Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

668 to justify the line’s extension for service; also, apparently, judging from the dust that lay thick everywhere, from the boarded win- dow and the bareness of the equipment, the place had not been in use for a long time. To shout and cry out would be futile and silly. It would simply serve as notice to his warden that he had recovered from his stupor. There could be no gain in hast- ening the return of their attention and ac- trvity to himself. Better, Jem reflected, would it be to maneuver for such respite as he could. Perhaps, in the meantime, some scheme of salvation would present itself. The racking pain in his head had grown more intense. With a coolly philosophical acceptance of his position Jem slipped to the floor in the position in which he had found himself on returning to his senses and closed his eyes in an attempt at sleep. The rest would soothe and clear his head and he would be likely to need a clear brain when he awoke. The guard, glancing in from time to time, as he probably would doe, would think him still unconscious. Fifteen minutes later Jem was snoring as peacefully as though rolled in his blanket under the stars on the moon-washed moun- tain slopes, with Suds tethered by his side. When he awoke the air in the cabin had thickened to a dense grayness. The throb- bing in his head had gone and only a slight twinge reminded him occasionally of the wound above his temple. He felt refreshed and strengthened—and with the improve- ment in his physical condition came a cor- responding buoyancy of spirit. He felt a new surge of reckless confidence. He got to his feet and went to the cracks in the window. Night had fallen. The camp below twinkled with scattered electric lights. As he stood there at the window, the sound of voices and a fumbling with the door fastenings came from without. The door opened and his guard entered, bearing aloft a common keorsene lamp. Behind him came Kurtz. The guard placed the lamp on the table and departed, closing the door behind him. “Well,” Kurtz said, “ you finally come to, I see. That rock took a good bit of the starch out of you, I guess.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, He struck a swaggering, taunting pose, his hands on his hips. ‘IT guess you ain’t quite so cocky, now. Don’t think quite so much of your persuad- ing ability now, huh?” ‘Oh, I don’t know,” Jem drawled. “TI ain’t lost the argument yet—not by a damned sight.” ‘No? Well, maybe it won’t be so long till I can prove to you that Bill Kurtz ain’t such a slouch of an argufier himself.” He seated himself on the stool. ‘“There’s one thing Id like to find out first: Where’s Herb Hoskins—what did you do with him?” Jem grinned. “Got you worried, have I?” he gibed. The other man flushed angrily. ‘Worried? Oh, no,” he retorted. “I reckon you'll loosen up and ‘tell me, all right.” c¢ Yeh?” “Yes.” It was Kurtz’s turn to open a wide grin. “ You forget I told you I was some little persuader myself.” Jem understood the implied threat. Kurtz was quite capable of resorting to primitive directness of method and attempting to force the information from his prisoner by torture. ‘I’m an awful stubborn feller,” he re- marked. ‘‘ Contrariness sure does make me stiffen out my laigs.” ‘““Now that’s sure too bad,” mourned Kurtz. ‘“ When I was a kid I used to wrastle horses some. When I got a stub- born horse I’d break him right enough, same as a gentle critter—but it sure was tough on the horse.” ‘‘ Jus’ the same, I'll bet the bronco got a lot of satisfaction out o’ seeing you ‘Sweat an’ cuss an’ tear around.” Kurtz rose to his feet. ‘All the same,” he stated emphatically, “ don’t you forget this one little fact: When it was all over—ihat horse was broke!” He stepped close. to Jem, his hate filled eyes gleaming maliciously. He- gave his prisoner’s nose a vicious, insolent tweak. ‘Just think that over, big boy,” he ad- vised. ‘I think Ill give you all night to do it, and then maybe by morning you'll be a mite more talkative.” | Gomichdooks-co