Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

THE LAUGHING RIDER. “ Catchin’ hasn’t got anything to do with it, Annie. I ain’t leavin’ Canada right now for two reasons. The sergeant, I’ve prom- ised him to ride herd for a while—he’s one; and you’re the other. When I leave Can- ada, Annette, I go out, like I came, a free man. And Concho goes with me. And you go with Concho!” A wholly adorable frown gathered upon Annette’s brow. “You like this Concho ver’ much?” she remarked, and pursed her lips. “Shore. Concho is good.” “You think I am almost as good as this Concho—this horse?”’ Billy failed to see the dangerous ground and walked, heavy footed, right into it. ‘“T think that Concho and you stack way high up,” he said. “Oh!” she cried. ‘‘ That is the second time! A horse! -A horse! You say that I am like a horse!”’ She arose to give her words the better effect. Billy reviewed his remarks, frankly not believing her. “T said Concho was good,” he assever- ated solemnly. ‘‘ And I said that you are good. I never said you looked like a hawse.” : 7 “You love that Concho, that horse, bet- ter than you do me!” “ Annie, I love you more than any other female in the whole grass country of North or South America!” He stopped short, amazed that he had spoken the words which for long he had stored in his mind as unspeakable. ‘ Gosh!” he added, and it occurred to him that again Concho had helped him out of a difficulty. “ That Con- cho hawse beats creation.” Annette, who had tottered upon the golden brink of utter felicity, drew back. “What do you say?” she cried. “1 said I love you.” “ But the horse?” “T don’t remember any hawse.” “Oh! You are playing with me! You are making fun!” She strode for the door, pouting. He caught her by the arm and dragged her back. “Tam making you Mrs. William O’Brien Argent,” he said. With a strong hand, which she felt no 155 inclination to resist, he held her closely be- fore him. “You said you want me to go back to the States, Annette. We are going. I’m goin’ to take you where there ain’t no Es- Kimose worth repin’, and where the fall evenin’s don’t remind you of midnight in a cold storage plant. There are flowers in Texas, now, Annette, and the birds are singing in the chaparral with no fear of blizzards or cold weather. “We'll live amongst acacias when up here they’re cutting milk with an ax, and we'll ride together in the January evenings just for the sake of the breeze. In June you will tend to the roses, flower beds that want you, Annie, just as bad as me!” “Oh, Billee! To-night! We well go to-night!”’ : Billy smiled and gazed straight into her eyes. “When the sergeant tells me.‘ Go,’ we will ride into God’s country together.” - “No! No! He cannot hold you. ees a mistak’.” Eet “ That’s what I’m waitin’ dee the ser- . geant to say.” “ But it is dangerous, Billee! so much with guns!” “Not with these pore innocents. I’m waiting for them to draw first after this.’ ‘* Oh, let us go now, to soa Texas. Your golden land. = Still holding her arm, he drew her to him and looked closely into her eyes. a When I’m a free man,” he said, “‘ we will go.” And very kindly, very gently, he kissed her. “Throw up your hands!” sg a voice from the window. Billy reached. “For God’s sake, don’t move! The girl!” rang a voice from another window; Billy stuck up his hands, and looked about him. From each window gazed the sinister muzzle of a gun; behind each gum was a tensely determined man in scarlet: The door opened and Staff Sergeant Mac- Quillan entered, revolver in hand. “T think we’ve got you this time, Ar gent,” he said, smiling grimly. “3 ae cComicbooks You play and _ there’s. con 1a Tt ; tay, ae art ‘VRNTT