Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

CROSSROADS. “‘ My name don’t concern you, stranger. If you want to know it, ask one of the men. He’ll tell you, along with a lot of reasons, why you shouldn’t be sitting here.” “ Lady,” answered Dix Van Dyck, “ I’ve heard all those reasons. To put it straight, that’s why I’m here.”’ The first spark of interest burned up in the dark eyes and something like the ghost of a smile softened her mouth at the cor- ners, as if in faint recognition of a kindred spirit. ‘“ T’ve heard about good luck that follows you and bad luck that follows every one around you.” ‘And you don’t believe it?” she asked, growing somewhat cold again. ‘1 believe it,” said Dix Van Dyck calm- ly, ‘“‘ as if I read it in the Bible, but it ain’t any real reason why you should sit here alone.”’ . “ Listen,” said the girl, and she leaned gravely toward him, “I got an idea that I know what you are, and [I like your kind; but you’re on the wrong trail—a cold trail, partner. No matter what they told you they didn’t tell you enough, or you’d have been stopped. There’s bad luck around me. That ain’t all. There’s hell!” Her eyes widened, and she cast a glance over her shoulder. As if Fate listened there, an impalpable presence, grinning invisibly at the warnings she spoke to Dix Van Dyck. She had been beautiful even when she sat there impassive, but now that a color was flushing the olive-tinted skin and life had come into her eyes, she was the most lovely woman Dix Van Dyck had ever seen. She thrilled him like a strain of music. She uplifted him like a passage of noble poetry. She lured him like the purple dis- tances of the desert. “Lady,” he said, “ speakin’ in general, the only thing I want is action, and being near you promises a pile of it. If I bother you I’ll be on my way. If I don’t, I’d sure like to hang around a while.” She considered this cavalier utterance with a frown and a thoughtful, sidewise glance which suddenly lifted to his face. “Tf I told you to go, would you?” she asked. 16S Dix Van Dyck flushed. ‘“ If you say the word, there ain’t nothing I’d do quicker.” ‘* Honest?” The blood died away from his face, and left it splotched with gray, tans, and pur- ples. ‘Talkin’ man to man,” he said evenly, “it'd be some hard job to break away just now, but I'll go if I have to.” “Then go,” said the girl sharply. The friendliness died from her eyes and they became in an instant as blank as they had been at the first. He pushed back his chair, setting his teeth in anger. But even as he caught the edge of the table and.put weight on it to rise he knew that he could not go. It was like a desertion before the battle was fought. It was like cowardice under fire. He settled back in the chair, breathing hard, and glared at her. ‘You're saying that to try me out,” he said. ; ‘““T never meant anything more in my life,” said the girl. ‘“ And yet,” he persisted, ‘‘ you was pret- ty friendly only a minute ago.” “Was I?” she queried with calm-eyed insolence. ‘‘ Well, I’m tired of you now.” He felt a great desire to take that round, slender throat between thumbs and fore- fingers; he could almost tell how it would crunch under the pressure. Then he re- membered with a cold rush of shame that she was a woman. A woman, and there- fore a creature of infinite wiles. The thought held him; he studied her. “Well?” she asked coldly. “ Are you going ?.”’ ‘“* D’you know,” pondered Dix Van Dyck, his grim eyes boring into hers, “I got an idea that if I get up and leave this table you'll despise me. Am I right?’’ The question had the effect of a sharp jerk on the reins. The girl straightened almost with a snap and her serious frown centered steadily on him. Before she could answer he swept on: “Look at the way I’m fixed. All my life I’ve been hunting action. Most I could find was hounding a few yaller-hearted greasers. Now I get to you. Action just nacherally follers you around. I wouldn’t CORmMICLOOokKs (C@