Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

266 assassin. Wade Murrell’s house was to be their objective, and when they reached it they looked for battle. The Murrells would not be resting idly at their homes on such a day, and just as the Skidmores were rallying over here, so the Murrells would be gathering and ‘‘ greasin’ rifle-guns over yon.” It would be an advance guard of pur- suers, in all likelihood, that would clash first with an advance guard of defenders. At Wade’s stile there would be a curt demand for the surrender of Cas Harley in the name of the law—made by a Skidmore, who held office as a deputy sheriff. There would be as curt a refusal, based on the plea that this was not a genuine posse, but a clan mob. Then the fighting would begin. The truce would be definitely ended—and some of those who went over would not come home. But when Troy Lesher, the deputy, with three or four men at his back, peered cautiously through the laurel for their first view of the Murrell abode, they drew back again and looked at each other in amaze- ment. Wade himself and two or three of his more peace-loving kinsmen stood there un- protected in the yard. The doors and win- dows stood open—not barred, as might ve ee ee ee ee x aa a ee = ; ‘ ~ a a ee a ge Omer, i a ~, — ~ FF, a, SS eS Se ra jo SE: ee — = 4 5 ee ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, have been expected; for siege. There was no show of ready weapons.- Half suspecting some trap of a new and crafty devising, the deputy stepped out into the open with his hands wide of his body. ‘“Y’m Troy Lesher, ther depitty sheriff,” he shouted, “ an’ I wants Cas Harley for murder. Is he hyar?” Unarmed, Wade Murrell walked forward to meet him. ‘““ He’s inside, men,” he called out as he went, “ but he lays dead. He sought ter slay me a lettle while back, an’ Mr. Carroll | shot him. 'Won’t ye come in?” “ Hit’s a lie,” bellowed a voice from the shelter of the woods. ‘ Don’t go in thar, Troy. He’s seekin’ ter lure ye inside an’ holt ye fer a hostage.” Wade Murrell stopped dead in his tracks. “Ef ye come hyar ter find out ther truth,” he declared, and his voice had altered to a challenging hardness, “ hit’s a right easy thing ter do. Hit’s a pity ter spill blood when ther cause is done ended.” He paused, then added: “ But ef ye jest come hell-bent on warfare, I kain’t holp it. Ye kin hev hit either way ye wants. Cas lays dead inside my house, an’ I invites ye ter come in an’ see fer yoreselves. I don’t aim ter fotch him out ter ye.” TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK U U Loj THE COMPENSATION COME, kiss and forget! Why care? All the world can take, we can spare;} At loss of its favor why fret? We are sure of each other yet; Oh, what may our love not dare? The wreath that but one could wear, The wealth that we never could share, For these should our eyes be wet? Come kiss and forget! Forget all we bore, and must bear; Where love is, what place for despair? Our hearts to God’s music set, Can either ever regret 3 : The price of the harmony rare? . esas Come, kiss and forget! ss oe ee ee - ~ -— e es Aw oor _ Stokely S. Fisher, ———— = a