Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

A BOOB THERE WAS. coffee and bacon, even though the latter was a little scorched, tasted like nectar and ambrosia to their famished lips. As Faith munched away at her third sandwich she began to giggle. ‘“‘ Bob,” she said, “ has it struck you yet that we’re playing a sort of return date on all the old-time miracles? First, it was Hagar at the well, and now it’s Elijah fed by ravens.” . “Ves,” said Bob, hastily swallowing the remainder of his sandwich; “and now I want a third miracle to happen. Will you marry me, Faith?” And, letting go of the wheel, he took her tumultuously into his arms. For a while the flivver ran itself, When at last they had returned to some- thing like normalcy again, Faith spoke de- murely. “ Well,” she said, “‘as my grandmother has often remarked, you can’t tell what the young people of to-day will be up to next. I never dreamed that I should be proposed to in a desert flivver by an unshaven cave- man with more guns on him than W. S. Hart, or that my betrothal kiss would be flavored with bacon grease. Still,”’ she add- ed, “I’m willing to admit that T like it.” “Vou darling!” exclaimed Bob raptur- ously. And again the flivver was left to its own devices. “Tm afraid, though,” he sighed with his cheek pressed close to hers, “ that T’ll have to ask you to wait a long time. The way that this Rawlinson tract deal has turned out means that I’ll have to start in all over again.” “Why, Bob,” she exclaimed eagerly, “ don’t you know that you are—” But she broke off with a startled grab at his arm. “Look out where you are going!” she cried. ‘ Mind you wheel!” It was too late. The flivver running down a little bank, plunged into a patch of wet sand and sank in above the hubs. The wheels could get no purchase. No matter how the engine was manipulated, they simply spun around and around, churn- ing up the water and sand, but making no progress. 749 With a muttered anathema, Bob sprang out to see what he could do; and immediate- ly went down to his armpits. It was only by clutching at the flivver that he saved himself from going deeper; and it required a tremendous exertion on his part and all the aid that Faith could lend him, before he succeeded in extricating himself. “Quicksand!” he gasped as he flopped panting back into the car. ‘‘ And no bottom to it. That darned flow of water from the oil well has struck a patch of it here in the desert, and we had just the luck to run into it. Now what are we going to do?” “But why doesn’t the flivver sink into it?” asked Faith. “Tt is sinking; only it presents more sur- face, and so goes down more slowly. [I'll tell you ”—he spoke soberly—“ we’re in a darned bad fix.” A bad fix, it was, indeed; and although both of them bent all their wits to a solution of the problem, they failed to find it. While they sat pondering and discarding one suggestion after another, the moon rose; but that did not help them in any way. It merely showed them more plainly how des- perate was their plight. All around them was the quicksand, too wide to be jumped across or bridged in any way, and Bob’s experiment had already revealed the futility of attempting to wade it. Also, slowly but surely the flivver, their only refuge, was sinking into those treacherous depths. The oozy sand was now lapping within an inch of the floor. “Listen!” Faith suddenly raised her head. ‘I hear something.” She was right. Another minute left no doubt of that. The pant of motor cars driv- en at high speed throbbed upon their ears. “It is another miracle,” cried Faith joyfully. ‘‘ We are going to be rescued.” Nearer and nearer came the sound. At last the cars themselves hove into view— two big machines filled with men, who as they sighted the flivver, let out a yell of triumph; Red and his crew, Yes; they would be rescued—if you want- ed to call it that. They were between the devil and the deep sea. TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK Gomichbooks (C@