Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

THE LAUGHING RIDER “ Annette!” her father cried. ‘““Y’re responsible to the law!” bellowed MacQuillan. Craddock, his eyes on Billy’s eyes, cried warning: “ Tl fire! By God, I'll fire!” Savardé strode forward, distraught, and pulled at his daughter’s arm. “No!” she cried out now with 4 new - voice—a voice of high command and splen- _ did indignation. “I say you weel not! Ts it that you are afraid he will hang up all three of you like the bacon?” This was too much for Staff Sergeant MacQuillan. He went completely insane. The wholesome anger abruptly left his face, which froze into a dreadful and ironic grin. The fine reverberation of his roar gave way to a metallic note that clanged like steel upon an anvil. His manner be- came icily polite. “ Dinna ye mind them, Willis,” clanked his voice in command. ‘ We'll forego the manacles.”’ The girl turned to him impulsively. forestalled her. He _ “Nay, dinna fash yerself, Annette,” he snapped; “I can see it was a grand mis- take I’m makin’. with a common criminal.” It was notable that he did not put up his gun. “Then you confess he is innocent?” she cried, bewildered. ‘“‘ Nay, not that. But I see we’ve caught one of the nobility.” He turned to Savarde. “Emile,” he said, his fine irony ringing grimly in the room, “ harness up .a buck- board and put in such horses as a king should use; for he is not the man to treat slightly. I’d have him ride his own bit pony, only I misdoubt she is too poor flesh for a nobleman—and she runs down cut banks something uncanny.” Emile looked at him in bewilderment, as did the two red coats, and Annette; for fantasy was not the sergeant’s metier. Only Billy gazed upon MacQuillan at that mo- ment with anything of fellow feeling. Billy smiled; this mood was Billy’s meat. “Dinna stand gapin’, then!” exploded MacQuillan suddenly. ‘“ Did ye no hear me say?” _ “ But yes!” protested Savardé. < I thought I had to do “Tt will W5T be but a moment.” And he departed to do the sergeant’s bidding. MacQuillan turned to the prisoner. ironic calm returned. “Ye will give us yer pardon, I’m hoping, that we have no proper place to ask ye to wait?” he said. Billy smiled appreciatively, his eyes never ceasing to watch the guns surround- ing him. Time was pressing. ‘“‘ Admiral,” he said, “don’t apologize. If you want to make me happy, just put up all this hardware, One’s enough.” The sergeant’s grim smile tightened. “JT wouldn’t insult yer wi’ less than three,” he explained. “ Moreover, one might go off.” ‘““One might,” said Billy, pointedly. “Will ye no sit down?” requested the sergeant. “No. I'll wait here.” | But a fair and delectable idea had en- tered the mind of Staff Sergeant MacQuil- lan. “ Ah, but ye’ll find it weary,” he said. “T’ve a better place for waiting.” He turned to a doar that led to the in- terior. “Bring the prisoner with me,” he in- structed the red-coated constables. And keeping Billy, whose hands were still aloft, before them, they followed him into An- nette’s bower beneath the stairway. The sergeant turned to his prisoner with a smile; it was a master stroke. In this restricted apartment, manacles were surely superfluous, for Annette had furnished it entirely with her brilliant and highly artistic collection of cushions. Here Billy was surrounded by every variety of them. There were round cushions and square cushions. There were fair, dark, and flaming cushions. There were large, small, light, and heavy cushions. There was neither chair nor table nor any other thing which could be turned to use aS a weapon. With vast complacency Staff Sergeant MacQuillan ushered Billy into this “cushioned recess and turned to him. and smiled. ¢ “Will ye recline?” he asked, and indi- cated the great pile of upholstery under the ascending “stairs, which marked Annette’s | -comichbooks His (E(0) j