Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

172 He made no further effort to persuade her. His mind was too filled with con- jecture. Was it indeed true that the girl was fatal to her friends? Or was the story half lie and half rumor? Against a.commen danger he was willing to take his chance, but to have his hands tied and the muzzle of his gun jolted by fate in the crisis of action was too much. It was superhuman—it was ghostly - and paralyzing. All of this Jack read in his face. She saw the keen eyes sink deeper under the bush of brow; saw his cheeks contract and the lower jaw thrust out; saw his forehead _ turn a sickly white, glimmering with perspi- ration. | It was not cowardice. She had seen other men, in her company, face danger with the same aspect. But this man was different. Fear turned him cold, but it did not make him shake. It occurred to her, vaguely, ‘that this might be the man who could break the power of the strange charms she carried. She could not stand the suspense of his silence any longer. ‘““ How can you tell,” she said, ‘‘ when the man who’s after you comes in?” “T'jl wait,” answered the big, white- faced man, “‘ until he makes a dive for his gun.’ “Wait for that before you Sean, res © Ve8;" “Then why not order your coffin now?” “Because I take my chance on beating him to his gun.” “Beat two of them?” she repeated in- credulously. “Don’t talk,’ he answered sharply, ‘ | got to sit here and do a pile of thinking.” So she lapsed into silence. The face of Van Dyck, naturally homely, now grew horrible as the nervous strain of the wait told upon him. She began to have an odd feeling that she could hear. the ticking of a clock somewhere through the din. It would begin very soft, click-click-clicking through the room and gradually rising to a crescen- do, louder and louder and louder till she wondered that every one in the room did not hear it. It rose louder and more rapid until she wanted to jump up from the table with an. THE ARGOSY. outcry of horror. And then she discovered that the mysterious beating was the drum of her own excited heart. And she dared not rise. It was a singular duel of courage between her and the man opposite. On him the danger rested; but upon her, she felt more and more strongly, would lie the blame for his death. For she did not dream of any outcome to the encounter. She forced herself back to calmness, and considered the figure of Van Dyck care- fully, critically. It was that of the natural fighter, beyond a doubt, hard, lean, mar- velously suggestive of activity in spite of its size. And her eyes centered on the hands. : They had never worn gloves, it seemed, for they were as brown as his cheeks. They had never performed the labors of the range, for the fingers were long, sinewy, fleshless, and when the fist closed the row of knuckles stood out sharply. Nervous fingers. They hovered here and there. Sometimes, falling into a detached mood, it seemed to her that the hands on the opposite edge of the table were two spiders, deadly, long-leaping, and crouch- ing, about to leap at some prey. Perhaps at her throat. Fear of the man grew slowly up in her. He was in an agony of apprehension; she knew he did not really expect to outlive the coming fight; she knew he believed in the potent power of the cross she wore and its damning bad luck. There remained his will-power and his pride. It made a terri- ble and silent fight—a.man within a man. Then that slender, long-fingered right hand grew tense on the edge of the table. He leaned back a little in his chair so that he would have free Re to get at his re- , volvers. » CHAPTER VI. THE CAMP-FIRE, OU see him?” she whispered. “Don’t turn!” softly, fiercely. ‘“‘ I think I see the man. I think I see-a greaser I knew in Chaparna County.” he warned her, (eC) NOOLK Go)