Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

\ 112 stood behind him and held the lantern so that the light came over his shoulder. Cameron appeared to be taking his time. He took so long that the man holding the lantern grew impatient and SS him to hurry. And Gibson stood, silently kick- ing into a hummock, watching Cameron’s face in the light from the lantern. What Gibson saw in Cameron’s face caused his lips to straighten and his eyes to gleam strangely. For Cameron was tak- ing it too calmly to be guilty of the things that, mentally, Gibson had charged him with. A man with nerves as steady as Cam- eron’s could not deal despicably with wom- en. And that was what was behind Gib- son’s participation in this affair—a fear that Cameron had been trying to make a fool of Virginia. Gibson continued to watch Cameron until the note was finished. Then, with the train rumbling toward them—now not more than three or four miles distant— Cameron stepped clese to Gibson and gave him the note. Gibson motioned to the lantern bearer, and in the light from the lantern read what Cameron had written: DELL: I am going West for a few days, on busi- ness. It seems imperative, right now. During my absence you will appoint Joe Gibson te act in my place, with full power to conduct the work according to the plans we have agreed upon. Gibson is reliable, and has the genius to handle men. You will pay him a salary of fifty dollars per day until my return—which will be within a week. James J. CAMERON. Gibson stood, rereading the note. A flush had stolen up his throat, had spread ever his cheeks, to vanish into his hair. The men were betraying signs of impa- tience; they were crowding forward, curi- ous over the emotion that had brought the blood surging into Gibson’s face. But Gibson continued to stare at the note. He appeared to read it again, then he dropped his hands te his sides, the note gripped in his fingers, and stared at Cam- eron, amazed, incredulous. “ Cameron, ” he said slowly, “ you ain’t fourflushin’ in this note?” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “It’s Straight, Gibson.” ‘““You’re meanin’ to come back?” “Within a week. Gibson, you don’t think for one minute that you men are go- ing to scare me away from my job! I'l take the train all right! But I'll be back as sure as shooting! Or, if you are cow- ards enough, you can hang me right here, and be damned!” Gibson stared downward. The train was new not more than a mile distant. The engineer, evidently having seen the lighted lantern, had sent a sharp blast of warning. There now came another blast, short, pierc- ing, inquiring. Gibson did not move. The lantern bear- er, anticipating Gibson’s order to flag the train, was standing tense, expectant. The other men were muttering unintelligibly. ““Cameron,” said Gibson, leaning close, “are you runnin’ square with Miss Fargo an’ Virginia?” “ Just that, Gibson. Miss Fargo is noth- ing to me—has never been. I love Vir- ginia!”’ Gibson stiffened, turned. “Douse the light, Bill!” he ordered, sharply. ‘‘ Cameron ain’t goin’ to take this train!” The light went out. The engine, swing- ing around a curve, threw a blinding beam from its headlight fairly upon the group near the track. There came a long-drawn blast from the whistle, there was a rumble and a rushing roar, a confusing blur of lights—white and green and red—and then the train was past, and Cameron, Gibson and the other men were standing silent in the moonlight. “ That’s all, boys!” said Gibson. eron stays!” He stood, leaning a little forward, peer- ing into the faces of the men. “ We’re licked, boys,’ he added shortly; “go back to camp.” He stood, not looking at Cameron, while the men mounted and rode southward, out of the valley. Then he turned to Cameron. “Fm headed for the ranch house,” he said. “If you ain’t too darned sore over what’s happened, you can ride back with me.” He walked to his horse. Cameron moved TA COMIC DOOKS ‘¢ Cam- (S@)