The Argosy, August 1905 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

ee 1s , 4 af rai e ali. 3 ? : et a a eS Me. -_ Tsaw my herds, and though they were hin they did. not seem to be in S weak condition. _ T left Miguel talking to Manuel, his brother, and jogged toward a honse I saw not a great distance from my bor- der. Miguel told me it was where Mr. Bethune lived, and I wanted to get acquainted with my nearest neighbor. As I elattered up to the door, a girl with her face out of sight in a huge sun- bommet was just coming from the door with a pail, evidently going after water. She heard my horse, gave a startled glance, and ran back into the house. The house itself was a much more comtortable looking one than mine. It was built of logs, and very substantially built, too. In a moment a tottering old man came to the door. In his hand there was a pistol. “ Not going to shoot before you know me, are you?” I asked as I dismounted. The old man looked at me a moment with dim eyes. “Thank God!” he cried. “I thought you were De Paro.” Then he turned and tottered back into the house. “Frumice! Eunice!” he said. not De Paro. Thank God!” “But to-morrow—to-morrow! my God!” I heard the girl sobbing. “It is evident, Richard,’ I said to myself, “that there is something radi- cally wrong here, and especially with De Paro. I am not acquainted with Senor De Paro, but whoever he is he is persona non grata in this place. Well, do we go in, or return home to wonder what the trouble is?” I stood debating with myself when the old man came out. “Stranger,” he said in a trembling voice, “ won’t you come in?” I tied my pony to a stake near the door and entered. The girl had cast aside her sunbonnet, and I saw that she had been weeping. Not merely the little show of emotion she had exhibited upon my arrival, but there were tear stains and pale cheeks and other evi- denees that some great trouble was on her mind. The old man t the same. His ed with tears when =} 2» “Tt is Oh, dim old eyes were | “es = eee ee. ~ é . . . = “ar " r eo ~: , 2 ¥ he looked at the girl, and his voice broke — into a quaver every few minutes, _ I could not, as a stranger, ask what was the trouble, as they were evidently trying to keepitfrom me. Still I knew that nothing short of a tragedy would ‘cause so much emotion. The conversation was short, and I introduced myself first, saying that Miguel had informed me they lived there. When I left, the old man followed me to the door. He stood wringing his hands as if in agony, and whispered: “Will you be at home in the morn- ing, sit—or perhaps this evening? * “This evening, any way,’ I an- swered. “ Don’t speak so lond—she will hear. I will come and see you before dark. May I?” “T shall be glad to have you come at any time,” I said. Greatly amazed at what seemed to be an indication of some terrible anxiety on the part of the old man and the girl, I rode homeward. “Any way,” I-said, “Humice is a pretty girl, Eunice is a pretty name, and TV’. do anything the old man wants me to. There! What a fierce resolve!” I laughed, and got myself a bite to eat. CHAPTER VIL. I LISTEN TO A STRANGE STORY AND SPEND A TERRIBLE MOMENT. { was sitting with my chair tilted back against my beautiful adobe house about half-past four, when I saw the old man coming along the road. He was driving a pony to a buckboard, and through the mesquite I could watch his bent old form. His head would every few minutes drop on his breast and then he would shake it sadly. Reaching the mesquite gate, heturned in and I rose to greet him. “You kept your word, Mr. Bethune,” IT said. He stepped down from the buckboard and left the pony to his own devices. “ Ah, Mr. Wallace,” he began, “ if you had carried the load that I have had on ‘ ; ? a ana r a > ; a * ‘ ¥ pt 4 an s P Sea oe * head ~~) »* ae ps comicbooks.com