Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

LORETTA BRODELL. changed her tone and demanded- coolly. “ You first tell me the truth.” What could he say? He could confess that he was pursued, yes; that he had dropped off the train at the top of Goldpan Cafion, that he was wanted for murder. All that she would know soon enough any- way. That much he could confess. But could he tell her the whole truth? Could he say that he was merely carrying the blame of a murder on his own shoulders— in order to save a friend? To divulge that wouldemean the ultimate defeat of his whole game. “ Unfortunately I cannot tell you the truth.” She could not understand why it was she wanted to be on this man’s side—against the law. And yet she persisted: “If I knew the truth, do you think I would let you be taken?” “T beg of you not to ask the truth—now. I will tell you everything when I can.” “You killed a man then?” He did not answer. “Yes, that is certain. for murder.” “They want me for murder,” he re- peated. She lifted her face, moved closer to him. She spoke in an anxious tone, as if eager for him to defend himself: “ Did you kill aman in a just fight?” “That I will tell you—-when the time comes. If you will only believe! I can’t explain now! It’s something I’m fighting for—and I can’t tell you what it is without losing the fight. All I ask is that you be- lieve in me—for only a short while. Then I will prove myself.” The girl’s heart was pounding like a frightened bird’s. It was a strange, an ex- quisite, fear standing there with a hounded man beseeching her for mercy. She tried to fortify her lips again with that scornful smile. But her thin, delicately molded face was too vivid, agile. The man looking down at her could read it. “Why are you afraid?” he asked. They want you “Ym not afraid. That is, not of you.” “* Afraid of what then?” She spoke up bravely now: “ It seemed “345 so grim, horrible—being trailed for mur- der—coming sere of all places!” ‘“ Tt seems to be the luckiest turn of fate that ever happened to a man!” he said with a touch of chivalry. ‘IT don’t know about that!” she replied. ‘This is a country without law and order, except for three men who keep it safe. If you had stumbled into any other ranch—a Mexican xacalli, a Papago hut, anywhere, they would have hidden you—for a little money. ‘There are only three men on this whole range who will stop a bandit. And those three men are my brothers!” Chilton smiled. The announcement ap- peared to have little effect on him. “ Yes, I see—I see why you thought it something of a joke—my coming here. Very un- fortunate.” | “And they’ll get you, there’s no doubt about that!” the girl said. ‘“ They have never failed—those three big brothers! Every one is afraid of them—saloonmen, gamblers, cholos, rustlers, yes—and the Sheriffs, too, are afraid! The sheriffs are crooked—my brothers aren’t. You have no chance. It’s no use. I could help you if I dared—but they’d win. I couldn’t help you against tem—even if I dared!” She put out her hand impulsively, then drew it back. There was a violent conflict in that one gesture. This man was going to fight her brothers—perhaps kill them. And she pitied him! “If you dared—” he repeated the words as if they had a pleasant taste. “T will dare! How can I let them kill you!” He could not help but sense the im- measurable pity in that outburst. It was the pity of a woman who looked upon a condemned man—a woman whose whole soul rebelled at the thought of life being taken away. Then came the sound of horses clopping* over the stones. He looked to her. He appeared abso- lutely confident that she would not give : him up. Her face flamed. She had lost her sense of fear—at least momentarily. She had been like an animal which, in the pres- ence of a frightened human being, becomes oO COPMIElOOOlKS (CO) in