Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

DARK O’ THE MOON. related to the Locklyns. Miss Brooke is very young—not more than nineteen.” ‘What did she say about the Golden Apple? Does she want to sell?” ‘“T think she does want to. She’s com- ing down to your office this morning.” He hesitated. ‘ Of course, I knew it was all right when I found she’d acquired the stock from you. Before that—knowing it wasn’t listed—I felt a trifle—”’ ‘A trifle what?” demanded Sam Car- ruthers sharply. ‘A trifle uneasy,” said Archer Macken- zie evenly. ‘“‘ From what I gathered, from what she dropped unconsciously, I got the impression that it is a matter of importance to her. She is quite alone—” “ Friendless beauty—” ‘“ You are mistaken, sir.”’ Archer’s eyes were blue ice. ‘‘ She is not friendless.” Baylor shot his partner a warning glance. ‘‘ Of course—of course,” he said heart- ily. ‘“ Mighty good of you to take an in- terest. And about the Golden Apple—you are right. It ain’t worth a damn! We had great hopes for that mine about ten years ago—but it flivvered. Of course we don’t want to work hardships on widows ’n’ or- phans, so that now that Sam and me have got a little money we’re buying the stock back.” “Why, that’s mighty white of you—” Baylor stopped him with a large ges- ture. ‘“‘ And see here—suppose you take ol’ Sam and me over and present us. We'll settle it up right now—so’s the young lady can be on her way.” The gentlemen comprising the firm of Baylor & Carruthers might have been turned out of the same mold. Both were large and smooth faced. Both had sunny dispositions. Mr. Baylor, however, was more loquacious than Mr. Carruthers, who smiled often but said little. To-day, as usual, the burden of conver- sation rested on the suavely genial Mr. Baylor. In the pause following Archer’s departure he had inquired about Loch Lyn and old man Gillespie—even remembering, to Lynnie’s astonished delight, the name of the old man’s favorite coon dog, dead long ago. Sol He plunged into business with frank friendliness. ‘About the Golden Apple, Miss Brooke. We've been wondering why we hadn’t got an answer to our letter.” “I thought,” said Lynnie, “that it might be better for me to see the mine before I sold the shares. My mother sometimes spoke hopefully about it.” ‘“ And we had great hopes for it, too, at the time your mother acquired an interest in it.” “Then, it hasn’t turned out so well?” ‘““ Miss Brooke, it hasn’t turned out a- tall. And we’re mighty sorry. But with the cost of transportation, and labor trou- bles—and all—and then on top o’ that, the vein petering out— Well, we’re mighty sorry!” ‘““’m sorry, too,” said Lynnie. “But we don’t want to see you lose,” said Baylor, “‘ and we’ll buy your shares.” ‘I certainly shall not sell anything I know to be worthless,” the girl said quietly. Mr. Baylor leaned toward her in his chair, pointing an argumentative finger. ‘But they are’ worth something to us— not much, it’s true, but something. We want to wind up the business. We want to get it settled, and settled honorably. You surely understand our feelings?” Lynnie nodded. “Well, then! You see you mustn’t keep us from doing the right thing. We'll give you three thousand dollars for your shares, Miss Brooke. That’s a fair price—fair to you and fair to us.” ‘“In that case,” Lynnie was beginning uncertainly. She rose to her feet. The two men stood with her. At this instant the door from the kitchen flew open. Aunt Jury burst in with the force of a tornado. Her eyes were rolling horribly. To all appearances she had sud- denly become a violent, black maniac. ‘“‘ Miss Lynnie,”’ she screamed in a high, wailing chant, “‘de Prophet Dan’l done snatch ’way our riches! ‘“* De Prophet Dan’! done steal our ce’tify- cut! “White folks, heah me!” At sight of their stupefaction her voice rose more distractedly: Cconmicboooks (CO)