Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

GOLD. body, ‘I will kill my enemy to death. I will get up posse. I will scour the hills—yes, the wholé dam’ countree from Klamath River to Mexico. And I kill him to death for this wound.’ ” “Very fortunate he didn’t get it ‘in the heart,” Dorsey said, emitting an- other ring. “Still, I dare say, they’ve already started the chase.” “Two or three barkeep mak’ chase,” the mozo went on. “ They see the senoriteé alone in boat making for ship. The stranger ees disappear. No use chase him. Guests at cantina mak’ wit- ness Lukon shoot first. Ozzer man shoot for protect himself.” “Very nice, Miguel. Thank you. And, I say, here’s a small nugget—a trifle. Wear it on your finger when currying horses, so as to remind your- self that you may some day be a gen- tleman. ‘Thank you.” Dorsey was left alone to face his own dilemma. It would be wise to get out of town. No doubt about that. He was a-marked man. Not that he was particularly afraid of Steve Lukon, who was now wounded, but there were his henchmen. It would not be a matter of duelling. ‘A barkeep hiding behind a shack snip- ing at him as he walked down the street—that would be the game. He reflected that it would be a sim- ple matter to get a horse and travel south. He had enough money to live like a Spanish caballero. But there was something that detained him. He wanted to see that girl. The sight of her singing to those bearded and sousing frontiersmen had set him on fire. He was no longer the stow- away Dorsey, accepting her passionate admiration with a good-humored chiv- alry, and a good-humored indifference. He was consumed with the memory of her. The image of her clothed in that dress of colored flowers and basque sleeves gripped his gambler’s soul more completely than a _ royal flush. ae get out of town or to wait and A: ; 241 take a chance with Steve Lukon; those were the two deliberatives. He chose the latter. But in choos- ing it he continued to reflect on what must be done. He must get aboard that ship. In every cell of his body he felt a terrific yearning to get aboard. The old whale ship was calling to him. He felt the call ringing in his ears, vibrating through his body, gripping him, enticing him like the song of the sirens. And there was no telling when the Cape Cod would put out for another whale hunt. Once she put out, Dor- sey saw little possibility of ever find- ing the girl again. _ But could he go now? Wouldn’t Lukon’s men be on the lookout for him, particularly down there at the Union Street wharf whence the girl had put off in her whaleboat ? What to do; how long to remain at the hotel; when to make a try at get- ting aboard—these were the questions! that began to beleaguer him. He might get a small craft off there to the west- ward of the city. There was a fishing settlement in the locality of what is now known as Baker’s Beach. There was a possibility: to get his carpet bag of gold from the hotel’s safe, to get a horse, to trail off west- ward toward the Gate, then to cross the bay in a boat and approach the Cape Cod on the opposite side, this seemed a fairly safe plan. The more he analyzed it, the more insistently came that call from the girl on the whale ship. But when should he make the break? He went to the window. The tents across the way, the slushy streets, the chowcart, the assay shops going in full blast with crowds of anxious miners working as if it were daytime, all these were bathed in the clear light of the moon. It was too bright a light to be rid- ing through the streets a marked man. The moon would be setting shortly. Then— Gomichboo S,(60)