Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

Peyoit ‘a it Fey ft Pay Pee oe t ” ‘ , Ana , : iA . ’ ~ “ He wouldn’t go with you.” Marcia suppressed the luxury of a scream. She postponed it. She shaped her lips and gave a sharp whistle. “North Star,” she said, “ come!” The dog did not move; no muscle of him moved. His eyes remained fixed upon Wil- bur’s. In them he seemed to read a ques- tion. “You'll only make a show of yoursell, declared Wilbur. Marcia stared coldly at the few neigh- boring people in whom her whistle had aroused a more or less intensive interest. She grasped that they were classing her among the exhibits. Several even moved in her direction as though to encircle her to view her act—a dog act. The thought seemed tremendously hu- morous, and she began to laugh. She moved rapidly away. She found herself walking swiftly back along the path and toward the figure of Michael Lebombard standing in the open doorway of his cabin. “Go up to my bfother and get your dog,” she said fiercely when she came up to him. “ As you may or may not have realized, my brother has had too much to drink. He is perfectly liable to walk out and have the dog follow him. He isn’t, and I won’t be, responsible for his actions.” “ Perhaps not, mademoiselle,” said Le- bombard; and his voice was that of an old man, of a very old man, who has just realized the truth that the fabric of all human emotion is no more tenuous than the stuff of dreams; “but North Star, my son, he will. You need not to worry any more about your brother. No harm will come to him now.” ‘“T’m not worrying in the slightest about my brother. I stopped worrying about my brother about five years ago. I’m worrying about your dog.” “ Mademoiselle she mean her brother’s dog.” A curse, a bitter, good, strong, honest curse upon conundrums shouted Marcia’s nerves. What Wilbur had done, she de- cided, inasmuch as her ragged edges would permit ber to decide anything, was to buy the dog while he had lingered in the cabin. “ How much did he pay you?” 492 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Old Lebombard’s face did not change the alignment of a single wrinkle; but it grew pale. “Nothing, mademoiselle.” “He paid you nothing, and yet you don’t object to the dog walking out of this building with him? A dog worth thousands of dollars?” She wanted to shake him. “ Mademoiselle need feel nothing of con- cern. It is a private matter between North Star, mademoiselle’s brother, and me, Michael Lebombard. I have but one little reques’ to make. Your brother’s name, mademoiselle, and the address of where he live.” The cat at last had popped from the bag, felt Marcia. ““ TI see,” she said. “‘ You'll send the bill around in the morning.” And there was ne doubt in her mmd but that it would be @ stunner. “ Mademoisellef” Marcia wondered at the burning glints that had sprung into his black butten eyes. “ There will be no bill. For the las’ time I tell you I take no money for North Star. I ask for the name—the address—so that I may know where it is his home. So that perhaps some day, if the brother of mademoiselle he is so kin’, some day when I am more lonely than on other days, I may be permitted to come and see my North Star again. I should like to do so jus’ once before I die.” “T really believe you are serious.” “Serious, mademoiselle! What bring you to this place? Why you come—why I come—why?” She refused to retreat before the fierce- ness in his look and in his voice. She stared back at him sharply. There was something uncanny about the creature. Weird. What had he meant by his question? Recluses, She had been led to believe, possessed a certain power of divination, of second- sight. “Y will tell you what it is bring you to this place, mademotselle—the thing that bring you and your brother and me and North Star.” Michael Lebombard’s voice held the chill sternness of one of his -own great northern winds. “It is fate.” She expelled a pent breath of relief. O « = ee ae am eh Se i a So oe ge. ng a a ee ee com cbooks.com