Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 133: what you’re looking at

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

THE CALL OF SHINING STEEL. loves a man there is not enough money minted to buy her off. But buoyed up by the hope that he was on the way to helping Jim, he walked blithely towards the depot. He glanced into the fruit store, then across the street to the druggist’s. Both places were empty. He wandered out through the depét on to the waiting platform. In a dark corner, leaning against the grating that separated the depét from the passenger tracks and unmbrella shed, he saw her. “Good evening,” he began. She cast a glance across the tracks as though looking for some one before answering. “Hello yourself!” Then, noticing the concern in his face, she said flippantly, “ Well, let’s have it. Get it off your chest before it sours on your stomach. I’m listening.”’ : Zeb scarcely knew how to start, but blurted out, “ Jim, it’s about Jim.” “Say, what you trying to hand me? I’m through with Jim. He’s dead and planted deep as far as I’m concerned. You needn’t try to square him. I know you and he are thick and he’s probably trying to find out why I ain’t been around for a week.” Zeb stood ill at ease, first on one foot then on the other. This unexpected turn of events had completely nonplused him. He opened his mouth to speak. She waved her hand at him and he noticed the sparkle of a diamond on the third finger of her left hand. “Depart John Alden, from. Hasten back to Miles Standish and tell him his goose is burnt black, his pies mashed.” And’ she dismissed him with the words, “ Please, Mr. White, don’t bother me with Jim Brown any more. He’s run through the derail, turned over and wrecked his train. He’s off the board and right of way. I’ve got a regular guy now and [I will stick to him. Good-by.” Zeb left hurriedly without looking back. Tf he had, he would have seen Sidewheeler’s defiant look melt, her flippant manner wilt, and down her cheeks a slow trickle of tears course in steady drops. He might have heard the low words, ‘‘ Oh, Jim, you’re the only guy I ever loved and now you're gone _ forever!” | 287 But Zeb was never to know the heart wrench that she had given herself, for a min- ute later she had wiped away the tears, pow- dered her face anew, and when Jake came hurrying up she met him with a smile and a laugh. Life on the fringe of the railroad had taught her that a smiling face and a breezy manner were better, far better, than tears and sighs even if they covered-a sore and broken heart. - He went to his room with a feeling of relief, and, sitting on the bed, he reviewed events that had passed and gone. The warm moist spring evening had a softness, a feeling almost benevolent about” it. Through the open window the sounds of engines popping off over at the round house welled in, muffled and yet distinct. A low rumble told of an engine taking on coal. From up the yard could be heard the regu- lar beat of a switch engine. These things came to Zeb’s ears, an undertone of familiar noises that he had become so accustomed to that they were scarcely perceptible at any time and now they were but as things well known, things heard from a great distance. For there was a flood of memories singing through him that carried him back to the days when the noises of the railroad fell harsh and Strange on his ears. His injury when he had lain pinned helpless in the rising creek, that seemed ages ago. Itchy-Witchy—the time she had carried his message, that was in the long, long past. Funny about the railroad. It was a man’s game. He knew a hundred men, knew them well and in the same time, what a few women ke had met. The nurse, Miss Annie, it was so strange that he could not think of her without con- necting Jim’s personality to hers. 3 He remembered a half dozen times in the year after his injury when he had gone out to see Miss Annie. Jim had accom- panied him several times. With him her air had been one of friendliness, but Zeb had felt rather than understood the re- lationship between her and Jim. It was like the sword play between two expert fencers—a rapid feint and parry, a glint of phrases that met, were guarded and met again. Jim was trying to break through her guard—with small success. Mee SAD, ot ee” re Th) a hy ries fut Eomiichboo! : ‘ey I 7 aaNe A oth ay y hu : ' j