Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

-_. Ren Se le kee oe ee — “er<> Sr STS Sn See eke ae pT Ew San ina AL 480 Peggy herself hardly knew. But every six months, on the dot, Banker Spoi- ford got his three. hundred dollars of interest money. Newt loved going to Cactus Springs, even when a trip to Spofford’s office provided the excuse for their journey. Now and then he rode in alone for supplies or mail, though there was usually little enough mail for the Three Star Dot, but more often he and Peggy went together, making a gala occasion of it. “Don’t forget we’re going to buy a box of .45’s, Peg,’ Newt anxiously reminded his sister, as she bent over to open the safe which still stood in the room that had served Frank Winsome as office, when the Three Star Dot had been a prosperous outfit, shipping steers by the thousand. Peggy nodded silently, counting out fifteen double eagles from her slender reserves, adding to them one ten- dollar gold piece for incidental ex- penses. “You just bet we will, old timer,” she smiled, slipping the coins into a little leather pouch. “‘Come on. I'll race you to the stable! And beat you there, too!” “Like fun you will!’ Newt grunted, _ rising to the challenge as a hungry trout rises to a grasshopper on the sur- face of a cafion stream. Out through the kitchen they boiled like two Texas tornadoes. “ But at the doorstep waited grim disaster. Peggy was leading by a narrow margin, and somehow her slim foot missed connec- tions. With a sharp gasp of dismay she plunged headlong, and Newt, car- ried along by his own momentum, leaped clear over her prostrate body to avoid trampling on her. Instantly he checked his speed, and turned back to where Peggy was try- ing to rise, her face white and drawn with pain. “Hurt yourself, Peg?” the boy called. She managed to smile at him, though the attempt was rather feeble. —— ~» pone : - i ee eS ee ~ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ““I—I guess I twisted my ankle,” she said, speaking in a strained tone. “It doubled under me when I fell, and I could feel the thing snap.” “Gosh, that’s tough, sis!’ Newt ex- claimed, his boyish voice expressive of the deepest concern. “It “Il be better in a minute, mebbe.” “You ought to get in the house,” Newt said wisely, “ where you can sit in achair. ‘Take hold of me, and I'll help you up.” 3 Peggy obeyed, wincing at the stab of agony that bored through her ankle like a red hot needle. But gallantly she clenched her teeth, hobbling along with Newt’s aid, finally to be settled in a chair of the living room. “We got to get that riding boot off,” he declared, sizing the situation up with quite a professional air, “ fore your ankle swells and jams it tight. Can you stand the strain if I pull? But mebbe I better slit the leather with a sharp knife.” “No, don’t do that, Newt,” Peggy said hastily. “Those are new boots, and I can’t afford to ruin ’em for any ankle. Go ahead and pull.” . Newt did so, as gently as was pos- sible, though the necessary wrenching caused his sister more suffering than he dreamed. Next off came the stock- ing. Peggy’s slim, graceful ankle. was already showing signs of discoloration, and a very noticeable lump. “What should we do for it?” Newt demanded doubtfully. 3 “Cold water’s the best thing,” Peggy said. “That might help keep down. the swelling.” “Til get a fresh pail from the pump,” and Newt swiftly departed. “¥’M ashamed to be such a bother,” the girl said, as her brother re- turned. “It’s too bad for me to spoil your fun to-day.” “ Gosh, Peg, I don’t mind that part of it,” he insisted. “But I’m sure sorry for you. I bet that ankle hurts like sixty.” 3A » . 2 ~ ~ a 4 e . < x gs * ty~62 oo gS ere ae ee ties ie : ‘- - ee $e Be an a we 5 ge eS ~