Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

THE TRUE STEEL. out some bills and coin from a drawer. “ There’s what you’re after. Now go, and don’t come into my house like that again unless you want to get kicked out.” Snarg grew darkly red, but he did not move. He stood with the money in his hand. ‘““T got something to say about her,” he announced at length. “Very well,” replied Warriner, after a second’s hesitation. ‘‘ Make it brief.” ‘““ Alexander Thorne got me out of bed afore daylight this morning,” said Snarg sullenly. ‘“ He’s got hold of some money some way, and he wants that gal. I'll give you back your thousand, Mr. Warriner, and another with it, for her—” “Get out!” barked Warriner. “ Twenty-five hundred, cash—” John Peter Warriner struck a beautiful blow, starting his fist without warning movement and sending it crashing against Snarg’s jaw. Heavy man that he was, he went back against the wall with such force that the sturdy timbers of the house trem- bled. What followed seemed to happen all at once. A cry from Marianne, a glimpse of Snarg reeling toward the table where the dagger lay, and then a flash of steel as he caught it up and sprang to strike. Warriner threw up an arm, but the blow never fell. The next instant Toby Snarg was sprawling on the floor, his feet tangled in a rug over which he had tripped. The dagger slid away from his hand. Warriner drew a pistol. Snarg got up and began to back toward the door. “We'll get that gal!” he promised, and flashed out of the door as Warriner fired. The bullet drove into the wall. Warriner leaped to a window in time to see Snarg riding away. He turned to Mlle. Fortier, smiling. “He wanted to buy you back, mademot- selle! Truly, you are a very valuable person!” She had picked up the dagger and stood looking at it. “* Monsieur,” she said, “ it is indeed true - steel! It will not fight in an evil cause. Did you see how he fell? No evil can come near you while you have it.”’ 619 ‘““T would rather have my saber,” he laughed. ‘ Or a brace of pistols!” But Marianne Fortier was impressed, and it was almost with reverence that she put the dagger back on the table. Warriner had other matters to think of. The stable boy returned with the information that a boat making the trip into Canadian waters would leave the following night. Until that time it was necessary to bear in mind Snarg and his patron, Alexander Thorne. Thorne was unscrupulous, evi- dently supplied with money, and as gen- uinely in love as he could be. That he had mentioned marriage had proved that. Snarg was moved by his own great passion, greed. And greed was bolstered by long hatred and fresh desire for vengeance. Warriner gave orders to his foreman, Tim Creagan, a stout and loyal fellow, to set a guard that night. Then he loaded his ri- fles and fouling pieces and got out the heavy cavalry saber that he had carried in the war of ’12. This he left in the library, but he resolved that his pistols would stay in his pockets, loaded, until he and Marianne Fortier were safely at the home of her fa- ther. He resolved to mount his half dozen men and arm them for a guard when he - went to Port Franklin the next afternoon. Hours passed, however, and there was no sign of areturn of Snarg. Warriner de- voted himself to Mlle. Fortier; but to-day, having become thoroughly herself, she was cool, aloof, charming, kind. It seemed that John Peter Warriner was to make no fur- ther progress for the present, if at all. Si- lently he cursed himself for having thrown away through his impulsiveness what pres- tige he might have gained from the rescue. That afternoon storm clouds began to gather. Warriner and Mlle. Fortier stood upon the porch and watched the blue-black mass form low over the mountains; listened together to the distant reverberations and saw the first flashes of lightning. The first drops came driving down, and they had turned to go into the house when Warriner saw a hillside a quarter of a mile away light up with a glare that was not from the storm. The next instant a red tongue of flame waved up the side of a hay barn which stoed there. Gomichbooks.com