Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

“‘ Angel Irosabal—he and his sons—shall be humbled, broken—cast into the dust. ~ Let them 163k tome! For I warn you, my friend, that the seven lean years are upon this land, even as they were upon Egypt. The time of plenty has passed. “There shall be no rain in summer; no snow in winter; the sage and grass shall - wither and die, and a famine will be upon <Ahe land. The very men whose flocks have worn the roads to powder will live to see - their sheep dying of hunger. “Never have they thought of the lean years, and yet, it was the lean years that -.drove them out of California—and lack of food will drive them out of this valley. _ In its abundance, they have wasted this land and they will have no place to turn in their anguish. They will sell their flocks and herds for a pittance, or they will die.” Joseph lowered his hand and gazed in- tently at Peter. ~~" “And now, my friend,” he said, “a secret for a secret. There is one ee has moved about in these hills—unknown, un- seen—leasing land, contracting for it against -a-day to-come, And that day is near. He thas” schemed well. For months he has ~known that when fall comes, a scratch of os : the pen will close the reservation to sheep. ~ ve. _ penings, “And though he knows me not—that man is my father.” ~~» Old Peter was left speechless. There was Se uncanny, unreal, about this boy. He spoke with such an air of finality, of truth, that the aged man felt the absurdity _ of questioning his words. Joseph’s ap- pearance, his dress and the weirdness of his surroundings combined to instill in him a feeling of awe such as no other man had ever awakened. A Basque, steeped in ‘superstition, would run in fear from the boy. Just now, with that matter-of-fact tone which one uses to announce trivial hap- he made a statement not less startling than word of his own presence _. there on the mountain had been.~ And the calm assurance with which he looked for- ward to the adjusting of his account with — his: grandfather; his frankly expressed con- viction that he was there as God’s in- _Strument; the biblical Havor of his S speech _ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. —Peter thought of these things in a muddled way. | He wished himself elsewhere. As in a vision, he saw the Gaults—father and son .——biding their time, waiting the propitious moment, gathering strength to strike—grim, unrelenting, unforgiving, never forgetting, placing their dependence in God. By com- parison, he felt himself impotent, decision- less. : Was it fear of this boy that made him so uneasy? Hot anger flared in his old veins as he answered his own question. Suddenly, he reached out for his boots, de- termined to sleep in the open, but his hand paused in mid-air. Some one was coming. Peter cocked his head and listened ex- pectantly. The sound which reached his ears was not that of a human footfall, nor was it the soft pad-pad of an animal’s feet. It was strange, grating, harsh in the still- ness. Peter glanced at Slippy-foot. Her hair was ruffled, and she was backing away from the door, but she neither whimpered nor growled. Joseph had turned and was staring out into the night. Peter tried to read his feel- ing from the pose of his back, but he found it straight, untensed—apparently untouched by any emotion. Whatever was approaching the dug-out was coming toward it with a measured stride. Peter had become aware of the rhythmic insistence of the ghastly sound that it made. He felt a shiver pass up and down his spine. It was not the wolf shiver. He had trembled at the timber gray’s call too many times not to recognize it. Never had the wolf cry brought him a sense of fear and he knew that the thing which gripped him now was. fear. He drew his legs up as he waited. Slip- py-foot nudged closer to him, and he was glad she was there. Then in the doorway appeared the thing that had frightened him. Blacker than the night it was; with lordly mien it strutted into the room, its black claws tapping up- on the hard-packed floor, its gold-rimmed eyes wide, piercing—the wisdom of the world in their depths—a giant crow! — chooks: Lt com