The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 2 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

244 But the girl’s heart was tenderer. A cry, not of joy at sight of her lover, whose face then was an unlovely vision of black fury, but a cry for mercy for the other who had loved her badly but asked for pardon. ‘“ No—Arthur—don’t do that—no!” she pleaded. ‘Yes, shoot,” bade the wounded man. “T deserve it.” Automatically, it seemed, he moved his hand over his face and breast in the sign of the whole world’s penitence. In the face of death he was again the half-civil- ized child at his Indian mother’s knee. “ Back, Evelyn,” Haggins bade her hoarsely, his strong arm pushing firmly to sweep her toward the door. Despite her further pleadings he closed it, planted his foot firmly against it. Then, as she still begged him not to do the thing to which his mad rage was driv- ing him, she heard a shot—another—an- other—another— Slowly, cartridge by cartridge, Haggins was emptying his pistol’s magazine into the body of the man who had perished at the first crack of the weapon. Then— though she never knew this—he kicked the limp thing into a crushed heap in the corner of the room. But she shrank back as he stalked out of the door again. The murderous pas- sion in his face would have frightened her had she not heard the murderous shots of his pistol. He paused not for any caress of love until vengeance was done. “Where are the rest of them?” he asked harshly. “JT don’t know,” she sobbed, breaking under the strain of what she had just heard and seen. ‘Oh, Arthur, stop. You're not yourself.” “Up at the stockade, I suppose. The dirty scoundrels are like a lot of whipped curs as soon as they know they haven’t any longer a white-livered chicken to deal with. Ill teach them to mob white men, to attack white women, to burn my build- ings. DVil— ‘“ Arthur—please—for my sake! 1) THE ARGOSY. “You're a woman,” he said calmly. “You can’t understand how to deal with savages.” He turned on his heel and hurried back down toward the dock. A half hour after she saw him returning at the head of the new gang of men, the first dozen of whom he had armed with clubs and knives. Sev- eral were provided with pistols like his own. They marched by and on to the stack: ade at the head of the long plaza. And a great fear grew up in her heart —a fear of this man whom she had prom- ised to marry. Even now, in his terrible rage, he was magnificent. He might have been a pagan war-god. But a husband! She shuddered. Her mind harkened swiftly back over her whole acquaintance with the man. There could be no doubt that he loved her with a masterful passion that fascinated like his overwhelming personality. But she searched in vain for a word of tenderness, an act, a look. Once, twice, he had said things that showed he recognized softer feelings in others. He had even admitted, as a lack, his own want of them; but not as a lack he regretted. It was rather the lack of something he thought a man had better be without for the big business in hand. And yet she feared. She wondered if she could ever herself muster courage to refuse to do his bidding when he brought on the parson and called her to stand with him to become his wedded wife. And again the thought of Phillips arose within her. She shuddered. eee had proven himself a coward. CHAPTER XVII. MAN TO MAN. MONG the other ‘“ best-he-could- get’ hands Haggins had picked .up in Manaos was another native doctor. About the only recommendation the man had wherewith to offset the fact that his practise was nil, seemed to be his certifi- COMMICOOO S (C@