Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

2A ‘somehow of killing him—or had the man changed his mind? Dave was slow about opening his eyes, for fear of spoiling his deep and delicious comfort, but curiosity compelled him at length. | He was lying in a little grove of pine that he remernbered having seen the day before near Red Rocks. He tried to move; and brought instantly a hand upon his arm —a firm, kind, shapely hand that he recog- nized, but which he believed was a ghost of his imagination until Molly moved into view and sat beside him. Her blue eyes were dark and brimming with the look that he had seen there once before. She lifted his head and gave him a drink from a tin cup: “Feel better, Dave?” she asked. “Yes.” He drank again. “ I’m—all right. Where’s Harry?” “ The boys carried him into the village,” she replied, gravely. ‘‘ We started out a searching-party when you didn’t show up at midnight—but the doctor said you wasn’t to be moved till you come to.” “ Harry—is he—” THE ARGOSY. ‘“‘ Harry’s dead.” She looked away into the swaying tops of the pines. a laying on the other side of the rock from you, with his rifle in his-hands and his head and face all swelled up. He must: have been struck by a snake, but we couldn’t find any marks.on him.” David stared straight up into the blue of heaven and thought hard for a few mo- ments. The poor shooting was explained now. Stowe had been on his way to get around the boulder and finish the job at close range when he himself had gone down. But how? No rattlesnake that Burns had ever heard of could strike as high as a man’s head. ‘““ Say, Molly,” David looked into the be- loved face bending over him, “‘ Harry didn’t have a cut lip, or anything like that, did he?” “Why, no! But I guess he did have a sore mouth from chewing so much tobacco.” Tenderness welled more deeply in her eyes as she rearranged the blanket under his head. ‘“ You mustn’t talk any more now for I want you to get well quick.” ATAVISM HEN winds are warm and sweet And spread blue wings on high, My soul no longer knows itself— I am the sky! When winds are slow and soft With sound of tears in fief, Za I leap back ages, swift and sure— I am a leaf! ; When winds are furious And white and fast they go, Then lonely, chill, I press the earth— I am the snow! When winds are leaping, mad, And hungrily are free, __ And whole in green.or patched in black— I am the sea! When silence bars the day And night, nor winds pass by, My soul takes shape of hopeful dreams— And Iam I! Winifred Virginia Jordan. “ He was . EO 1NOO S CO@