Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

Pass trigue. He realized how little he really understood Paula or the ramifications of her many-sided endeavors; yet Paula was his guest, under his roof and under his protection. | “What would a fella want to steal her for?” wondered Shorty, alongside Steve. “ Ransom?” “Maybe. I don’t know. Possibly re- venge. One thing is certain: she was kid- naped under threat of bodily harm. She was kidnaped in a hurry. Otherwise she’d have left a note or something.” Steve walked over to his new car, a big, reliable, medium-priced machine bought recently. “I’m going to stop this business,” he announced to Slim, the driver. ‘“ We'll catch that train.” ‘Catch a train? On these roads?” “No. We'll beat it. It has to go far to the southward before it strikes the main line. They’ll have to change cars. We'll head for Yuma and cut ’em off.” “Yuma!” groaned Shorty. ‘“ Say, do you know what you’re doin’?” “Yes. Get into the back seat. We're going to rescue Paula.” But as the telegraph poles flew past on the dusty desert road which paralleled the railroad tracks for a way, Steve admitted more irritation than gallantry toward his stepsister. The sport of the race appealed more than the knightly idea of rescue. He was growing slightly weary of Paula. Still, he had his duty toward her. The machine raced for long hours through desert lands, streaked down to the Colorado, and finally the weary, dusty, shaken travelers: reached Yuma and its railroad station. “ Train left forty minutes ago,” said the agent. Steve scratched his sandy hair. “ Are you sure they’d be on this train?” asked Slim. “T guess so. The agent says all the up- State locals were on time. That means they’ve connected.” “Why not wire ahead and stop em?” asked Shorty. “And maybe get publicity for Paula? _ Nol” THE INNOCENT. 239 “Well, what do we do?” “Shove ahead!” said Steve desperately. The machine swept on for countless miles through the Imperial Valley. ‘It’s a fool chase!” growled Slim. ‘“ Maybe,” said Steve wearily. Suddenly it dawned on him that he was headed for San Francisco. He wanted to go there. Why, this pursuit gave him just the excuse he needed! “T refuse to be beaten,” he announced with new vigor. ‘ Step on it!” The car neared the railroad. A small station appeared. “Stop!” ordered Steve. “I'll ask ques- tions.” ‘Aw, the train’s in Los Angeles!” growled Slim. But Steve went to the station. He was gladdened by the agent’s words: “That train’s only a few miles up the line. There’s been a freight wreck blockin’ the whole system.” * Steve jumped back into his car jubilant-. ly. They traveled onward till Riverside hove into sight. Steve sought news. ‘““ The train’s thirty minutes ahead,” said the agent. The car, with its blear-eyed crew, raced grimly on to Los Angeles and approached the depot. | Steve rushed into the vast arcade. He noted that his slung arm was covered with caked dust and his high-heeled cowman’s boots were highly conspicuous in this place of marble tiling and well-dressed Citizens, but he had no time to worry. He leisure- ly approached a colored gentleman in uniform, who finally condescended to speak: “Yes, sir. Train for San Francisco is just leaving. Over there.” Steve looked through a glass door toward the tracks. A crowd milled around waving farewell to passengers. Dozens of moving forms blurred his vision. He didn’t really expect to see Paula; she might have taken another train or she might have eluded her mysterious captor and returned to the ' ranch. Many things might have happened. He found himself apathetic as he watched the crowds. . The train began to move. Suddenly he saw Paula. :