Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

THE DEVIL'S The snap and crackle of the driftwood fire and the ticking of the cheap alarm clock were the only sounds in the doom for long seconds; while their eyes held together in a battle for supremacy. But Spaulding | had thoroughly got hold of himself again and it was he who won in the end. She dropped her assumed look of innocent won- der and laughed defiantly. “Well! I’m not going to succed, am Te’ “Then you admit it—admit that you came to try to make use of me?” He spoke coldly, with a hint of contempt, and she flared into sudden anger. “Yes, you big brute! I said I’d get you by any means short of letting you lay hands on me!” “ Aren’t you ashamed—but then you wouldn’t be ashamed, being a woman!”’ “A man didn’t hesitate to use me!” “Nor you to lend approbation .to him and his thugs by your association!” “'You—” Her voice broke and the brightness of tears gathered in her eyes. “Who gave me an education and who gives me shelter now? You—you—whited sep- ulcher!” “Bah!” He wanted to laugh at such an epithet being applied to a voluntary out- cast like himself—wanted to laugh even while. he realized that the big drops now rolling down her cheeks were taking hold of him. She was only a disappointed child, after all—or was she weeping designedly. “Damn it!” he cried. “Tl go!” “ ‘You’ll—what?” : “Tl go! Tell Downey to give me his orders and I'll play the fool to his heart’s content!” “Then you aren’t afraid?” “ Afraid?” he roared. ‘“ No! merely to get rid of you!” She gasped; and her little fists clenched white in fury. With the tears yet undried upon her cheeks she ran to the door. “T hate you!” The door slammed and Spaulding was alone with the red dress and a little heap of soggy garments. Alone with the feeling that his emotions had been stirred by a splintery stick. Why hadn’t he remained calm, and put I’m going DAUGHTER. 213 the girl out, and kept himself aloof from Downey’s affairs? Why did a man always get the worst of it when he allowed himself to have anything to do with a woman? Hugh Spaulding cursed himself inwardly and aloud as he changed to dry clothing; and he grew no better satisfied with him- self as the day wore on and supper time came and went. He was still muttering an occasional imprecation upon what he chose to call his stupidity that evening as he sat in his doorway smoking while darkness settled down over the rolling, wind-harried lake. A spatter of clouds dimmed the stars now and then, but there was just enough light, and not too much, for the kind of work that Devil Downey would be up to. Spaulding was chewing his pipe stem in an excess of discontent when a step on the gravel caught his quick ear: there was the flutter of a skirt in the wind and then Irene Downey stood before him, wrapped in a big and almost obliterating sweater. “Are you ready?” she asked coldly. “Yes, but—” “Tm to go with you and give directions -—please don’t think that I like the pros- pect any better than you do!” He had risen as soon as he saw who it was; now he knocked out his pipe, closed the door of the shanty, and led the way down to where the Vixen’s trailer lay pulled up on the beach. He waved his companion into the little craft, with barely a touch of his fmgers against her sleeve, and then ran the boat into the water as easily as an ordinary man would have han- dled it empty. ““You’re too much of a man for this,” she said as he leaped over the gunwale and seized the oars. “ That’s amusing—from a woman!” he growled; and at once was filled with self- hatred for his churlishness and for the im- plication of things untold. He was not in the least pitying himself for the situation— he liked it. Until the moorings had been cast off and the sloop was standing out toward the broad lake there was too much to do to permit of conversation. ‘The girl helped as well as a man, and with a surprising ECOPMICLOOOKS (E@)