Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

its ‘Mh © i fi Ly By HOWARD ERICKSON COUNTRY girl of twenty was trail- ing half a dozen cows through the grass and weeds in the late sum- mer afternoon. She was of rather large body, with hands roughened by labor. A sunbonnet, pushed back over her head, revealed smooth features, a reddish com- plexion and sun bleached blond hair twist- ed into a braided knot. Her brown eyes ranged from the cows to a grove on the edge of the pasture and back across the grazing land to a railroad right-of-way. She stared at the bright steel half hidden by sunflowers overhanging the barbed wire fence, her gaze following the railbed. off into the hollow, her ear trained for the screech and rumble of a train. Edna let the cattle stop to browse among the clumps of ragweeds. She could see the stooping figure of her uncle trudging with his horses from the field. He would be in an ill humor if she were late with the cows and did not have any of the milk- ing done when he was ready to help her with it. Her mother would be angry, not 947 merely at her slowness with the chores, but because of her dallying to “ flirt” with the brakeman. | But she would wait for Walter. His train would soon be along. Her mind went rambling back to that sunny day in spring when she first saw Walter, then a brake- man on the Sunday through freight, which stopped near here for the extra engine to pull it over the hill country to the west. It was morning, the dew so heavy that her shoes and stockings were wet with it as she walked across the pasture to get the family driving horse, A short distance down the track the through freight stood, the engine lazily puffing. A young man, erect and debonair, in smart mechanic’s garb, was sauntering along the railroad fence. He stopped and smiled at her. She halted, too, and looked at him. Somewhere off in a field birds sang. ‘“ Hello,” the trainman said in a pleas- ant voice. She answered “‘ Hello,” her face slowly turning red. It was Walter, her first, enduring im- oO comicbooks (©