The Argosy, August 1914 — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

It was clear enough that the stranger was mad with fear. Jessica placed her immediately as a summer visitor to Barratry. She was a girl of her own age, to judge from the rear view, fancifully dressed in the extreme mode, her finery now all draggled and dripping, = “Come, you can’t stay here,” Jes- sica urged. ‘ You must get to shel- ter. There’s nothing to. be afraid of.” ~The woman only crouched closer, huddling herself together as if hoping thus to escape the attack of the heay- ens. Between her groans she mum- bled, repeating over and over again what seemed to be a name, yet so in- distinctly that her would-be rescuer was unable to catch it. Jessica looked around helplessly. No, there was no roof nearer than that of the farmhouse, still a quarter of a mile away. She must take the affair into her own hands, for the girl was absolutely helpless. Before employing physical force she made a final appeal. “Get up and come with me,” she ordered. “The thunder won't hurt you. Come and. let me take you to a house.” The derelict remained as_ before, still trembling, still shutting her eyes to her surroundings, if anything con- tracting to even smaller compass. Jes- sica was stirred to action. She slipped her arm around the gifl and, exerting all her young strength, set her on her feet. The other suffered this blindly, like one whom fright has rendered insensible to all else. Something familiar about the figure in her clasp struck Jessica. Instantly the memory returned of where she had seen this person before. It was the girl of Jack Garrett’s Sunday morning rendezvous nine days before. She had seen her only briefly then, and at a distance, but her feminine in- tuition made recognition positive. A feeling of injury and antagonism arose within her. , THE ARGOSY. It. was of short endurance, the plight of the other being so pitiable as to drown any meaner emotion than compassion. Having lifted the stran- ger to her feet, she tried to get her to walk. ~ “ You must try, you must try,” she pleaded. “It’s only a little way, There’s nothing to be afraid of. The storm will soon blow over and the sky will be blue. again. [ am trying to help. you—~to get you to shelter. I[ am Jessica Hooper. What is your Hainer” She thought thus to. recall the para- lyzed mind from its panic fear, but the effort was fruitless. The girl's moaning continued, with now and again a stifled shriek at. some rattling explosion overhead. Her rescuer gave up the attempt. to redeem her charge from-the mental numbness which en- chained her. Fortunately she was very strong, even for a girl who had led the out- door, active life which had been hers. Sailing, swimming, skating, and walk- ing had been her pastimes since her earliest memory, with never an inter- mission to allow muscles to relax. The benefits of this life stood her in good stead now. If she could once get the girl start- ed she could trust a little to habit to keep her feet moving: This program entailed at the outset half carrying, half dragging, until they were in the highway. <All this time the helpless product of the city hid her eyes from the elemental demonstration which had reduced her to this state. Once in the road, progress was a little easier. Even at that, Jessica wondered afterward how she managed to get the limp creature to the door of the farmhouse. She was unacquainted with its oc- cupants, even with their names, but she knew the free hospitality of the country would be extended. Never was a more welcome sight than the kind-faced woman who let them in, throwing her whole weight against the ECOMMICLOOOKS (C@