Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

By ASHLEY MILLER “WT isn’t the truth,” said Myra steadily. “Dye mean I’m lyin’ about it?” The speaker rose slowly, menacingly to his full six feet and glared down at the girl. She shook her head thoughtfully. “No,” she said and then, with a wraith of a smile, “no, you’ve been stating facts, but truth is more—” She stopped, then went on: “To men the truth is that God gave us this dear little farm and He doesn’t change his mind.” Jason Purdy relaxed. ‘‘ Don’t try to mix religion with business,” he said. “ ’Tain’t the first time a mortgage has had to be foreclosed, and you can’t even pay the in- terest next Tuesday. What d’ye expect?” “J expect a—a miracle, T guess,” said Myra wistfully, “ but I do expect es It was a very old story that was being summed up by the conversation. Myra’s father had left the little farm free and clear. She and her mother had been cheated by having it “worked on shares,” they had borrowed money when the mother became i1l and they couldn’t pay it back. Things looked so black that even Myra admitted the look, but with strange obstin- acy and absolute unreason, she insisted that they could not lose the farm. They loved it so and, as indicated, she believed that it was theirs by a sort of Divine right. Each morning when she went to the well—for her father had never replaced the old-fashioned sweep—she looked out across the small acreage and thanked God for it and for life. But as a matter of fact the farm had not been theirs for a long time. Purdy had gone right ahead with the business of fmding a buyer for it, and a week before the conversation with Myra had two pros- pects ready, eliher of which meant a twenty per cent turn over on his investment. Prac- tically the little farm was his to dispose of, for on Tuesday at noon the law would establish what was already the fact. It was as Myra said, “ a dear little farm.” The land sloped gently to the little trout stream and to the south was partly covered by a fine old orchard, now in full bloom. 954 oO CoOmicbdoo S (S©)