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 ISLAND ‘Why should Hand lie to me?” ‘““[ suspect that he had a most excellent reason—” ‘““ What reason?” ‘I can’t answer that question.” Natalie Reed laughed shortly, with a plain implication. Stung by the laugh Francis exclaimed: ‘Tf I was your plausible crook Valentine, don’t you suppose I’d have a dozen good reasons io offer you? But I am telling the truth—-as much of the truth as I am al- lowed to tell. I have told you my name. I can also tell you that I must get to Colum- bia in time to catch the steamer Pacific for San Francisco. It is not a matter of press- ing business—it is a question of duty— and make a note of this, vou shan’t stop me from going. Unless you murder me, I will go. And I warn you you are taking a very grave risk in delaying me. Now, will you let me go?” She shook her head. ‘“ Do you think I have waited three years to be put off like that?” “You’re very foolish not to know the truth—” “ But not as foolish as you think!” “You can’t keep me—” ‘“Can’t 1?” She raised the pistol sugges- tively. “ Put away that silly toy!” Francis said sternly. ‘‘ You act like a child. Let me go. I have warned you. You know who IT am—” ‘“ Only who you say you are. Prove it—” “T am not permitted to prove it!” ‘“‘ Because you can’t! Because it’s a lie— another of your lies. But wait—” She crossed the room and brought him a folded paper. It was a deed to Walrus Island signed by the man, Valentine. “Tf you are telling the truth,” she cried, “let me see you sign that man’s name. Here’s pen and ink. Prove it! Go on, prove it!” “ My dear young lady!” Francis raised his bandaged right hand deprecatingly. “TI couldn’t even sign my own name,” he said gently. Sight of that injured hand transformed her. Her dark eyes grew soft and tender. “* Does it hurt?” she exclaimed in a stricken 19 OF DOUBT. 921 whisper. “‘I am sorry I had to do— that!” *“ No, it doesn’t hurt—much. But as for signing my name—” “Bah! <A handy excuse. genious, Mr. Valentine!” “Very well. You are warned.” “And I’m not afraid—not of your kind!” He made no answer. Instead he stretched himself full length on the worn cot he had been sitting on, closed his eyes and turned his back to her. “ You can’t bluff me!” she cried. He gave no sign of hearing. “You hear? Try to escape and you'll get badly hurt next time! I—listen to me—”’ She stamped her foot. It was no good. The man’s breathing was rhythmical and soft. He had fallen asleep as simply as another would take off his hat. She stood staring down on him and the hatred and excitement gave way slowly to a woman’s breathless curiosity. He slept like a healthy child. You are in- V. Atmost three hours later Tom Francis opened his eyes. He was aware of a strange constriction in hands and feet and his first glance showed him he had been bound fast with light rope. He devoted a curious glance to these amateur manacles, then his eyes turned about the room and discovered his jailer sitting watching him with quick- ening interest. The man smiled pleasantly at Natalie Reed. Neither by word nor look did he refer to the ropes ‘that tied him. ‘““T was very tired. All done in by a long, hard, fast trip across the range,’”’ he said. “I apologize for my bad manners— but I was too sleepy to be polite.” “It must be lunch time,” the prisoner went on. “I’m beastly hungry. Do you mind if I make an omelette? If there are eggs I can show you an omelette without a peer.” He rose, and, glancing idly at his gro- tesquely bound arms, bent them slowly to- ward his chest. For a moment he breathed hard, his muscles straining, then “ snap ” went the light rope and he shook the strands- ElDOO) com S CO}