Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

THE WAY OF Nelson’s action in helping Strong. Both had felt vengeful, he supposed. Cameron’s thoughts this morning were of things more vital. His work was getting along, he was running everything according to the schedule he had adopted. There was no complaint to be made on that score. His brain was functioning perfectly, as always. His judgment was as clear as ever when- ever the details of his “ job ” were brought to his attention. All the work was progressing, every pro- ject was succeeding. In all matters in which his intellectual powers were tested he was the same as always—dquiet, deter- mined, efficient. But it seemed to him that a new element had entered into him. It had crept in— whatever it was—insidiously, gradually. He felt it had first come when he had stood, facing Ballantine, before he had shot the old man. Perhaps it had been a dormant emotion, awaiting just that sort of a situation to make itself felt. It had grown upon him; it was growing. It had governed his atti- tude toward Strong. In another day he would have whipped Strong until the man would never have for- gotten it. But he hadn’t whipped Strong. Instead, he had felt a sort of contemptu- ous pity for the man. He had let him go without saying a word to him. He kept seeing Ballantine’s face as it had appeared in the instant after the shot from the automatic. The shock of the bul- let striking must have been terrific. But there had been no sign of shock in the old fellow’s eyes. Except for the ironic gleam in them they had been as calm and serene and as coldly indomitable as ever. Not until after he had heard from Dr. Mills that Ballantine had been hit had Cameron any conception of the tragedy that must have lain behind the fine old eyes. He knew, now, and the knowledge had saddened him, had filled him with a queer gentleness, had subdued him. He meant to have a talk with Ballantine this afternoon; he wanted, if possible, to patch up their differences, to make peace. As he walked down the path that led to the house he saw Yirginia sitting on the THE BUFFALO, 105 edge of the rear porch. Her shoulders were drooped a little, her hands were crossed in her lap. She was looking directly at Cam- eron, and he felt she must have seen him as he had walked across the level leading from the office to the gate. But as he came closer he perceived that she did not appear to be looking at him at all, but through him. She did not get up wien he halted near her, but steadily watched him. “You are here again,” she said. \ She was strangely calm. There was no passion in her eyes or in her manner. ““T’ve come to have a talk with your uncle,” Cameron announced. “I want to make peace with him.” “You can’t see him,” she declared quict- ly, but firmly. ‘ He’s asleep—or as near asleep as he ever gets. I don’t want him to be disturbed. Besides, I don’t think he wants to see you again. I wish you would not come here any more.”’ “Virginia, I am going to keep on com- ing until this thing is settled.” “You've said that before,” she returned. There was now a trace of scorn in her voice. “ You are one of those men who can’t be made to see that they are not wanted. What is between you and Uncle Jeff can never be settled! And if you call me ‘ Virginia’ again, I'll horsewhip you!”’ She got up and stood on the ground at the edge of the porch, facing him. The heaving of her bosom warned him of the tumult that was raging within her, and the little Necks of cold fire in her eyes seemed to send lances of disdain toward him. He bowed. “T don’t seem to be-able to help it,” he asserted. “I suppose you will have to horsewhip me often. Perhaps it may seem impudent to you. But it is the most natu- ral thing in the world to me. ‘When I first came here and saw you over there on the ledge with the rifle in your hands, I felt as though I had known you always. Before. you told me your name I seemed to know it was Virginia.” There was contempt in her eyes, but a tide of red surged into her cheeks. “You tell all of them that, I expaict,” she remarked. ComicloOookSse@© S|