Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 109: what you’re looking at

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

THE WAY OF - he came back an’ was tryin’ to tell me about what he’d done.” “Yes,” said Miss Fargo, very softly, her eyes luminous; ‘I suppose Bum did it all. Did you do nothing except watch Bum?” Baxter stared at her in sudden embar- rassment. ““T done what I could, of course,” he answered, blushing again. ‘‘I kicked the fire out. That had to be done first, you know.” ‘And I suppose Strong and the other man were hitting you while you were put- ting the fire out?” Miss Fargo inquired. “ Well, it seems they must have. I was not payin’ much attention to what they was doin’ just then. “ But after I’d got the fire out I lit into them; though my fightin’ didn’t amount to much, because by that time they was shoot- in’ an’ I was gettin’ sort of weak. ‘“ But, Bum! Why, ma’am, that dog was sure a hero!” Miss Fargo’s eyes were misty. She closed her lips very tightly and walked to Baxter’s side. ‘“ Yes,” she said, as she gently stroked his forehead and smiled into his eyes in a way that set Baxter’s heart to throbbing with a wild elation. ‘“‘ Yes,” she repeated, “Bum is a hero. But, oh! Ben, suppose you had been killed!” Miss Fargo looked at the nurse, upon whose lips was a smile of sympathy and knowledge, then she blushed, opened the door and vanished. Baxter closed his eyes, then opened them again and looked at the nurse. What he saw in her eyes embarrassed him so he turned his head and stared out of a window. Miss Fargo ran down the slope toward the office. She crossed the level at the foot of the slope and hurried breathlessly toward the office steps. Her face was flaming, and there was a light in her eyes that brought intense expectancy into Cameron’s as he turned from his desk and saw her Standing in the office doorway. “What is it, Miss Fargo?” he asked. ‘“Oh, Mr. Cameron!” she cried. ‘‘ He is conscious? He’s in his right right mind, and everything! And, oh, Mr. Cameron, he’s so brave!” THE BUFFALO. 99 “You mean Baxter, I suppose,” said Cameron. His eyes gleamed with a quiz- zical amusement over the girl’s betraying excitement, over the telltale blushes that now surged into her cheeks as she inter- preted her employer’s look. “‘Yes—Baxter,” she replied, now almost defiant, although her joy could not be hid- den and shone forth luminously and proudly. “And I don’t care a darn who knows how I feel about him, Mr. Cam- eron!’’ she added as she came forward and stood at Cameron’s desk. ‘“‘ Hs is nice, and I love him! And I think he is the bravest, and the most modest, and the most bashful man in the world!” « ‘Have you told him that?” Cameron questioned. ‘“T never shall tell him!” declared Miss Fargo. Cameron got up and stood near the girl. “Ves,” he said. ‘“ You will tell him, Miss Fargo. Perhaps not in words; but he will know. And I want you to know that you have expressed my opinion of Baxter. We shall neyer quarrel because you praise Baxter too much.” Miss Fargo’s face flamed again. With- out any warning whatever she sprang up- ward, threw her arms around Cameron’s neck, and kissed him upon the lips. “You’re a dear!” she cried. Then she blushed again, turned rapidly away, and appeared to hide her face in a coat that hung from a rack upon the wall. Cameron smiled at her. He had seen this coming, because many times he had observed that Miss Fargo had covertly watched Baxter, her eyes gentle, her cheeks faintly tinged with color. Cameron was glad. Miss Fargo was a good girl. Baxter deserved her. He meant to increase Baxter’s wages, to promote him. He’d make Baxter a wedding present which would cause him to feel repaid for the wounds he had suffered in protecting his employer’s interests. Cameron smiled and locked toward the doorway. Standing there—looking as if he had been there some time—was Joe Gibson. He was leaning against one of the door jambs. His arms were folded over his chest, and upon C@OMNICMOOOKS (S@)