The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 198: what you’re looking at

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

900 partner. She tried to recall who this partner had been. But the familiar memories awakened within her at sight of this homely token of her devotion engrossed her to the exclusion of all else. Pete had worn that coat, and it had been the last thing she had given him. He had cursed her extravagance at the time, it is true; but then that was Pete’s way, and more generally he was tenderest when in his roughest moods. And because she was the woman Peggy wept over that dirty rag. She wept, mindful of a great loneliness, until there suddenly flashed across her understanding the remembrance of where she had last seen Pete. She started around, swept by a keen revul- sion of feelings that she had neglected him. 3 . Then followed a wild search —a search that took in the horizon in every direction. The outfit had dis- appeared. White of face, her whole being alive to the terrors of this new calam- ity that set her afoot without food or “water in that vast, barren, untenanted land, her fearful gaze wandered back to the spot where she had abandoned the wagon. Instantly she saw what seemed a horrible truth. A torrent springing out of a neighboring cation had plowed a yawning way for itself across the open space of sand that had held her belongings. From the far depths came the trickle of water—the last drops of a mighty flood that the thirsty earth had taken into its bowels. Screaming frantically, she pitched headlong to the ground. If. WHEN Peggy regained her senses she was lying in bed well blanketed. She opened her eyes to the light of a candle and recognized the roof and walls of a tent-house. A camp - stove hummed merrily in one corner. The air, though pregnant THE ARGOSY. with the balmy smell of vegetation, “was strong with the stench of drugs and victuals. From without a sound like the sighing of the wind through the pine woods reached her ears. Against the opposite wall a man sat at a table. He was a tall fellow, heavy-boned, and habited in the garb of the Nevada gold-hunter. Peggy contemplated him stupidly. He was poring over a map, occa- sionally stopping to guide a fast pencil in what appeared to be diagram work. She noticed also that he made many notes upon a writing-pad, and that he smoked cigarette after cigarette, kin- dling the last from the coal of the one consumed. For many minutes she studied him. No doubt, she told herself, he was some surveyor. But she cast aside this conclusion with the discovery that she knew every surveyor in the district. And directly upon the heels of this reflection sprang the realization of her presence in that tent. What did it mean? Perhaps she had been sick. Her hand stole to her head and en- countered a bandage. Thereupon she sought to unravel the mystery, but in her confused state of mind not the faintest inkling of explanation pre- sented itself. She gave up the attempt and continued her scrutiny of the stranger. His eyes attracted her now. ‘They were large, luminous eyes, eloquent of a kindly nature, sharp withal. By the uncertain light she believed she marked a haggard expression of the lids, and that they were underlined with heavy circles, indicative of little sleep. His face, too, bore out the testimony of the eyes. It was a good, strong face, clean-shaven, and prominent of forehead. Waking, though she had, in an at- mosphere of foreign surroundings, and experiencing the want of decision so characteristic in the human strange to a situation, Peggy, however, felt that this man was likable. In an indistinct way she knew that Eomichbooks (E©)