Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

VINGO’S LADY SERPENT. T glanced at Uncle Dan Vickus. His mouth ‘ was all pinched up and his black old nose was wrinkling and his oystery old eyes looked as if they were seeing ghosts. “Tf there’s anything in what folks say about their age being regulated by their size,” Alvina went on, “ that ’gator must be all of eight hundred years old. Think of being on earth ever since the year twelve hundred! He must be eighteen feet long. Well, finally, he opened his horrible mouth, let out a long hiss at the moon and backed away from it as if he was scared—backed all the way into his swamp. If he comes out again, Jeff is going to shoot him. That big slimy, scaly brute is dangerous.” ‘“ Dawgs,” Uncle Dan croaked. Alvina looked at him. ‘“ These pups?” “Yassum. It’s gettin’ near his feedin’ time and he’s hankerin’-fo’ dose dawgs. Ah reckon he’s done away wif twenty dawgs jes’ sence Ah been yuh, miss. He’s hongry fo’ dem dawgs, and ef yo’ don’ watch out he'll git ’em.” Alvina smiled dreamily and patted the two blood-mad little brutes. Then she looked up at me. “Buck,” she said, fight?” I told her I didn’t know. “ But ll bet a dollar to a doughnut,” I added, ‘“‘ that you’re at the bottom of it.” She shrugged her beautiful shoulders. “Tf lightning came down and burned up your house, you’d blame me,” she said. “You seem to think I’m responsible for everything that goes wrong.” She sighed. ‘“T sure am sorry I missed seeing that fight. It was a tie, huh?” “ Yassum,”’ Uncle Dan answered. “Did you tell your brother,” I asked, “to give that still of his a chance to cool off once in a while?” ‘“‘T gave him your message,” Alvina said, playing with Timmy’s ears and not looking up. ‘I reckon we won’t be stayin’ here much longer. Our welcome seems to be worn pretty thin.” Uncle Dan _ shuffled off toward the quarters, and when he was out of earshot, Alvina looked up. ‘* Sit down here beside me,” when I had sat down she snuggled her hand “what started that she said, and. = _— = & ~ ow « ro ae o7 ees - - a >< Pag “ Pea Sir te v" at . an under my elbow. “Buck,” she said, ‘“what’s got into you lately? Don’t pe ae really like me?” ‘“Sure,” I said. “A whole lot?” “Too much.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “ Well, I like you too. I think Tm fonder of you than any man—” And that was as far as she got. often wondered since what would have hap- pened if that fellow from the luxury belt hadn’t dropped in just then and interrupted her. I think we had been working toward that moment from our very first meeting, and I find myself wondering now if she meant anything she said; but I am sure that we were closer then than we ever were before or afterward. That moment was the beginning and the end of everything. I realize that now. At the time I was just sore at that fellow for interrupting us. Damn that fellow! Vil. He drove up in one of these long, gray, low-slung foreign cars. It seemed to glide up out of the mist like a gray panther with only a faint hiss. It had a pointed hood and tires like doughnuts. They were the first balloon tires in Vingo. “Good morming!” he said, and his smile was like a baby’s, except that it showed — two lines of the whitest teeth I ever saw. We backwoodsmen always resent his type. I sized him up in a glance. I knew he had come from one of the swell hotels, and had never known a second’s real worry in his life. He had that curious air about him that only those men have who have had plenty of money all their lives. Easy and confident. He was a dark, handsome young fellow with fine, clear dark eyes, and I remember him always smiling. Under his right arm he carried a double-barreled — shotgun that must have cost at least five hundred dollars. The butt was carved and the steel-work was a mass of intricate en- graving and inlaid with gold and silver. He had on whipcord hiking pants that looked as if they’d been made by a London tailor, a pair of expensive elkskin snake _ I have — Gomicbooks-corn: