Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

EXCITEMENT TRAIL. Her face, vividly clear in the lamplight, bore no trace of rouge or other artificial aids to beauty; indeed, such aids seemed not to be needed. Rusty’s mind retained the impression of graceful shoulders, of a daintily exquisite figure partially concealed by a lacy mantilla. | The flash of a gun shot burst out as he ran, its deafening report crashing harshly against the dark buildings; a lump of lead plucked viciously at Rusty’s sleeve. Even before the flash of the first shot had van- ished, Rusty’s own gun leaped from its hol- ster, so swiftly that the two reports merged almost into one. A choking cry—the sound of a falling body—testified to the accuracy of his fire. “Oh, sefor!” The girl was clutching at his hand, gasping out the words in a spasm of terror. ‘‘ Save me, senor!” “Vou’re darned right I’ll save you!” Rusty grunted, peering through the gloom to see if other foes might threaten. ‘“Queek, senor!” his companion im- plored. ‘‘ Take me away. To be found here—eet would be worse than death!” She spoke a primly precise sort of Eng- lish, with a trace of Spanish accent and an occasional mispronunciation that made her speech all the more fascinating. ‘“Of a queekness, senor! See! come so swiftly.” It was clear that the pistol shots had stirred up interest. The clatter of foot- beats could be heard, approaching from the direction of the fiesta. “We'd best shift, for a fact,’ Rusty agreed, recognizing how imprudent it would be for them to remain and face responsi- bility for the killing, justified though it was. He had already judged his fair comrade to be the daughter of some wealthy hidalgo, and was in full sympathy with her desire to escape the notoriety that would inevita- bly follow connection with such an episode as this. “Can you run?” he asked her. “Indeed, yes. Let us hurry, senor! Please to make haste!” “Take my hand,” Rusty ordered. ‘‘ Then if you stumble you won’t be so liable to fall. Let’s go, senorita!” People 349 They went together, and at full speed, the light tap of her heels keeping even pace with the jingle of Rusty’s spurs. Gradu- ally they outdistanced pursuit, which evi- dently had been checked when it came to’ the body of Rusty’s victim. A few minutes later the cowboy and his companion reached the sharp turn in the street already mentioned. ‘‘ We can take it easier now,” Rusty sug- gested, realizing that the girl beside him was gasping for breath. ‘“‘ Then we can slip along in the edge of the crowd.” “You are ver’ good to me, senor,’ the girl murmured, as they emerged into the lighted street at a point removed from the center of the festivities. “It wasn’t anything much,” Rusty dis- claimed. He took advantage of the lamps to glance sideways at his companion, gratified to find his conception of her confirmed. She was even more beautiful than he had sup- posed, was this high-caste daughter of Mex- ico—her delicate features chiseled unmis- takably with the regal mark of Old Castile. Young in years, she had yet that stamp of maturing womanhood which comes so early to girls of her race. She was dressed in black, from tiny satin slippers to the jeweled comb which glittered in her lus- trous hair; even the mantilla was black. Sole trace of color in the costume was a narrow, tight-fitting bodice, or girdle rather, of crimson, which accentuated the graceful slimness of her waist. The girl’s lips curled in a little smile, half mischievous, half mocking, as she per- ceived this scrutiny. ‘“And how do you like me, sefor?” she laughed. Her laughter sounded to Rusty exactly like the musical tinkle of a miniature water- fall he had once encountered in the course of his wanderings, far up on the slopes of the Panamints. “Do you find me worthy of the efforts of saving from that cowardly attack, senor?” she added. Rusty chuckled, to cover his embarrass- ment. ‘I’m more than satisfied, seforita,” he told her gallantly. ‘‘ How about you?” EComichooks (E(0)