it!” she said at last, cutioner for Aline Potts Grenville, murder¬ rising with a bitter little laugh. “I’ll go ess of one, perhaps two, of his friends. to France to ladle soup.” Without a moment’s hesitation he went out, climbed into his car, and proceeded to his On the sixth day after Esther had been lawyers. He was closeted with them for a shot, word was given to her friends that a long time, in which a stormy scene was en¬ crisis was expected. If there were no rise acted; but he emerged triumphant. in temperature in the next forty-eight hours Mama Potts, who, on arriving in New all danger would be past. York, had been the cause of her daughter’s Ma sat as usual in the anteroom. Sam withdrawal of suit with a view to a recon¬ and Miss Mattie now sat with her. All ciliation, made no effort in that direction were silent. Miss Mattie was grim and when she learned the result of Philip’s in¬ upright, Ma sagging in her chair. Nurses terview with his lawyers, but she told her went noiselessly, on rubber heels, back and daughter exactly what her temper and vin¬ forth along the halls, or came into the room dictiveness had done for her pretty little and went out—always non-committal and person. mysterious. “ You’ve thrown away a fortune, an en¬ Bames, gray-faced, hollow-eyed, with set viable social position; descended to the jaw and compressed lips, sat grimly beside level of a common actress, made yourself Esther’s bed as though he would hold her the laughing stock of New York (for even to life by sheer physical force. Philip, com¬ the papers have contained veiled hints of ing in now and again, could not banish from 334 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. his mind the curious picture his fancy had her they loved, an actress who also loved drawn of Esther in the doorway—the two her, under the bright lines of a rollicking men, each calling, holding on to her, sway¬ farce, kept crying: “ Come back, friend! ing her now this way and now that. Which Come back!” was stronger—the call of the spirit or of And mayhap when the curtain went the flesh? down an audience complained: “ She isn’t Maida, playing in stock in Brooklyn, very good in that part.” And while they with little time for reading the papers be¬ picked flaws in her work where the man¬ tween playing one bill and studying and ager might hear to her disadvantage—she rehearsing another, finally heard of Esther’s frantically got off her make-up and sped tragedy. through the subway to take up the vigil She had not yet hunted her friend up be¬ with those other watchers. cause her vanity was biding its time. She The halls of the hospital in that hour went over between the afternoon and the between daylight and lamplight were shad¬ night performances. owy, and seemed full of the lingering, Barnes looked up as she entered Esther’s earth-bound spirits who had left their bod¬ ward. She looked at him, but no word of ies in this room or that and sought to re¬ greeting passed between them. She had cover them. The odors of disinfectants changed unbelievably in the few weeks that filled the nostrils as the moans of sufferers had passed. Her dark hair, worn in short filled'the ears from time to time. curls; her eyes luminous, and her face rap¬ Esther had ceased her moaning; she lay idly filling out, she seemed almost a differ¬ there white and still, her eyes closed, a lit¬ ent person. Though still very thin, she tle rim of white showing beneath the dark now looked slim instead of emaciated. And lashes. Her mouth slightly open, she to the grim, silent man by that bedside she breathed as with difficulty through it. owed this great debt. Yet she had no greet¬ The crisis was at hand. A nurse would ing for him—he had none for her. go in, take her temperature, hand the ther¬ There are moments in life so big that we mometer to Barnes, and come out. And forget the trivialities. Then words that are the watchers would look eagerly into her but pebbles skimming the flat surface of life face for some sign, but nothing showed. drop out of sight in the big waves. At seven o’clock, when Maida began to Maida went to Esther and bent over her, think she would have to go back to Brook¬ looking long into the flushed face that lyn for the night performance, in that ward turned restlessly on her pillow. The woman two doctors and a nurse bent over the suf¬ had no need to ask of her condition. fering girl. The little thermometer was Barnes’s agonized eyes had told her. She held in place by the nurse, while the two bent low over the girl who had called her doctors, each holding a wrist, counted Es¬ friend, and hot tears fell on the white coun¬ ther’s pulse. The thermometer was re¬ terpane. It was the second time Maida moved and handed to one of them, and the Ayers had cried in years. two straightened up and looked across the Hands clasped tightly at her breast, she little white bed at each other—and smiled. whispered: And the nurse smiled. “ Come back, friend! Come back!” There had been a sudden drop in tem¬ Then suddenly she slipped to her knees, perature and pulse accordingly. laid her head on the side of the little white Barnes went at once into the anteroom. bed, mid her thin shoulders shook silently His illumined face proclaimed it as all the .—heavily. Barnes put out his hand and tongues could not have done. He did not laid it on her shoulder. After a while she attempt speech—just stood there and got up and went out — still without one smiled. word to him. “ Thank God!” Maida cried. And Lillie And that afternoon, while the watchers laughed hysterically. sat at hand in the hospital ready to receive “ Jimmie,” Miss Mattie said querulous¬ word the moment the crisis was reached by ly, “ go wash your neck. It’s dirty!” THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 335

“ No, aunty, it’s my whiskers.” He at the melancholy autumnal beauty before grinned as blithely as though tragedy had her. not sat on his door-step for days. There was in her eyes a deep sadness, a “ Which who cares if his neck is dirty!”' question and—a fear. Ma broke out. Her voice was high-pitched She had that morning told Barnes all and shrill. Philip and Sam and Barnes about the horror that had brought her and were shaking hands enthusiastically. Paul’s engagement to a close. He had lis¬ Ma turned to Miss Mattie, who was tened intently, interrupting now and again standing near by, grim and silent. to ask questions. What was the truth about “ Mrs. Frank, this is my aunt, Miss Tru¬ the finding of Davis on her fire-escape? man—” Barnes was beginning. She had tried to tell him; and it had Ma opened the floodgates: sounded so flat and trumped-up—not at all “ My goodness gracious! If I ain’t that convincing in the. face of the big, damning glad to meecher. Come on; go home with situation. me, an’ le’s eat somethin’ an’ visit. I’m And then there was that matter of the starved. An’ I do wonder ’’—she looked at character woman’s accusation, that he had Sam—“ if you be after my Lillie, which it overheard in the theater, and that had looked like it, with you a holdin’ hands all never been cleared up—and she had had the time, an’ it’s scandalous in public if you to tell him in detail about the money which ain’t. An’ I won’t object, ’cause she’s that she had really taken from Davis, and how miserable for the desert she makes me mis¬ she had come to do it. She would not lie erable to watch her.” to him in one smallest thing. Sam, completely taken off his feet by this And again there had been that letter of proposition, colored violently and fumbled credit Burt had given her. She told him his hat in utter confusion. He liked Lillie; of that voluntarily. She had wanted to get he thought her the one fine woman in New it all out—the whole truth, so there could York besides Esther; but the idea of tak¬ be no ghosts to rise up and confront her ing her back with him was one he might some day—no skeletons to be forever hid-i never have thought of. den away in terror. “ Better let them talk it over, Mrs. Then he had asked her all about hers Frank,” smiled the doctor, coming to Sam’s and Philip’s friendship. He had let her tell rescue. it without interruption, and somehow his Lillie ran out of the room, and Sam fol¬ grave eyes on her face had disquieted her. lowed her sheepishly. Putting notions in Did he believe her, or did he not? She men’s heads had long been an art with Ma, had no way of telling. His face had been whose cool head had accumulated a good- an inscrutable mask. sized fortune in spite of the size of her It had confused and upset her to have heart and the length of her tongue. to sit there trying to explain something that She bore Miss Mattie off in triumph to had no explanation and needed none. How feed her as a special mark of approval. can we explain friendship? She had had a Maida made a run for the subway, and feeling of apologizing in an inane way for it is possible that an audience said that a thing the very apology for which was night: “ She’s good in that part; but not damning, not clearing, her. Clearing her pretty. Her eyes are too swollen-looking.” of what? Philip’s friendship? She had felt weak and futile, and had talked and talked as though she were CHAPTER XLII. afraid to stop, afraid she would leave some hole in the thin fabric of truth that she THE END OF THE QUEST. spread before him. And he had let her talk. T’HE Big Chief of the seasons was at When she had at last for no reason begun 1 hand with his paint-pot and brush to cry he had put his arms gently—oh, so when Esther was taken to Ma Frank’s. gently—around her and called her a “ poor Now she sat by the window, gazing out child,” and said that if we sin against our 336 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

bodies we pay through them, and if we sin The graceful, white-clad figure, slim and against the conventions we pay through supple as a young willow, appeared to sway them, one way or another. Nobody could toward her, and she was in the room. She escape the law. And he had kept saying seemed not to have walked there at all. poor child and soothing her, and finally Her soft black hair contrasted oddly with she had gone to sleep through sheer weak¬ large, deep-blue eyes. They were wide- ness and excess of emotions. open eyes, almost childlike in expression, When she woke Ma had told her that he and gave an air of youth to the tall, fragile had gone. He had not said where, but she form. had heard him talking over the phone. He “ She reminds me of somebody,” Esther , had called up the Pennsylvania Station and thought, and waited for the woman to had asked about a train—No. 20, he had speak. A mellow laugh came to her. called it. Then he had grabbed his hat and “ Oh, it can’t!” Esther whispered. A run out, calling to her not to wake Esther, picture of an ashen-faced, emaciated wo¬ and saying she would know where he had man with dull blue eyes and dry wisps of gone. straw-colored hair presented to her mem¬ But Esther did not know, She could ory. only guess. And she was horribly afraid. Then the woman spoke. He had asked a great deal about Philip, Something in her voice made Esther re¬ seeming to think more about him than call the horrible curse Maida Ayers had about Burt Davis. And she had admitted pronounced against Belle Benton. It was that Philip had proposed to marry her ' the same voice, only fuller, richer. after Paul broke with her. She wished she The woman was smiling at her. hadn’t told the doctor that, after all. He “I’ve come back—friend!” she said in was of a jealous nature. He had said it her rich contralto. “ And so have you! ” himself long ago. And he had seemed to Maida had not been to see Esther since think it strange that Philip should be so that night when they had all waited in the feady to propose to her after he had de¬ anteroom of the hospital for the doctors to liberately estranged himself from his wife pronounce sentence on the girl in the ad¬ and about her. It did look odd. Why had joining ward. Philip done it? Poor Philip, he was so big By phone she had kept posted as to Es¬ and fine, and he seemed always making mis¬ ther’s progress. Flowers had come daily takes, just as she was always doing. bearing a card on which was the single Vaguely it came to her that perhaps some word: “ Friend.” strange force had linked her destiny with And Esther had wondered about the un¬ that of this brilliant Frenchman, whether known giver. Now she knew. She lifted they would have it so or not. As he said, her arms toward the woman, who dropped they never jarred, were good friends, and on her knees beside Esther’s chair, and perhaps understood each other as no other they were crying happily in each other’s ever had or ever could understand either arms. of them. “Maida, you’re wonderful!” Esther Well, she was through. Nothing mat¬ smiled through her tears after a while. “ I tered. She was just tired and wanted to didn’t recognize you at all. How have you rest. As she had scorned Paul in his weak¬ done it?” ness, so now she scorned herself as she laid “ Happiness!” the woman responded ra¬ her head back and closed her eyes. diantly. “ That is the real miracle-maker. She thought sadly of poor Paul, whose And I’ve been eating and working to get only sin had been that of loving too well, back my looks. Burt’s out there,” she said and whose ship of life had been wrecked by shyly. “ He hid behind the door so I could his own indulgence. come in alone. Oh, Burt!” she called. Esther closed her eyes. When she He fairly bounded into the room. opened them a tall young woman stood in “Hello, kid!” he shouted at Esther. her doorway. “ Some girly, isn’t she?” He grabbed Es- THE DEVIL’S RIDDLE. 337

ther’s hand, but his eyes clung hungrily to duction next year,” broke in Burt, unable Maida. It was as if he could not take them to keep quiet any longer. “ I went up to off her even to look at an old friend. my old man—you see, I’ve got a real show “ Honestly, you don’t look a day over now, kid—and I says to him, ‘ See here, my twenty-five,” Esther said to her. wife—’ ” “ Don’t I, truly?” Maida laughed hap- “ Your wife?” Esther interrupted. pily. Burt flushed and looked down and “ Truly. You’re so willowy, and yet not picked at his finger-nails. at all skinny.” “ You see, kid,” he stammered. “ Well, “ You knpw I’m not really old, anyhow,” the fact is, I only said I was married to Maida protested. “ Trouble and drugs Belle. made me look so. I’ve gone back now to “ Yep,” he grinned a little sheepishly. pick up my lost youth; and youi dear— “ We went before Judge Colvin, and—” honestly, those short red curls of yours “ We had been married by the church,” make you look like a beautiful boy. I pin Maida broke in, “ but I was about crazy, my hair back and wear a braid. It isn’t and I got a divorce, so we had to go before over six inches long. You see, I cut off the the judge to get it patched up again.” peroxid.” Esther was wondering about Belle when Burt sat uninvited, ignored by the wo¬ Maida mentioned her. She wasn’t alto¬ men while they discussed each other’s gether responsible for the havoc she had beauty, but he was obviously and flagrant¬ brought to Esther. She was under the in¬ ly happy. fluence of others and—well, she was a little “ Your skin is like—like—not a sea- “ off.” shell,” Maida floundered; “ it’s not pink “ That’s my punishment,” Maida said enough. I know! A pearl.” sadly. “ When I heard how she was I “ Yours is the sea-shell,” Esther said. went and got her. She was in such an aw¬ “ But tell me, how did you ever—” ful state.” There were tears in her large “ Cut the drugs. You remember that blue eyes. “ But she is better—much bet¬ night when—” ter,” Maida went on. “ I’ve done what I “ Yes.” N could for her.” “ Well, I didn’t have any money and I Sam and the solemn-eyed Lillie joined joined a tent show. We worked up into the the party. Dakotas. It took me nearly three months “ This is my reception day,” cried Es¬ to get my little nest-egg laid by; then I ther with a pathetic little attempt at gaiety. went to Sun River Valley, and took your The while her heart cried: “ Where is my letter to Sam.” man?” “ Tell me all about it,” Esther said. Sam and Lillie, however, were both And Maida told in detail of the wonder wretchedly anxious to get something said. of her cure. And every word of praise for At last Sam got it out. the doctor tore at Esther’s heart. “ Me ’n’ Lillie here has decided to git “ After I’d put on a little more flesh I hitched. She can’t stand this here city no came back to New York and got work job¬ way at all, an’ I’m so blamed lonesome— bing around town,” Maida went on. “ I an’, well, her ma put hit in our heads, so was in no hurry to find Burt, on account we jest naturally decided to do her.” of my looks. We women are so vain, and “ Oh, Sam! I’m so glad,” Esther said. I figured if I hadn’t lost him in all these “ I told her all about lovin’ Sam years I wasn’t likely to now. I was back- looked around sheepishly and finished— stage in Brooklyn one night when the lead¬ “ somebody else an’ she said she allowed ing woman got temperamental and walked I sort of worshiped—somebody else an’ I out with her make-up on. The bill was could love her—I mean I could love Lillie ‘ The Two Orphans.’ I had played the jest the same ’cause-she ain’t hankerin’ to part, so I went on and made good.” be worshiped nohow.” “ And she’s signed for a part with a pro- Lillie looked shyly at Sam’s hearers. 11 Argosy ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

There were joyous congratulations all “ What is settled?” she asked, her voice around. Ma came in with cake and lemon¬ shaking, her eyes alight. ade to make it a real celebration. She “ Why, that offer from St. Anne’s Hos¬ talked voluminously the while. pital,” he replied, in evident surprise at her It tras after the little party had broken question. “ Don’t you know I told you up that Philip came in. yesterday about an offer I had from a hos¬ “ I want to say good-by,” he said in his pital in Philadelphia, and that I would go old, impulsive way. over to-day?” “ Good-by?” Esther repeated. “ Where “ I forgot,” she said faintly. are you going?” He went and sat beside her. “ I didn’t “ I’m going to France,” he said. wake you because you needed the rest, and Then he told her the particulars of that I thought you would know where-I was.” stormy interview with his lawyers on his “I know now,” she smiled. return from Boston, and for which cause And Philip, with a glad light in his eyes, his mother-in-law had not tried to effect rose to go. the reconciliation begun by Aline’s with¬ “ You’ve, found it, little friend,” he said, drawal of suit. taking her hand, “ and you will appreciate Having definitely decided that too much and keep it because it has come to you money was at the bottom of all his troub¬ through suffering. Everything is relative. les, he had, true to form, in his quick, de¬ How can any man know when he has hap¬ cisive way, divested himself, with supreme piness, if he has had no suffering to mea¬ indifference, of his entire fortune. Part of sure it by?” it he had given toward the restoration of “ Just so,” smiled Barnes. “ How can Belgium, part of it sent munitions to his anybody know the comfort of being with¬ own native France, and part to the land of out a headache till he has had one?” his adoption, at that time just on the point Philip took Esther’s hand in good-by. of entering the war, for the purpose of Barnes did.not look at them. He under¬ building airplanes. He had also made ap¬ stood, as man seldom can, such a friend¬ plication to enter the French aviation corps. ship. Of a race that is governed by its emo¬ After Philip was gone, Barnes went over tions, patriotic to the exclusion of self, his and took her on his lap. action was eminently characteristic. Then time stood still. Sight, sound, Whether added to,these was a desire to thought, were not. The world, the uni¬ mete out justice to the woman whose sel¬ verse, were not. fishness had brought death and ruin to his Ma Frank, panting up the stairs, friends and himself, no one knew; but cer¬ stopped as her eyes reached the level of Es¬ tain it is that when Mrs. Grenville asked ther’s half-opened door. for a wife’s portion she could not get it “My goodness gracious!” she gasped. for the very simple reason that her husband “ It’s as good as a movie, which they ought had nothing to divide. to close that door, what with losing one However that may be, he had achieved finansee an’ gettin’ another one, all in the a rarely brilliant stroke—one that few men same breath, it’s plumb romantic an’ just have the courage to achieve; he had magic which I do believe in.” And she thrown off the yoke that had been the hobbled softly back down the stairs. cause of his boredom, and in so doing had Esther closed her eyes, and he seemed brought into his life aim and interest, with¬ content to let her do so. Presently she out which life is an arid, monotonous stirred. desert, though its sands be gold. “ Jim, I ought not to marry you,” she “ Hello, Grenville!” came a hearty voice murmured. from the doorway. They turned with a “ How’s that?” start to see Barnes smiling at them. “ You went off and left me to marry Paul “ Well, dear, it’s all settled,” he said to Evers—” Esther as he came into the room. “ You sent me.” THE WILD WOMAN. 339

“ But you shouldn’t have let me.” “ Yes—dearest?” He looked at her in amazement. “ I’ve made a great scientific discovery.” “ I couldn’t take you against^ your will.” “What?” “ But it wouldn’t have been against my “ Hell and heaven are both in New will. I almost died when you left me.” York. Hell is richly curtained, and has “ Well, how was I to know that?” lion and leopard skins and statues and pic¬ “ You should have. I don’t like a man tures all about. Heaven is a rather garish who gives up too easily.” room, with a red carpet and a lot of cheap Dr. Barnes’s masculine mind struggled furniture.” with this a moment, then he burst out “ So have I made a discovery,” Esther laughing. “ More woman stuff,” he said. said softly. “ Well, anyway, I’m not going to let you “ What is it?” get away from me this time.” “ That, search as she may, the world, Time again stood still. for a woman, narrows down to her man— “ Sweetheart,” he whispered eventually. mid is within his heart—and hers.” (The End.)

I. “ Ee-ee-ee—yah! Hup!” The perfectly formed bodies swung out and down; a neat THE beautiful, pink-clad bodies of six somersault landed each on its feet, and they acrobats teetered dangerously upon stood there, smiling and bowing to an ap¬ the Wagneresque shoulders and arms plauding sea of faces and hands. The cur¬ of Mrs. Jiminez, favorably known in pri¬ tain went down. vate life as Mamie Boyle, the strong wo¬ They took as many curtain calls as the man of the Gymnastic Jiminez Troupe, law allowed. When Jimin0" was finally as¬ eight, count ’em, eight. A flushed, un¬ sured that not a palm in the house was troubled footlight smile was on her counte¬ stirring, they turned toward their dressing- nance, and her feet, clad in soft shoes, were rooms. firmly planted on the firmer shoulders of He and Mamie Boyle paused outside of Rodriguez Jiminez, the strongest man in the door of her dressing-room, where they vaudeville (see booking notices). made a pair that might well have warranted They swayed until it was seen that they a second glance from anybody. He was could not recover, and sharply, out over the tall and wonderfully formed, but no taller footlights, went the staccato cry of the nor any better formed than was she. Under acrobats just before the final somersault: their pink fleshings, even in repose, during 340 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

the ordinary gestures of conversation, their ference in standards. The standards of muscles slid and glided like smooth, silent Mamie Boyle and Rodriguez Jiminez, snakes. His face was that of a Gallic god, though sharply defined to each, were widely with its fine complexion and pointed, up¬ divergent. It was enough for the hot- turned mustache, and hers the face of a blooded Jiminez that this woman had con¬ Gaelic goddess translated into Greek. sented to be his wife—she belonged to him He looked at her a little dubiously as henceforth. Either a woman wras his love, they stood there outside of the green door. or she was to him no more than any casual “ I have desirings you should mak’ din¬ lamp-post on any casual side street. He ings weet me thees night,” he ventured. assumed toward her all the authority and Her fine face was suffused with the quick dictatorship that one must never, under any color of anger. circumstances, assume toward any Irish “ Why, you poor, acrobatic simp,” she girl. She was his—and there were for her snapped at him wrathfully, “ I told you no other mafe creatures on this earth. once before I would not ‘ mak’ dinings weet Mamie Boyle, as has been said, was Irish. you ’ to-night.” This should explain a great deal. It was He flushed. “ You will not mak’ dinings not the substance of Jiminez’s attitude to¬ among me for reasons that I are a seemp ward her that angered her—it was the man¬ of acrobatics—eet ees then that perhapsly ner of it. She would not have minded so eet ees of preference unto you to mingle much being wooed and won by storm, and among seemps of tamers of tame animals?” being kept constant by a reign of love- he asked courteously, twirling his mustache. terrorism. It was the way he assumed to¬ “ An animal tamer can be a gentleman, ward her, as though she were a chattel, at least,” she said pointedly, and Jiminez something that had once said ‘ yes ’ and flushed again. would thenceforth stay put. “ You are belongings of me,” he said Mamie had no intention of staying put. heatedly. There are no half-measure with No true woman has. A woman must be the hot, Gallic blood. When a woman is wooed many times after she is won, and it his, she is his, and that is all there is to it. was this elementary bit of psychology that She tossed her fine head and the daggers eluded him. If he had not been so nastily flashed. “ We are not married yet, Mister arbitrary and imperious in the matter, it is Jiminez. You foreigners who think a wo¬ very probable that she would never have man belongs to you had better snap out troubled to take up with Tony Warden at of it—women don’t belong to any one in all—she had gone out to eat with him once, this man’s country.” when Jiminez could not come, for some rea¬ “Eeet ees better, perhapsly,” he per¬ son, and she had not wanted to go alone. sisted, “ that you should mak’ informings to Jiminez made such a fuss about it that she the tamer of tame lions that it shall yet, went again, out of sheer Irish perversity. for me, be necessario to strike him weeth a He was also unspeakably annoyed be¬ hardness of such that hees ideas weel be cause he never got anywhere with her in a separate’ from hees habeets—-ees eet not quarrel—she always had the last word, and so?” it always silenced him. “ No, eet ees not so,” she mimicked, Now, the truth of the matter is that they crinkling up her nose in comic imitation of were both wrong, and as they really cared a him. “You keep your lunch-hooks offen great deal for each other, the more wrong Mr. Warden, or it will be ‘ necessario ’ for they were the more they quarreled. So me to slip you something you won’t forget that night Tony Warden and Mamie Boyle in a hurry.” She glanced significantly at ate together—and Jiminez chewed his black the solitaire ring on her engagement finger, mustache and nursed a man’s-sized grouch. and he understood. She burst through the II. green dressing-room door, and it banged in his angry face. “ Miss Jiminez ” — and Tony Warden The trouble between them was the dif¬ smiled at Mamie insinuatingly—“ I never THE WILD WOMAN. 341

could make out why you hang out with that He gazed down at her sardonically. “ So, English-assassinating dago.” He paused eet ees that now travel you weet’ half-por¬ tentatively, and toyed with a long string tions of tamers of seeck lions, eh?” he of spaghetti on the end of a meditative fork. smiled at her genially, mockingly. She “ He is not a dago, Mr. Warden,” she looked up at him and smiled rosily—that said, icily. “ His blood is pure Castilian— was for die audience, which was breathless and, say, go a little easy on that Jiminez —and if the four Jiminezes who depended stuff—my name is Mamie Boyle to you and upon her strength could have seen what was to every one else. Get me?” she inquired. in her eyes they would have known how “■ Yep,” he smiled admiringly. “ Gee, close they came to landing on the stage in you look great when you’re mad!” She nothing, flat. smiled—what woman can help smiling at a He continued: “ Some day shall I take compliment, especially if two-twelfths of a him apart, that I may see what mak’ heem dozen dimples are placed alluringly, one on go, no?” He smiled at her again. She each side of her Grecian face. He smiled looked up at him in impotent rage, and her back at her, and their comradeship was lips smiled genially. again established. “ Ah, that so brave queller of animals He went on: “ And as for the guy with what they are debeelitated, homeseeck, per- the pure castile so—” hapsjy—” and so on and so on for the full “ Castilian!” she corrected him. period of their stay in the wings. And he “ Castilian—I knew it was some kind of got the last word, with never a reply—but soap — blood, anything you say goes, the Jiminez troupe came closer to broken Marne.” bones and a busted act on that day than in She smiled at him again. It had come many a day. to her that she had better not antagonize He was very pleased with himself, and Warden if she intended to use him to irri¬ back of the scenes he sauntered past her, tate Jiminez. He, of course, did not know lightly trilling a little tune: he was being used, and took unto himself her smile as a tribute to his personality. “ I have no desirings of recovery, I have no desirings of recovery, It was several days after this that the For I love a so-beautiful nurse! I love a—” real break occurred between her and Jim¬ inez. They had had several spats over the “Say!” She brought him up with a matter, in which Jiminez had always been jump, and he bit off his song in the middle. a close runner-up for first place, but never “ You weesh to mak’ conversings weet’ quite made it. She always managed to me, Mamie?” he asked politely. edge in a little ahead to the wire—the last “ No! I don’t want no conversation. I word was always hers, and it usually stung. want to tell you something. You talk so But one day he slipped it to her. much about Mr. Warden having no nerve, They were performing one of their best and all that sort of stuff, but I don’t see stunts. High up in the wings swayed a you pulling no Croix de Guerre stuff around trapeze. From this trapeze, head down¬ here. And, furthermore, Mister Jiminez, I ward, hung Jiminez, with a strong tooth- don’t think I ever will, either. No man strap in his hands. From this strap hung who can take such a mean advantage of a Mamie Boyle, depending therefrom solely woman as to bawl her out when she has no by her strong white teeth, and from her chanst of opening her mouth to defend her¬ arms and legs hung four members of the self, can possibly l\ave any more backbone Gymnastic Jiminez Troupe. than a banana. This was the moment Jiminez seized to “ And I want to tell you something else,” give her a pretty and artistic young bawling she continued, thoroughly maddened, “ and out—a moment when she could not reply that is, that if you ever venture to lay the and had to take it standing up, so to speak. weight of your finger on Mr. Warden, I’ll It is a maddening thing to do to a woman, slam you so hard that three minutes later not to give her a chance to answer. you will have been dead a year. I’m 342 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

through with you,” she panted. “ I belong nobody had collected. The lion was small to Mamie Boyle, and no one else.” i —almost ridiculously small—and fierce out She tore off the ring from her finger and of all decent proportion to his size. He was handed it to him. He took it mechanically, kept on the verge of starvation, which dazed. He had no idea things would get so didn’t help his temper much, but added a out of hand. great deal to his stage value. That was the As she went into her dressing-room she five hundred dollars she' wanted him to turned and added irrelevantly: “ I don’t collect. see you trying to collect no five hundred Yellow, was he? Banana-backed, eh? from Tony Warden.” For four days Jiminez brooded in his dress¬ The door slammed, and he stood there, ing-room, and on the fifth day a resolve stupidly holding a magnificent diamond came to him. solitaire in his great ham of a hand. III. You see, they were both too much in love and too obstinate to see the reasonable or They were at Noli’s, in New Haven, at humorous side of anything. The breach be¬ the time. Their booking had carried them tween them had started with a very small together for some weeks—they were booked thing, but it was large to them—a postage from the same office, Warden and Jiminez. stamp is small until you place it in front of In single grandeur, on the stage, rested your eyes; then it shuts out your world. the lion, safely behind the stout iron bars And these two had placed postage stamps of a comfortably strong cage. Warden, a in front of_ their eyes until their collective dapper little man, stepped to the front cen¬ world was entirely cut off—meaning each ter to address the audience, and the lion other. arose and commenced to walk to and fro, Mamie did not foregather with anybody lashing his tail wrathfully. during the next few days, least of all Tony “ Now, laideez and gen’lemen,” he bally- Warden. She cut him off entirely—he was hooed, “ we present for your careful con¬ through, so far as she was concerned. And sideration the king—the emperor, rather— Jiminez, when not on the stage, brooded in of the untracked wilds of the African jungle, his dressing-room or in his room at the . brought here to this fair city at tremenjous hotel. eggspense, accompanied by untold dangers. He lived over every word that they had This monnirk of the wilds, laideez and had together—heard again ringing in his gen’lemen, has never been tamed ”—the ears every sentence—particularly the last: “ monnirk ” lashed his tail more rapidly and “ I don’t see you trying to collect no five growled viciously as he looked out over the hundred from Tony Warden.” That was audience, a small figure contemptuously to simply a slap at his courage delivered by defy so vast a sea of faces—“ and if there Mamie in the heat of anger (she knew he are any among you who have any aspira¬ was afraid of nothing under the stars), and tions in the way of lion-taming, they are the more he thought of it the angrier he got. invited to step forward now. The taunt had to do with Warden’s ani¬ “ Five hunderd dollars, laideez and gen¬ mal act. As an added feature, in addition ’lemen, five hunderd hones’-t’-Gawd dollars to his regular animal act, he had a small, will be paid to any man, woman or child very fierce lion that had never been tamed. who can accomplish what the crowned They said it was a man-eater, and perhaps heads of Yurrop have failed to accomplish. it was; the fact of the matter was, it was There _are no limitations on this offer, no¬ very intractable, and it was a dangerous body is barred, regardless of color or de¬ matter to enter the cage where this lion was nomination. And, remember,” he added confined, or, for that matter, to pass near significantly, glancing back at his emperor the cage within reach of the paws. of the wilds, “ the management assumes no There was a reward of five hundred dol¬ responsibility—it is understood that you do lars to any one in the audience who would everything at your own risk.” undertake to tame the animal—and, so far, He paused and stepped aside, waiting THE WILD 'WOMAN.

pointedly for the would-be lion-tamers. That was enough for the beast, infuriated Nobody made a move toward the stage. by this violation of his kingly privacy. “ Does no one need five hunderd of our Like a streak of vivified lightning he best dollars,” he taunted. “ Come up— leaped, striking Jiminez at the shoulder. come up—all you have to do is tame him— Thrown off his balance Jiminez fell. As he it’s like getting money from home.” The fell his head struck the steel hinge of the house snickered. door. A dead silence went through the There was a craping of necks and a scat¬ house as the horrified audience saw what tering of applause as the colossal figure of had happened. Rodriguez Jiminez, in his fleshings, came Dazed by the impact of his head on the forward to the center of the stage from the steel hinge, Jiminez was prone and motion-' wings. Tony Warden turned to him and less on the floor of the cage, with the now smiled. thoroughly enraged beast above him. A “ I possess desirings for tamings of wild broad streak of red began to show through emperor,” Opened Jiminez grandiloquently, the torn shoulder of his pink tights. waving his hand lightly toward the vicious A woman in the audience shrieked. beast. The stage hands with the prods rushed “ Stay away, Jiminez,” said Warden forward, but there was one who was under his breath, “ this beast is a killer.” quicker. The lion raised his head for an “ Go to it, kid!” came from the gallery. instant and looked out over the audience. “ I have wishes to mingle among this In that instant Mamie Boyle, red with half-portion monarch,” he said loudly this honest Gaelic anger, burst through the door. time, so all the house could hear. That Before the giant cat had a chance to re¬ was no place to argue, so Warden smiled cover, he was seized in two muscular arms and assented, though he commented to him¬ and thrown the length of the cage, where self on the futility of arguing with fools. he struck the iron bars with a dull crash “ Mr. Jiminez will play with the kitten— that certainly must have shaken more he says,” announced Warden to the house. breath out of him than he would have cared It might be noted that theie was no very to admit. great danger; stage hands with long prods Instantly Mamie picked up the bat, were conveniently stationed to drive of the which fortunately lay ready to her hand. beast if he got the upper hand, but there The lion leaped. Mamie stepped aside, and was seldom any use for their services, as it Hans Wagner’s powerful muscles never was rare for any one to accept the chal¬ acted in more perfect unison than Mamie’s, lenge of the lion. as she met the king of beasts square on the “ Jimmy! came a sharp cry to him out nose with the bat, never bothering even to of the wings. He turned and beheld Mamie see that the label was uppermost. A roar Boyle, in her pink fleshings, just as she had of wounded rage and surprise came from rushed out of her dressing-room when she the lion as he leaped again, frantic from heard what was happening on the stage. the pain of his broken nose. She was making frantic motions to him to Mamie knocked a home-run again. “ Ye keep away from the lion. He smiled sar¬ dhir-r-rty baste!” she panted, lapsing into castically and shook his head. her brogue, which she did when really ex¬ Warden stepped to the cage and opened cited. “ Oill larn ye t’ attact a unpertected the door tentatively, and Jiminez sidled in ackerbat.” Bang! Bang again! Jiminez quickly. The door Clanged behind him. was sitting up now. The lion crouched in the opposite comer, “ That certainly are good chastisings, switching his tail viciously as he crouched. heart of my heart,” he encouraged weakly. “ Jimmy! ” came a frenzied cry to him The lion by this time was in full flight, again. “ Take this with you,” and a base¬ crouching in the corners and endeavoring ball bat which she had thrown through the ever to keep on the opposite side of the bars clanged on the floor. He turned his cage from this avenging devil of a woman. head to look at her for a brief moment. She followed him around excitedly, her war- 344 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

club falling and rising regularly, in time to away, to sit up all night with a very sick her good Irish imprecations. The house emperor of the trackless jungles. was in pandemonium. A bell rang and the curtain fell. A tentative, timid knock came at the dressing-room door of Jiminez. “ That’ll cost' you just five hundred “ Enter, then,” he boomed. bucks, Mister Warden,” said Mamie Boyle. Mamie came in. “ Cost me? What for?” he echoed. Jiminez bounded to his feet and bowed “ For taming your lion, of course,” she to the chair. “ Mak’ reposings thereupon, answered easily, her giant figure towering soul of my soul,” he said. above him. “ That’ll teach you never to She sat down. “ Oh, Jimmy,” she said permit anybody to be alone in a cage with a happily, “ know what? The manager is wild beast again,” she said grimly. She had moving us up to head-line position for the seen the blood of her beloved, and there week—says the town will go crazy over us was anger in her soul. with all the advertising this is going to give .you’re dam’ right! ” he snapped at her. us. And it’s all due to you, Jimmy,” she “ I should never have permitted that poor, went on, “ because you were so brave as to dumb beast to be alone in a cage with you. go into that lion’s cage—” Tamed him, did you? I’ll tell you what “ It are nothings whatever, my own,” he you did,” the little fellow almost shrieked interrupted. “ It are all your accountings, in his mingled rage and grief. “ You ruined sweetest girl what are, because of that so him—that’s what you did. Just plumb splendid batting of one thousand per cent. wrecked him! That lion will never have Dear heart,” he beamed upon her tenderly, any faith in human nature again. Five “ certainly are you much possessed of— hundred dollars fer taming him—why, you how you say—some wallop! I kees the —you—wild woman, you tore up my meal- feetses of you.” ticket, that’s what you did. The lion may “Oh, Jimmy!” she breathed tenderly. get over it, but he’ll never be the same “ Where are those so-sparkling of diamond again. ring,” she laughed in his ear, mimickingly “Tamed him! Oh, hell!” He threw up (her arm was around his neck—and the his hands in despair and walked rapidly rest of this is hardly any of your affair).

yo\in 9 Royce Brier

THE boy dressed in the blue of the old He was a tall boy, and clean of limb, army stood for a long moment gazing but he was distressingly emaciated. Blue at the interior of the La Salle Street veins stood out on his hands as on the Station, as one might look fondly on the hands of an old lady, and his face was pasty scenes of a childhood home. white, except for a highly flushed spot at FOUND. 345

the point of each cheek-bone. In his gray And then the boy suddenly dropped into eyes burned the fires of fever. an old hair-cloth chair which stood beside Despite till this, ecstasy was evident on the table. He bent over the table, laying the boy’s countenance. his head on his arms, the lavender note fall¬ Chicago! en from nerveless, outstretched fingers. For At length he hailed a cab, and discount¬ hours he did not stir under the cold, white ing the plodding leisure of the horse-drawn flame of the gaslight, nor did he make a vehicles of those days, was soon up-town. sound. There, while he awaited a trolley-car, the same warm ecstasy gripped his heart. The The man was sitting in the Palm Court hurrying thousands of State Street wrapped of the hotel, partaking of a late dinner. him in the lure of his city. Eagerly he In strange dissimilarity to the shabby lit¬ watched for his car, the same car that had tle room of the past was the glittering Palm countless times whirled him from the down¬ Court. Instead of imitation oak, sleek town office to his home. brown mahogany; instead of hair-cloth, Home! blue tapestry cushions, sensuous in their How he counted the streets—streets that deepness; instead of a wan gas flame, vast he knew by heart. And each block seemed chandeliers, bedazzling with their myriad a mile, each quarter of an hour an era. The electrics. All of this in a score of years. old conductor was gone from the car. The man was one to be distinguished in “ I understand he died in Cuba,” said any gathering of men. Standing, he would the .new conductor to the boy’s query. have been tall, and without moving there “ San Juan.” clung about him the air of litheness of a “ I almost died in Cuba,” returned the beast of prey. His hair was white, though boy with a wan smile. “ But not San Juan perhaps prematurely so, for he appeared —malaria.” not above forty years of age. His face “ These Lake Michigan breezes and home was lean and gray, his lips thin and straight, cookin’ ’ll fix you up,” said the other in bespeaking an unshakable will. But his kindly sympathy. eyes—they were the glittering cold eyes of Through the gathering dusk of the early the panther, and in them lived a remorse¬ evening the boy walked slowly up his front less something which could barely be walk. The combination of rheumatic pains sensed, much less can it be described. and excitement almost prevented his getting Twice the man answered the singsong up the front steps of the tiny porch. The voice of a bell-boy, calling his name: “ Mr. house was dark, but that was not unusual. Hobart—Mr. Hobart—Mr. John Hobart!” The front door was locked, but no one had When the man answered his voice was known of his home-coming. With a key he strange by contrast, a cold, leashed thing, admitted himself. The house was cold. minding of the curt clink of steel on steel. Suddenly an impalpable sense of things At length John Hobart arose and left the amiss swept over him like a chill. He re¬ Palm Court. Summoning a taxicab, he was membered that there had been newspapers swirled down-town, and alighted on a on the front porch. He stepped into the crowded corner. Then he made his way living-room of his home. Dust was deep west, walking swiftly, block by block com¬ on the little imitation-oak center table. In ing into a meaner portion of the city. the center of the table lay a note. The Finally reaching a dingy house choked boy held a match to the gas light. between two other dingy houses, John Ho¬ He looked at the lavender note-paper for bart entered and mounted a dark stairway. a long time. Doubtless he read the note a The odor of cooking food hung in the air score of times. He. stood moveless, his face with the oppressiveness of an anesthetic. untouched by any emotion. The same high With a key that rattled ominously in the flush burned at the points of his cheek¬ lock, thejman admitted himself to a shoddy bones. The same fires of fever burned in little room, papered hideously, and lighted his gray eyes. by the sickly flame of a gas-jet. 346 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

In a few moments the man had changed The light in one of the general offices his dress suit for clothing of uncertain cut John Hobart liked not at all, for in certain and color. A; soft felt hat covered his eyes circumstance it might perforce mean delay, without seeming to do so. From the top and the burglar knew full well that the drawer of a bureau he took an automatic, “ bulls and dicks ” have sharper eyes at a jimmy, and a black silk handkerchief. two in the morning than they do when the Gaining the street, he walked swiftly in theater crowds of ten and eleven flood the the direction of down-town. A mist had city’s streets. swept up from the waters of the bay. The Noiselessly John Hobart slipped between man passed many with ulsters buttoned the ghostly counters, pausing now and close.about their throats. Long shafts of again as though to listen. Suddenly he light from motor headlights swung to and melted into a shadow, swallowed complete¬ fro in the shrouded streets. Far out over ly. From half a block away-on the first the city was the dull orange glow of re¬ floor there came to him the sound of a flected light. Somewhere a clock chimed closing door. nine times. John Hobart crouched in the blackness The man arrived in a busy part of the beside a counter. Soon he heard the creak¬ city; in fact, he was but three blocks dis¬ ing of stairs under heavy footsteps, then tant from the hotel where an hour before the hollow echo of those steps scarce a rod he had sat in the quiet of the great Palm from him. Almost he could reach out and Court and taken a late dinner. touch the intruder, a big man who walked John Hobart stood on a curb for some stealthily down the main aisle approaching time, gazing at the huge building on the the general offices. opposite side of the street. In the far comer John Hobart continued his silent march of the building was a light—and the man toward the glass partition. Rounding a frowned. But obstacles, to John Hobart, high stock shelf he came upon a . strange were but incentives to their overcoming, scene. It was a scene such as one may and the light in the window of the huge encounter daily at the movies, and in ac¬ building did not long deter him. tual life not at all. He walked along the side of the build¬ Facing one another across a massive oak¬ ing, then without so much as a glance be¬ en table stood a man and a girl. The bur¬ hind him turned into a dark alley. With glar could only judge the man from the the agility of an acrobat he swung up on pumpkinlike head which rested upon his the fire-escape, and scaling it, reached the shoulders, and the glint of a diamond from fourth floor. his pudgy fingers. The girl was facing in It was but a matter of minutes until he the direction of the burglar, and he saw had pried open a fire door. From the edge that the beauty of her face was distorted of the fire-escape he peered for a moment by a look of abject terror. into the gloomy abyss of the alley; then John Hobart listened intently: he was engulfed in the blackness of the big “ —Night watchman—sent home—back building. for three hours—don’t be a fool—” The place that the man purposed to rob Suddenly the burglar saw the girl make was the Mammoth Department Store. a quick movement, as though to reach the Along one end of the fourth floor was a door, but the man seized her in his arms. glass partition, shutting off the general of¬ She struggled futilely, like a spent bird bat¬ fices. Behind that glass partition there was tling a gale. a safe which John Hobart knew contained John Hobart was no sickly sentimental¬ money. ist, nor was he prone to mock-heroics. The Now, John. Hobart was no small crim¬ petty individual problems of these two be¬ inal, and it boots little where he gained the fore him were no concern of his, albeit their knowledge that the safe held treasure. Suf¬ common problem was his concern were they fice it to say that such knowledge on his permitted to cause a tumult. John Hobart part reasonably argued its truth. did not relish the calling out of the reserves. FOUND. 347

Swiftly yet silently he ran the length of “ C’m’on,” he said finally to the girl. the glass partition — and threw a master Together, they made their way between switch. With eery suddenness the scuffling the high-piled counters. Reaching the in the offices ceased. The burglar heard the ground floor, the burglar jimmied open a drawn shade of the window facing the fire door at the far end of the alley from street being raised, doubtless for the pur¬ the one where he had entered. pose of observing whether or not lights The girl was amazed at the abrupt across the street were burning. change in the burglar’s mood, and his mode All that could be heard were the mut¬ of speech. tered curses of the man and the sobbing of “ My dear young lady,” he said, “ it was the girl. Deliberately the burglar covered indeed thoughtful of your employer—I take his face below the eyes with the black silk it that he is your employer—to send the handkerchief. night watchman out to his home. Should “ Open the door!” commanded John Ho¬ you see the gentleman to-morrow—though bart abruptly, and in a cold and level voice. you doubtless will not after this evening’s A key grated in the lock. experience—convey to him, if you please, Again came the cold, calculated voice of my gratitude.” the burglar, incisive, brooking no dalliance. As the door swung open the burglar’s “ Go stand against the dull light of that voice became one of harsh, cold irony. alley window—the woman, too! ” “ I would advise,” he said, “ that you- A large, dark form and a smaller one refrain from acquainting ’ the first police¬ were etched against the light of the desig¬ man you encounter with the fact that there nated window. With a lightning movement is some one in this building.” the burglar was within the glass partition. “ Oh! After you helped me escape There was no sound save heavy breathing. that—that—” John Hobart’s voice cut the gloom, and. John Hobart shut the door on her words he was not prolix in his warning: and returned to the office on the fourth “ Don’t move—don’t make a mistake.” floor. A few minutes later he was on the Utilizing a pencil flash lamp which gave street. off but a dim, circular glow of light, the A dense fog smothered the city. burglar set to work on the safe. Scarce had The following morning, over grapefruit, he worked a dozen seconds when the girl bacon and eggs, John Hobart stared in con¬ commenced afresh to sob. sternation at his newspaper: “Here! Lay .off that!” John Hobart snarled, whirling round in the gloom and JAMES BARRETT MURDERED IN HIS taking a step toward the window where the OFFICE. two stood. “ This ain’t a vaudeville skit.” The girl did not cease sobbing. Night Watchman Discovers Body of Mammoth Store Superintendent—His Private Sec¬ “You little devil, you! I can’t hear retary Held—Admits Being in Store, these bolts. I’ll take you out of here when But Denies Knowledge of Crime. I go, if you’ll shut up.” At that the girl quieted, and the burglar John Hobart’s consternation lay not in continued.his labors for half of an hour. the printed knowledge that James Barrett The big doors swung open. was dead. He himself had done away with It was the swinging open of the big doors the merchant in much the same spirit that that caused the man silhouetted against the one might do away with a rattlesnake. Dis¬ light of the alley window to make a false counting the fact that the burglar was a move. John Hobart caught the m^n dean- trespasser and the merchant not, there had ly on the point of the jaw, and he collapsed been some slight excuse. Upon the bur¬ like a punctured toy balloon. The burglar glar’s returning to the office, the merchant, said npt a word, but rifled the safe. Then come from his unconsciousness, had leaped he swung the do«rs shut, and looked about upon him, and had paid for his foolhardi¬ Him. ness with his life. ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

But John Hobart was overwhelmed with from the safe of James Barrett’s office. Blit consternation — that Mary Breen should fool or superman, John Hobart’s self-assur¬ have been discovered in connection with the ance pursued its even tenor. crime at all. And as he read on, John Ho¬ On the third day of the trial John Ho¬ bart cursed himself with a silent curse, rev¬ bart took a seat in the front row. Through eled in self-hatred. The girl’s tam-o’-shan- impersonal eyes he gazed on the mental ter had been discovered in the office by the suffering of the girl as she went through night watchman. a cross-examination. Without emotion he He, John Hobart, to whom the most in¬ saw her collapse at its end. considerable detail had ever loomed large, Shortly the counsel for the defense whose work had heretofore been free from spoke: any flaw—he had been guilty of an over- “ Your "Honor, and Gentlemen of the ' sight worthy of the rawest amateur. Be¬ Jury: A peculiar fact has arisen in con¬ yond measure he was disgusted with him¬ nection with this crime, establishing a point self. which cannot but have effect upon your Of course, he could do nothing for the verdict.” girl. It was unfortunate. It was one of John Hobart knew that the moment had those untoward incidents of life which are come, and he gloried in the sensation regrettable but irreparable, such as the run¬ which was about to occur — the murmur ning down of a little child with a motor¬ that would go. through the audience—the car. tumult as the spectators arose to their feet. It was but natural that John Hobart “ It matters not,” went on the counsel for should attend the trial of Mary Breen. But the defense, “ in what manner I gained the make no mistake. He was not “ drawn ” knowledge I am about to impart to you. to the trial as are some criminals in like I will produce the evidence of its truth.” circumstance. There was nothing of the There was the absolute quietude of ex¬ craven in John Hobart’s nature. More¬ pectancy in the court-room. over, his confidence in self amounted to a “ I propose to prove to-you, gentlemen mania, and he had no slightest fear of de¬ of the jury, that this James Barrett, this tection. He was interested in the fate of man of unblemished repute, this man of Mary Breen, and he attended her trial. high place, was once guilty of one of the That was all. most despicable crimes of which—” From the first he was aware that there “ I object! Your honor, I object!” This was no hope for the girl. The circumstan¬ from the prosecuting attorney. tial evidence was overwhelming. There was “ Objections overruled,” growled the her tam-o’-shanter. She had been absent magistrate. from her boarding-house, and had returned The bare trace of the shadow of a smile later in the evening in a state of great agi¬ touched the lips of John Hobart. tation. “ I propose to prove to you that James There was but one thing which, in the Barrett, through the honeyed sweetness of light of what John Hobart knew of the his words a score of years ago, stole the crime, might save her—the presence of a wife of a young man, a malaria-stricken burglar on the night of the murder. But soldier in Cuba, gone to succor the weak, apprehending the burglar was another mat¬ gone to fight for his country—” ter altogether, and John Hobart smiled at His words trailed off, lost in the cry of the absurdity of the thought. another. A terrible figure had arisen from John Hobart admired the girl’s attorney a front seat. The spectators stood aghast. for his astuteness in saving the burglar sen¬ “ I did it! ” screamed John Hobart. “ I sation for the final day of the trial. Ap¬ killed James Barrett. I was the soldier in parently this lawyer was no fool, for he Cuba. I’m glad I killed him. God! I’m had accomplished the seemingly impossible glad!” in suppressing all general knowledge that Abruptly John Hobart slouched into his several thousand dollars had been missing seat. Tke L^°£=5ook C~YSy tkevl) Editor HAVE you ever taken the trouble to look about among your friends and acquain¬ tances to note what qualities in them seem to make for the success or failure they have achieved in life? Do those who have reached the top appear very different in temperament and disposition from those who only just manage to keep the wolf from the door? Do they talk more or less? A friend of mine maintains that the man who says little is more likely to make his mark in the world than the one whose tongue is constantly wagging. For my part, I have a theory that the refusal to be discouraged by failure is a big asset in arriving at success. There’s F. W. Woolworth just dead, worth sixty-five millions. His first five-and-ten-cent store, opened in Utica on Washington’s Birthday in 1879, was a failure; but, undismayed, young Woolworth proceeded to open another in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, which won out. And there are countless other parallel instances, not only in trade, but in-the professions as well. In this connection I am reminded of a humorous remark by the well-known essayist, Richard Le Gallienne, who, on being queried as to the chances for success in authorship, said that only the poor writers refused to be discouraged. Jt The instant that he saw her, he knew her for the one woman for whom he had been waiting; but when, added to unvoiced and unbelievable suspicion, there came the certainty that she was forever unattainable, every atom of his manhood was needed to sustain the blow. “BULLY BESS” BY KATHARINE EGGLESTON Author of “ Little Boss of Big Ben,” “ The Girl in Khaki,” etc. our five-part serial for next week, is a tale of sacrifice and of conflict of forces, crude and noble, unleashed for good or evil at the irresponsible hazard of chance. And at the very moment when there sounds the dull stroke of doom, there enters the finger of Fate, the sword of Destiny, the hand of a Providence, which in an eye-flash, as it were, re¬ makes the world for Martin Van Horn and Bess Wliately. ■.* j* There is nothing emotional about an engine, for instance, a machine may be soul¬ less though perfect; but a man without a soul—what of him? “THE HIGHER STRAIN” BY JOHN FREDERICK Author of “ The Hammer,” etc. our complete novelette for May 31, is an interestingly original answer to this problem. Morgan Bantry had achieved the very pinnacle of intellectual aloofness—he was a 349 350 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Samurai, a superman, a cold and inflexible being of will without heart. So he would have trained Strann, the obscure; but, as in other like cases, the pupil outstripped the master. For an ending unique in fiction, this is positively breath-taking. j* There remains now only a limited period within which stories about drunks can be considered to be up to date. Personally I never cared much for this type of yarn, but confess to having been quite carried away with “ THE WANDERING STEW,” by Roy-W. Hinds, which you will all have the opportunity of reading in next week’s Argosy. It is by no means a burlesque on a serious subject, as so many tales of the sort are, but a veritable gem of its kind. In Norman Springer’s “ BETWEEN CRIBS ” you will find drama against an unusual setting—the engine-room of a cargo- boat crossing the Indian Ocean; while a touching after-the-war episode is capitally set forth by Charles Tenney Jackson in “WHAT’S A FLAT FOOT BETWEEN FRIENDS?” In addition to the foregoing, Raymond S. Spears will be on hand with another of his Mississippi fantasies—“ WINGS OF THE RIVER SPIRIT ”; and other attractive features will fill out an exceptionally alluring number. jt j*

INTENSIFIED SATISFACTION War Run” and “Hiram on the High Seas”? Since The Arcosy and the Railroad Man’s Maga¬ Yellow Grass, Saskatchewan. zine have combined there haven’t been any railroad Last summer I started to read your Railroad stories. Have been reading your magazine for Man’s Magazine, and the first book made me buy some time, and the stories are all fine, but let’s the next, and so on until I thought I couldn’t do have more of the “ rough stuff.” without it, and was more satisfied when it Mrs. C. R. Deturler. changed to be a weekly magazine, and still more when The Argosy and Railroad Man’s Magazine came to be one. There are sure some good stories A TEXAN KEEN ON “ TEXAS in it. Wishing you success in your business. One FEVER ” of your faithful readers, Waco, Texas. Arthur Penner. Enclosed please find renewal of my subscrip¬ tion to The Argosy. I sure could not afford to THE HEIGHT OF PERFECTION miss The Arcosy. I’ve just finished reading the Troy, Missouri. first part of “Texas Fever,” by Charles V. Barney, and think it is a crackerjack. I like most all of I have read The Argosy for about as many the authors, especially Seltzer, E. R. Burroughs years as I can remember reading. I think it is the Zane Grey, and some others. Who wouldn’t? height of perfection in magazines, and always con¬ Seltzer’s “ Riddle Gawne,” “ Square Deal Sander¬ tains some of the best stories to be found in print son,” and “ Slow Burgess ” were great. I like in any magazine. I was unlucky enough to be in Western and Northern stories. a small town this week, where I couldn’t get my Vander Royals. Arcosy, so will have to send for same. If you should happen to«Log this, please use my initials only. C. J. “ CLEAN AND WHOLESOME ” Augusta, Kansas. A FAIRY TALE WINNER Enclosed find renewal to my subscription to Norton, Virginia. The Argosy. As I have said before, The Argosy I cannot praise The Argosy enough. I think it is a grand book, and I cannot say enough in re¬ is just grand. I borrowed a magazine, and the gard to it. It is so clean and wholesome, and the first instalment of “ The Web ” was in it. I have stories are all good. I really did like “ Tessie of bought it at the. news-stand ever since. I read the Rainbow Glen,” and please, Mr. Editor, tell Mr. first two instalments of “ The Listener,” and could S. W. Hopkins to please let us hear from him not get any of the others. I think “ The Web,” again. I also liked “ Troopers Unafraid.” There “ Forbidden Trails,” and “ The Whistlhg Girl ” is always somebody ready to criticise, and I say, are just fine. “ After a Million \pars ” is, I ' if I don’t like a story in The Argosy, I pass it on, think, more like a fairytale. Pearl and they are so few I do not miss them. I am quite sure I do not expect The Argosy to be published in my favor only, as some one else PLEADING FOR THE ROUGH possibly has a different idea than-1. I wanted to take a few minutes of your time STUFF to tell you that I thought the “ Peter the Brazen ” Hammond, Indiana. and the “ Cuthford—Soldier of the Sea ” series are What has become of the good railroad stories great, and I am always glad when C. A. Seltzer that used to appear in the Railroad Man’s Maga¬ or Loring Brent or Achmed Abdullah are back in zine—such stories as “ Lem and I on the Ypres the ranks, and I am always ready for a good old THE LOG-BOOK. 351

Western story. Tell G. W. Ogden to get busy; those foreign-scene stories will suit a majority of one gets tired of waiting for him. Well, here’s your readers best. I like stories where the scene is luck, and I say keep up the good work and ignore based on the founding of our country—stories in the critics, and The Argosy will be a wonderful which the Indian is prominently displayed. Now success. Best wishes. Maurine Baker. that the Indian is very near extinct, people never tire of the exploits of the noble red men. Why not let us have a story scene based on that great hero “ CONTRABAND ” IN ALL-STORY and patriot, General Francis Marion, whose oper¬ WEEKLY IN 1916—$1.20 ations were in the Carolinas during the Revolu¬ tionary War? J. D. Hardin. Midland Park, New Jersey. I have just finished “ Islands of Stone,” and appreciate your kindness for giving me a change. THE NECESSITY OF BEING ON You may give us all the Western tales you like, THE JOB but give us a tale of the North, and I will rank it as good, and perhaps better, than the West. I Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. know a great many Northern readers will stand Enclosed find money order for sixty cents, for by me on this point; so please, Mr. Editor, give us which please send me the back numbers-of The a tale of the North more frequently. Did you Argosy dated January 11, 18, 25, and February 1 ever publish a serial entitled “ Contraband,” and and 8. Having been very ill for some seven how can I obtain it? Wishing The Argosy weeks, the first thing I did on feeling normal was leadership always, C T R to send for The Argosy, but finding I am being left out on some fine serials, I lay aside the later numbers until I catch up to them. ITS READERS ARE In reading the Log-Book I don’t find many Wis¬ consin boosters, but there certainly seem to be THE ARGOSY’S FIRST CARE some readers in Fond du Lac. If you’re not right Detroit, Michigan. on the job at the news-stand when the magazine Through the courtesy of a neighbor I have been comes in, you’re met with a polite, “ Awfully reading a few back numbers of The Argosy. sorry, but we just sold the last Argosy.” I can’t Allow me to congratulate you upon the interesting see why some people can kick on any of the stories. Am taking the magazine, starting with stories. I think the editor knows his business, and the March i number. The description of the his writers as well, when he gets out a magazine three-day feast in the story, “The Hammer,” is like The Argosy every week. Please hurry along wonderful. Your magazine is not half full of my numbers. advertisements. I have dropped two monthly Mrs. E. E. Andrews. magazines on that account—one I had taken for years. Pardon me for taking up your time. I feel I must tell you how delighted I am with The HOW ABOUT THESE MISTAKES, Argosy, published weekly. I am proud to be one OTHER WESTERN READERS? of your large and interesting family. Etna, Wyoming. As I am renewing my subscription to The Argosy I thought I would tell you how I like the THREE COPIES TO KEEP PEACE magazine. A lot of good serials have been pub¬ lished in the last year, also a good many fine IN THE FAMILY short stories. I like the Cuthford series, also the Lansing, Michigan. “ Peter the Brazen ” stories. The best story you The Argosy has been in our home since I can have run lately, in my estimation, was “For¬ remember. We are all fond of a good story, and bidden Trails.” In fact I like all the Western The Argosy is a whole bookful. We have to and northern stories. The improbable tales, like get three copies some weeks in order to keep peace “In the Year 2000” and the one now running, in the family. The Argosy reminds one of a rain¬ “ After a Million Years,” I do not care for and bow. Such a splendid combination of stories, seldom read, but others probably like them or with the Log-Book for the pot of gold at the end. you would not publish them. Have finished “The Web.” It gives one a good The stories by Raymond Spears are fine. The idea of German efficiency, if the Kaiser had one started in the February 22 issue, “Islands of only been a reader of The Argosy there wouldn’t Stone,” starts out fine. There are a number of , have been any war. His mind would have been great mistakes in some of the Western and nor¬ too intent on better things. Long live The thern tales. Some of the authors probably never Argosy’ G. W. Birdman. were west of Chicago. In conclusion would say, if you publish this letter, please sign my initials WANTS A REVOLUTIONARY WAR STORY A NEW ONE BY THE SPEARSES Ramseur, North Carolina. I am a great admirer of The Argosy. Have TO COME been reading it ever since it was founded. I have Northboro, Massachusetts. several years’ bound volumes, published in the At last you have exceeded all our hopes. ’8o’s and ’90's that I prize highly. I occasionally “ Islands of Stone ” is absolutely the best tale you read a story in them. Brings back fond memories have given us in all the eight and one-half years of my boyhood days. I do not want to be con¬ we have been reading The Argosy. “ The Trap- sidered a kicker, but I do believe some other than Line Runners” is a very close second, however. 352 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE.

Spears never yet wrote a poor story. Other good form? One of the magazines with that story stories I remember offhand are “ A Soldier's that I bought had some missing pages, and I Honor," “ Vicky Van," “ Americans After All," never got a satisfactory reading of it. I love “ Rosalind and the Forty Thieves,” “ Breaking stories of mystery, detective stories, and really Into West Point,” and all of C. A. Seltzer's, Zane good love stories; and a good short story is hard Grey’s, H. Bedford-Jones’s, and Fred Jackson’s to beat. W. D. C. 1 remember some time since in the Log-Book “HAS THEM ALL BEAT IN A considerable discussion over Jackson, but, like Spears, he never wrote a poor story. At least, I FAIR RACE ” have never read one, and I have read about all he Talent, Oregon. has written. Long life to The Argosy, long may I have never seen any letter in the Log-Book it prosper, and may you give us some more by from this part of the country, so will write and the same combination that wrote “ Islands of say that there are readers of The Argosy here Stone'” B. E. Thayer. just the same. I get The Argosy every week, and three of my neighbors read them when I am through with them. If it only came twice a week AN ENTHUSIASTIC NEW instead of once! I am a swift reader, and get READER over them in a hurry. I surely like the Western stories, and “ Little Boss of Big Ben,” “ The Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Listener,” “ Square Deal Sanderson,” and “ For- I have been a reader of The Argosy since biddenJTrails ” are certainly the best ever. “ Sun- “ Forbidden Trails ” and / After a Million Years ” nie of Timberline ” and “ The Will and the Wo¬ began. I think these stories were great. I like man ” were good, too. I enjoy the short stories, The Argosy the best of all magazines, and I can especially if they are cowboy stories, like the Unde hardly wait till Thursday comes to get the next Jake tales. Had many a good laugh out of “ The issue. I like the serials best, and then the novel¬ Million Dollar Belt." Take it all in all, The ettes. The short stories are also very interesting, Argosy has them all beat in a fair race. I have but not long enough for me. However, I have no no kick whatsoever. Keep up the good work. kick coming, and read the book through from

In the March 8 issue of The Argosy you had two complete novelettes. They were great. I NO THOUGHT OF CHANGING wish you could publish two every week, but I know this would be asking too much. Some THE ARGOSY BACKWARD people'might like a couple of short stories rather 1426 Wesley Avenue, than a novelette. I am now reading “The Ham¬ Columbus, Ohio. mer” and “Texas Fever,” which are very good. I received your letter this p.m., and wish to I have heard of the story by G. W. Ogden, “ The thank you for your prompt attention. I am re¬ Listener.” When are we going to get another ceiving The Argosy all right now, and have also story by him? I also like Charles Alden Seltzer. got all of my back numbers; but you have no I have seen his “ Riddle Gawne ” in pictures, but idea how long it seemed from December 7 to I have not read it. January 11; it was like a year with no Argosy. You may publish any or all of this letter in I simply cannot do without it, and it seems To your Log-Book. Wishing The Argosy the best grow better all the time. of luck, and hoping that they will be as good for¬ Have just finished “ Square Deal Sanderson.” ever as they are now, I remain, a loyal reader, It’s a finte Western story. I think “ Broadname Louis A. Schaefer. Whispers ” very good indeed; also “ Deep Water.” Yes, I like the short stories, too; only the darky “ CITADEL OF FEAR ” NOT IN stories, I don’t care much for them; but others do, so I don’t mind. I like detective stories and BOOK FORM Western stories best of all; but as long as The Washington, District of Columbia. Argosy remains as good as it is at present, you I have just read Mr. Harris’s letter in regard can count on me as a lifetime subscriber. to historical stories, and note his suggestion that I did feel a little worried when you announced you reprint some of the old standard novels. I the Railroad Man’s Magazine was to be com¬ beg to ask that you will not do this. All of us bined with our much-loved Argosy, but I am who are readers have read these stories time and pleased to say that I do not see but what it is all time again, and if we wish to read them again, right, thus far anyway, and I do hope it will con¬ they are on the shelves of every public library in tinue to be. the land. What we want is new fiction, not re¬ I like the Log-Book very much. It seems al¬ prints. most like getting letters from old friends to read Personally, I do not care much for historical them. I don’t know why, but it seems as if all novels, nor for continued stories, as I am a very Argosy readers ought to be friends. “ The rapid reader, and it is so exasperating just to get Whistling Girl ” bids fair for a good one, also a taste of a story, and then have to wait for the “ Forbidden Trails.” There seems to be several rest of it. I like novelettes and short stories; the serials lately that don’t quite reach my idea of long stories I like best to read in book form. I Argosy standard; but oh, I am very glad it comes never lay a magazine down till I have finished it; every week. Please don’t consider those who can easily do it in one evening. want it semi-monthly. It is too good as it is to Of course, I realize that you have to cater to be changed backward. Long live the weekly different tastes, and I think your magazine is Argosy ! fine. Can I get the “ Citadel of Fear ” in book (Mrs.) Emmie R. Higby.

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