The Argosy, January 1906 — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

JIM DEXTER—CATTLEMAN. room, out of the dead level of wearisome cogitation one supreme thought arose like a beacon, so bright it blinded him. Orah had eyes like those others he had known six centuries before. Yet while they were like, they were unlike. Orah’s were of the constant blue of heaven: those others, as inconstant as the sea. In the light that suddenly broke over him Dexter understood the subtle at- traction that drew him to Orah as by a spell. Her appeal to his heart arose ghostlike out of that grave of his dead hopes. Somehow the night dragged through, and with the coming of day the turnkey came also with a bountiful breakfast. After the meal there were visitors— influential men of the town who called to declare their faith, to learn if there was anything they could do, and to ex- press a hope that, even if Dexter had shot young Kalispel, the plea of self- defense would give him the liberty he deserved. Two lawyers insisted that they should be retained in Dexter’s behalf. To these friends the cattleman would say nothing except, substantially, that having made his own bed he would lhe in it as a man should. As foi the law- yers, he expressed his appreciation of their good will, but firmly declined their services. About ten in the morning Judge tivins arrived, planted himself hesitat- ingly in the corridor, and pecred anx- iously through the bars, angling mutely for some sign of the prisoner’s feelings toward him. Dexter turned his back and studied the rear wall of the cell. “You can’t shake me, Jim,” said the judge obstinately, mopping the damp from his forehead with a red bandanna handkerchief. Something in the words struck at the humorous side of Jim’s nature. He faced about with a forgiving smile, and the judge took heart. “Good-morning, judge,” said Jim. The judge returned the greeting. “Came down from Siwash just to say . that you can’t fool me,” he expanded. “You never killed anybody in your life, in self-defense or otherwise, and you know it.” 215 “Do I?” returned Jim. “ What’s the sentiment in Siwash?” “T reflect the sentiment of Siwash City in what I have just said,” returned Givins with dignity. “ Kalispel is as near a crazy man as you could find any- where outside of an asylum. He swears heil kill you before you can ever be brought to trial.” “TI have softened a little toward Kal- ispel,” said Jim, after a moment. “Even a bear will fight for its eub.” “What did you do this for, Jim?” demanded the judge. “Nate Kalispel would have killed me if I had not been too quick for him. I guess that is reason enough, judge.” “That wasn’t the point I was trying to cover,” growled the judge. “ What did you say you killed him for?” “T have just told you.” * Quibble if you want to,” the judge spluttered irritably, “ but if you think your friends are going to let you throw yourself away, out of a sentiment as mistaken as it is unworthy of you, you're several points out of your reck- oning.” “My friends will please me best by allowing me to manage my own affairs,” said Jim sharply. “T think a judge and a jury will have something to say about your affairs if you push this Nate Kalispel business through to a finish,” retorted Givins. “That is what I intend to do.” “Look at me, Jim!” Dexter fixed his eyes unflinchingly on those of the judge. “ Now, on your honor, did you really shoot Nate Kalispel.” “Yes,” was the steady answer. “Did you fire once or twice? ” “It isn’t necessary for me to fire more than once at a plain target.” The judge looked impressed. “They don’t think it safe to take you to Siwash City, Jim, so the coroner is coming here to get your statement,” said he. Thereupon he turned and went off down the corridor. He seemed im an especially amiable frame of mind, and Dexter distinctly heard a chuckle waft- ed back behind him. : A resplendent and highly groomed gentleman was next to call. His out- ward person bore the stamp of the Comichoo (ee)