The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 205: what you’re looking at

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

DESERT conclusion. It was enough to suffer for Pete’s indignities after his death without having to fraternize with his greaser confederate. The thought turned what mite of forbearance she had for Machado into wrathful indignation. Her eyes filled with a cold light so eloquent of her change of temper that the man rose to his feet. “Too bad you sick, Senora Gil- bert,” he palliated lamely. “I hope you batter soon. JI mos’ go now. May- be sometime we spik, eh? Cara! | know lots 0’ tings that you—”’ Peggy struggled to her “Yes?” she cut in angrily. keep ‘em! I know lots of things, too. If Pete was a smuggler, what of it? He’s a sight better off’n you are this minute. You ain’t got no call pester- ing me ’cos you was his pardner, have er?” : . The fellow bared his white teeth in an oily smile. “Maybe no. But, a good frien’, eh? Look! I fine out one Americano inspectador, gover’men’ man, come. He look for you now, sefora! He wan’ fine that $17,000 contrabando that Pete hide. Pete is dead, but you hees wife! Thees gover’men’ feller tink you know. Caramba! What you do?” A long silence fell. new intelligence and the startling informer’s argument, Peggy could only stare at him. She stared much elbow. Crushed by this as she had upon the occasion of Pete’s — passing. Machado, on the other hand, seemed the concentration of watchfulness. His eyes had narrowed to pinpoints of light that flashed over her face— diabolical keenness and greed in their depths. At length, as though touched by her distress, he moved away. “T go now,” he told her gently; “vou frien’ migh’ come. I see you soon an’ maybe we spik, no? Enny- way, I weel help you if you wan’, You tink it over. Adios.’ He was gone before she could frame a feply. LOOT. “Well, - 907 Then, for an hour, Peggy gave her- self over to thoughts of this new WOTTy. : So this was Pete’s heritage to her! It had not sufficed that she had put up with a live alcoholic, but that she must now suffer for the deeds of a dead rogue. Who would have believed it of Pete? For all his vices, she had credited him with honesty—a man worthy of every consideration for being his own worst enemy. Now, the revenue offi- cers were after her because Pete had been a smugeler, and she the wife of a smuggler. | She thought of Feliciano Machado, a scheming, conscienceless — rascal, given, no doubt, to the enjoyment of his own ends. He had been a sharer in her husband’s ill-gotten gains, posed in the light of a partner, and was pur- suing her with the license of their illi- cit intimacy. She pondered on his words and his mysterious manner, and stood con- vinced that, however true his warning it was yielded conditionally for the masking of certain purposes whose nature she was not to know, but in whose fulfilment she must assist. After, with the recollections of his many professions of friendship and his seeming eagerness to aid her, the pre- monition she had had when she first saw him recurred to her. The very fact that he had come to gain her cooperation in some plan, and had departed empty-handed, without doing more than to shed a new light upon certain things and conditions that she had heretofore accepted as truths, proved to her mind that his proposal had been of such an evil nature that he had hesitated to tell her lest it might meet with speedy rejection. And, thinking over her plight, she decided to defy this Mexican. She asked no help from him. Why should she ask help from any one? She was innocent of any wrong-doing; he was a _self-acknowledged criminal. If he made to retaliate. as she felt EORMICGLOOOKS (E@)