Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

170 have to hunt for it. I-find yeu, and you start to give me the run. I ask you, man toman: Is it fair? Is it square?” _ There was a movement of her lips. He ‘ raised his right hand suddenly and pointed. ‘Right now,” he said, ‘‘ you got a smile all ready to pop out, and you’re fighting to keep it back. Am I right, lady?”’ She could not help it. The smile came, and then a bubbling laugh. It ran on and on through musical variations like the sound of water trickling over recks and pluhging into tinkling shallows and chim- ing in deep pools. _ In all his life Dix Van Dyck had never heard a sound which fascinated him so. Fer he could not tell whether she was laughing with him or at him. The laughter stopped. Sitting straight in her chair, she looked at him with marvelously bright eyes, and the smile coming and going at the corners of her mouth. CTA Pik Ns A FIGHT AGAINST LUCK. “TYO I get you right, Dix Van Dyck?” she asked. ‘‘ Am I sort of a bait that pulls trouble your way? Is that why you want to hang around with me?” ‘* Tack—can I call you that—” ce Sure.” ‘“ Jack, you guessed right the first time. That’s why I want to hang around. Here I am, six feet two, hard as nails, handy. with two guns, and nothing to do» Can you beat that?” “Nope,” said the girl, and broke into her musical chuckle again. “‘ Nope, you beat the world, partner!” “Thanks,” grinned Dix Van Dyck, “ Ul just oil up my guns and get in fighting shape, and we’ll make a team of it.”’ She grew serious again, shaking her head. “Tt won’t do. I can’t let you do it. Look here, Dix Van Dyck, I like you more ’n any man I’ve run into in a long time. That’s telling you straight. I’m not going to let you go to hell because of a fool idea. If you want action just shoot out these lights and I’ll guarantee you all the action you want.” THE ARGOSY. ‘ But you see,” explained Dix Van Dyck sadly, ‘‘ the trouble a man makes ain’t half so pleasin’ as the kind he just runs into sort of accidental. Understand?” c¢ Yep.” ‘‘ How long,” said Dix Van Dyck wist- fully, “‘ before things most generally starts.” ‘“ Mostly different a lot,” said Jacque- line. ‘In the mean time,” said he, “ there’s considerable room on the floor. Do we dance?” 2 She hesitated, as if she sti wished to argue the question with him; as if she fought the temptation to let him stay; but then her head nodded with the rhythm of the music—she started up, and in an in- stant they were gliding across the floor. There is a strange and dangerous potency in the dance. There is no need of polished, gleaming floor, of bright lights, of a nu- merous and accomplished orchestra, or of a brilliant assembly of women and men. There is no need of all this. Granted an age a little under thirty, a rhythm supplied by a rusty, stringed piano, the floor of a barn or the stones of a street, and the re- sult is the same—an intoxication, a forget- fulness of the world. Two bodies moving in harmony with a thought, and that thought one of beauty. Faces tilt up—a light comes upon them —in their blood is the fragrance of spring and the richness ‘of autumn—the pulse of life runs quicker, quicker, races—and the two strike closer to the heart of things. So it was with Dix Van Dyck and Jacqueline. first, as though she had almost forgotten the steps, but before he became conscious of a disappointment she changed and grew more» warmly alive in his arms, There was a catlike lightness in her step so that the sway oi her body followed him almost as if she were poised in air and drawn hither and thither mysteriously—at his will. And as for Jack, she glimpsed the glances of envy and admiration which followed her and knew that she was dancing divinely— knew it and was grateful to the man who held her. The incense of flattery had long been absent, and now it swept up glorious until her nostrils trembled to inhale it deep. (EO) VOOLKS AUG She danced rather clumsily, at. (C@