Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

244 One night Fortune recognized a familiar face. Memory placed the man as the victim of Ransome’s justice that morning he had sat in court in the gold workers’ canton- ment. The man was Kinst, the maker of Wolff’s golden images—Kinst, who loved the woman Anna and who had seen Anna torn from him. Directly the business of the meeting was finished Fortune made an opportunity and drew Kinst aside. He saw a way to make this man serve his purpose. ‘Tell me, Kinst,” he smiled coolly at the goldsmith, “ what of your woman Anna— what lucky man got her?” Kinst stared as if he had seen a ghost. He began to tremble. ‘“‘ Who are you?” he whispered. “You do not know me, then?” Fortune had abandoned his uniform and armor at Zorn’s suggestion, and wore the plain, coarse garb of the Comrades, ‘You are not of my canfonment,”’ Kinst muttered. ‘“‘ No, you are no gold worker, and yet I have seen you!” He seized For- tune by either arm, and his hands were shaking. . “Have you seen fer?” he whispered. eagerly. ‘“‘ Does she live? Is she—is she —what have they done with her? Whoever you are, in the name of mercy tell me!” -His pleading voice quavered in a high, cracked note of utter misery that brought a shiver to the man who played with him. “ Hush, not so loud!” Fortune cautioned irritably. ‘‘ Look at me, Kinst, look well, and I'll tell you of the morning when Ran- some sat in judgment and took your woman from you.” He began to describe Ran- some’s justice. Suddenly Kinst shrank back against the wall, eyes dilated, his lip lifted in a snarl of bestial rage. “I know you now,” he muttered sav- agely. “I know you! You are that young captain—Fortune! Yes, I know you, and by the Torch you shall pay!” With a fury that staggered Fortune the little goldsmith launched himself against him, hands outstretched to clasp his throat. In the suddenness of his attack he sur- prised the soldier, and his long nails sank THE ARGOSY. deep in the flesh of Fortune’s neck before — the stronger man had time to strike. Fortune’s heavy fist caught Kinst in the face, once, twice, blows that were enough to kill a man. The goldsmith released his death grip and fell back, panting and snap- ping. He foamed at the mouth like some mad dog. “Stand there and listen!’ Fortune or- dered, his heavy hand pinning Kinst against the stone wall. “ You rat, if I did right I’d kill you for that. You dare! And I was trying to aid you—” ce You! ? “And why not? Do you want your woman back—do you want Anna?” A glint of low cunning came into Kinst’s stare. ‘If the high-born has Anna—”’ he began. : Fortune laughed scornfully. ‘ Not I,” he declared with a fervor that Kinst rec- ognized as truth. ‘“ But, if you are willing to do me a service, Kinst, I can serve you in turn. For a certain favor I am willing to pay high—to pay you with the woman you lost. You like that idea, eh?” ‘Where is she?” Kinst muttered. * Safe enough, never fear. No harm has come to her—and she loves you still.” Fortune made this prediction with cheer- ful certainty. He knew the woman had been imprisoned, and for the rest, he was certain her pallid, plain face with its red- eyed misery of grief would never catch the fancy of an officer. ‘‘ What is it you want with me?” asked the goldsmith sullenly. “To carry a message, a very secret mes- sage, to some one at Wolff’s Tower.” ‘What some one?” “Tf I tell you, you promise to keep my secret? Remember, I can repay you—”’ Kinst frowned suspiciously at the bar- gainer. “‘ What will come of it?” he de- manded. “That is my own affair—not yours.” ‘““ Ah!” Kinst’s suspicions appeared to have reached proof. ‘I know,” he nodded sagely, “I know! You are plotting treach- ery—treachery against the Comrades. What are you doing here, you a soldier of Wolff’s guard, dressed in that cloth? How does it come you pass among the Comrades CORMICLOO© SJ (C@